Zoomdoggle: More fun than work!

It’s Wednesday, the day Zoom lets you play Truth or Dare with Drew. Think of him as your very own lab monkey. One with a very sordid past and very little shame. Got a question or dare? Send ‘em to us at truthordare@zoomdoggle.com and make him doggle for your delight…

TRUTH: Go to a swingers club and swing like a tard at the playground! —sentinbyrandom@whoreallycaresitsonlyweekthree.com

Sound the alarm. Phone the authorities. Send out the hounds. This is the Internet equivalent of an Amber Alert. Our sex writer is AWOL, dead, or worse.

These are the facts as we know them:

Monday of last week; though our Zoomdoggle email was as yet inactive, one clever reader figured out the office address and dropped us a line. She had a dare for Drew. She’d always wondered what exactly goes on at Le Trapeze, and thought Drew would be the perfect surrogate to go in her place and report back on his findings.

By Tuesday we’d found their web site. Sure we were impressed to hear that the club had been in operation for over 20 years, and intrigued by the site’s claim of Shakespearean pub-styling. But what interested us most was that it was a swing club! Yeah, an honest to goodness swap-spot for couples looking to turn twos into threes, fours, mores, and other twos than the twos they came with. Still though, we weren’t sure this was a mission worthy of our very best man.

By Wednesday, after reading their rules — including that you MUST enter, and leave as a couple, and that going upstairs, to where the action happens, requires stripping down as a duo — there was no turning back. Like it or not, Drew would have to find a date. A date that might be willing to date other’s dates. It was decided that Drew and his mystery woman would be playing with others that coming weekend.

Incredibly, our guy had no problem finding a lady up for the task. Her only requirement? As the club is BYOB, Zoomdoggle would have to pay for a bottle. Sold!

Friday morning: Drew confesses that although he’s nervous, his sidekick is actually someone he’s had his eye on for some time. Could this be his way in?

Friday afternoon: He has but one last concern. Who would pay the couple’s $120 entry fee. This was quick becoming an expensive experiment, but one Zoomdoggle & Co was eager to see through. We coughed up the dough.

Drew shuffled out of the office with an envelope full of cash and a twinkle in his eye. At last, he prophesized, his dry spell would come to an end… albeit with other couples raining on his parade.

Saturday night we got a text. Drew was in. He and the little lady had made it inside.

Two hours later, another text: They were preparing to strip and go upstairs.

It was at this point we told him we wouldn’t need the blow-by-blow until all the blowing was blown. He responded with a “Hahaha.”

Later we would discover a message on the office voice mail. Drew had called from the club. Over the din of music and mayhem he shouted that he was going to leave. But he wasn’t going alone. He and the lady had met another couple of about their own age. And, because he’d only just moved to New York and had yet to find a place, and his girl didn’t want to go back to her own house, they had decided to spend the night with the couple.

And that’s the last we heard of him. No calls returned. No emails. No texts. Nothing.

Granted Drew’s a big boy (over 6 feet easy) but we’re worried. He’s only just moved here from Maine. Anything could’ve happened. We’ll spare you the speculation (maybe he’s chained to someone’s radiator, been sold into the sex-trade, or worse), but this leaves us in a bind. We need to know how the story ends. Plus we need our sex guy. Especially now that the email is up and running and the questions and dares are pouring in…

Do you have the missing key to unlock this mystery? Maybe you’ve seen him wandering the streets aimlessly. Perhaps you were at the club. Would you like to take over his column? Whatever the case, let us know. It’s only week three, this can’t possibly be where the road ends. If you see him, let him know that we’re worried and tell him to come home.

—thezoomcrew@zoomdoggle.com