I just got home from a Sparty.
What was so surreal about it? Well, I've been to spas, and I've been to sponsored parties, but never the combination.
We walked in and were asked to fill out forms, were given glossy bags containing robes, slippers and various tchotchkes, and were directed upstairs to a changing area. I stripped, put on my robe and slippers, placed all my belongings into the glossy bag, and traded said bag for a bag-check ticket and a body-massage-group paint chip. We were in the yellow group. We went downstairs.
There were about twenty women and five men clad in white robes and slippers mingling or lounging on white pillow-topped squares. While noshing and drinking we were attended to by white-wearing servers and massagers. Every half-hour chimes would ring and somone would announce which color group should convene upstairs for their massages. K likened it to joining a cult. I thought it was like an idealized sanatorium.