ADVENTURES IN GREY-LAND / 2:35 am & Other stories

ADVENTURES IN GREY-LAND

This Valentine's Day, I’ll be in a movie theater surrounded by hundreds of closeted erotica enthusiasts. We will finally emerge from hiding as we exult over the premiere of Fifty Shades of Grey on the big screen.
My first peek into the underground world of sadomasochism (S&M) occurred while watching Pulp Fiction. It was a startling glance that included chains, whips, and a big red ball that scarred my young adult mind. Next was Eyes Wide Shut with Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise, a then-married couple. Albeit a demure depiction of S&M compared to Tarantino's Pulp fiction, the effect was just as horrifying. Then again, on my honeymoon in Jamaica, the general manager of the carpeted, toddler-heavy, soup-serving resort my husband booked took pity on us and offered an upgrade. Hedonism. A five-star nudist resort where the young and gorgeous cater to you while mature and less-dazzling guests leave little to the imagination. Given the alternative, sunbathing with naked people was far better than eating hot soup with toddlers while being bitten by carpet mosquitoes.

At Hedonism, couples seeking other sexual partners approached us inside the sauna, as we sat wrapped in towels while they sat criss-cross applesauce in the nude. On the beach, random strangers engaged us in conversation while their private parts hung overhead. Yet the unobstructed view of a fetishist group we'd only ever seen in movies sent us into hiding. Individuals dressed in leather contraptions wearing masks, carrying menacing gadgets. Overwhelmed by this sudden immersion, we spent the rest of our vacation inside our suite, enjoying a conventional honeymoon.

Thirteen years later, a friend recommended a must-read book to be downloaded on an e-reader but not carried around for fear people might judge. So that's just what I did. My actions reminded me of when I'd sneak and watch Fast Times at Ridgemont High as a teenager while gaining a scant understanding of how flirting leads to so much more.

Over the two days and nights it took to read book one, I ignored responsibility. I'd entered a world opposite my own. It was as if this underground world had been taunting me for years and had swallowed me whole. Christian Grey, the protagonist, is one of the most intriguing images of a man since Michelangelo's David. His overt sex appeal, monotone voice, designer suits, and splendid physique blew my mind. If not for his gray eyes, he'd resemble my husband to a tee. Still, my husband reaped the benefits of my literary tryst. Afterward, he, too, read the entire series, and together we plummeted into Greyland.

Like Alice's Wonderland, Greyland is an elusive, character-driven, underground world that manifests out of one's imagination. And I have a vivid imagination. Still, I found Greyland tricky to navigate. Its characters are ominous and unforgiving. The landscape is sharp, slick, and dark all at once, vastly different from the vibrant, conversation-filled wonderland Alice experienced. But I refused to stifle an experience where the ultimate reward is 'pleasure,' despite jumping through actual hoops to get it.

Meanwhile, my husband and I  ordered from obscure websites, following the events of book one as best we could. Amid sexual exploration, I realized I had quirks as unattractive in the bedroom as they must appear in everyday life. I'm clumsiest when I stand still; I laugh hardest when trying to be serious, and I have a low tolerance for pain of the self-inflicted kind. Not to mention, the experience of being blindfolded is dampened when you're dangerously near-sighted and have a fear of being left in the dark. I found that I was unconvincing in Greyland and far from sexy. Besides, complete submission and/or domination are radical concepts to adhere to, and since I prefer more democratic environments, I hesitated to commit to either.

Although my adventure in Greyland was exhausting, it was exciting, but I was not alone. After a month of minor successes and lots of fumbles, it occurred to me I may never find my footing in this world. Greyland is not sustainable. So I stored the strappy, leathery items ordered from dynamic websites, which made it their business to send me daily reminders of my temporary madness, and returned to normalcy. 

Fifty Shades of Grey reached mass appeal. Friends and strangers asked, "Have you read the book?" Everyone had embraced Grey as the new color of love. But blending black and white creates a rainbow of grays, which depending on proportions, can range from dove gray to graphite. Let's just say that while merging worlds is a good thing, I can only venture so far underground before needing to come up for air. Therefore, my pendulum rests on dove gray.

It's been two years since I ventured into Greyland. I'm looking forward to Fifty Shades of Grey (the movie) once again, awakening my exploratory side. I'm curious whether my pendulum moves up a shade or two. But perhaps I've said too much. Visitors to Greyland will appreciate this: if you see me in the theater on Valentine's Day, don't look at me directly and only speak to me after I've talked to you first.






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