The seamy side of suburbia

C and I went out for Thai food tonight and there was this super loud table near us, 2 middle-aged couples, one couple clearly visiting from out of town. The woman of the in-town couple kept trying to convince the other couple to come back to their house for “just a touch of Frangelico.”  She just kept on needling them about it, in her intoxicated way. And the more she insisted, the dirtier it sounded. C and I were trying not to giggle but we kept on looking at each other and she would whisper “Just a touch . . . of FRANGELICOOOOOO” and I would snort so hard that Thai tea almost came out of my nose (a sad waste of an excellent drink).

Here’s the conversation they were having, along with subtext.

Drunk lady: Just come back to ours, we’ll have a touch of Frangelico (also, we’re swingers).
Visiting man: We’d like to, Karen, but it is getting late… (please leave me alone, freak)
Drunk husband: It’s hard to turn her down (when she’s holding the whip), Stan. You’d better just do what she says
Visiting woman: Stan, maybe we should. I might like some Frangelico (light bondage). I haven’t had any in a while (because you’re lame in bed).
Drunk lady: Yes! Frangelicoooooo. It’s so good. I can tell you need some (no subtext needed; I mean COME ON!)
Visiting man: I just don’t think we can (Step OFF, skank!).
Drunk husband: Stan, have you even HAD Frangelico? It’s amazing (you will love it, son).
Drunk lady: (whispering) Frangelicooooooo.

Needless to say, this is my new favorite euphemism.