Vagina. That's what this "Passion Party" is all about. Vagina! Or is it? Everyone in this room is an actress in a recent staging of Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues. But oddly enough, there's a lot of dick-talk in this room. We learn about the penis, the chode, and the balls. Apparently, men like pumpkin massage oil—all that spice inspires a proper boner. We also learn that you can buy a floppy plastic tube to masturbate your man with while you watch American Idol. (It's assumed that we as a group of women want desperately to watch American Idol and will do anything, including jerking our man off, while watching it.)

We get to see what a vagina looks like, at least—a pillow with satin-perfect labia and a diamond clitoris. All vaginas are beautiful! Finally, the dildos come out and we concentrate more on getting ourselves off. American Idol is not mentioned.

Attending this party is enough to make me want to watch the partyers in The Vagina Monologues. There are gay women, heterosexuals, mothers, strippers, married women, and divorced women here. They describe Monologues to me as a play about the torments, the strength, and the brute force of the vagina, and say they had a humbling experience rehearsing the play and discovering what having a vagina means. I wonder if Eve Ensler is giving a handjob and watching Steven Tyler right now.

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