“I Really Want to Fuck You.” “Don’t Say ‘Fuck.'”
Firstly, the results of Monday’s poll were a bit unexpected. “Having sex” is holding on to a slight lead over “holding hands” (56%), but I thought the margin would be much higher, at least among my readership. A writer for TV Carnage shares my surprise at the popularity of this sentiment. Hand-holding partisans, feel free to post a comment and explain yourselves. It seems like with hand-holding, the downside is that often your hand gets all sweaty, and you have to hold it in an uncomfortable position, but I suppose the same thing could be said – oh, never mind.
In other relevant news, a university in Poland has conducted a study saying men’s attraction to women’s bodies changes seasonally. How they conducted it was, they showed dudes pictures of girls in bikinis, and pictures of ladies’ tits, and they measured to see how many boners they got. (I’m not sure this is the proper scientific terminology, but I want my explanation to be on a level that the layman can understand.) It turns out the dudes got more boners from seeing these body parts in winter than they did in summer. It’s because exposed flesh has a bigger impact in colder months, when you don’t get to see it as often. In this case, science is lagging far behind people’s instinctive behavior; the many women who go out to nightclubs in January wearing only a tiny dress and strappy shoes have understood this principle for decades. Everyone laughs at those women because it looks like they’re torturing themselves, but who the hell is laughing now?
If “science” is looking for more totally obvious shit to run studies on, perhaps they could conduct research into whether people are hooking up with their exes all the time. The answer would turn out to be “yes,” and the New York Times Sunday Styles section would do a lengthy trend piece about it. They could interview the subject of today’s story. “Malcolm” works for a graphic design company, preparing polymer plates; while they were together, his girlfriend “Angela” was a bartender, but they broke up a few months ago.
They hadn’t been seeing each other since the breakup, but about two weeks ago, Angela needed to get her microwave back from his house. She gave him a call and they set up a time for her to come over and get it.
One the day in question, Malcolm got home from work at about 4:30 and found her waiting for him, sitting in the driveway on the hood of her car. He let them both in, and after she used the bathroom he invited her up to his room.
He was wearing a white v-neck t-shirt from Target, and a pair of jeans he had gotten for free when one of Angela’s co-workers at the bar decided to give them away. (The two dudes were about the same height.)
Or, do us all a favor and buy American:
Up in the bedroom, it seems like seduction was a fait accompli, but there was still a long course to be charted from the strained normality of exes-as-friends to the renewed intimacy of exes-who-fuck-each-other. This transition took place in many small increments. Malcolm and Angela hadn’t talked in a long time, so they had to start out by asking about regular stuff like “how are you” and “how’s the job going.” She had a new job as a cook at a wine bar. They were standing up, but after a while Malcolm felt like sitting, so he got on the bed and sprawled out.
When they were done with these updates they started talking about why the relationship ended, and how “we miss each other.” It seemed that although she was the one who dumped him, he was further along in the healing process: “I was happy, but she wasn’t.” Then she laid down on the bed next to him. Sex was “in the air.” They got closer, until they were finally facing each other, about two inches apart. He told her he wanted to kiss her. After they kissed, he said “I really want to fuck you.” She said “don’t say ‘fuck.’” LOL! You can see why the relationship was doomed. She didn’t object to the act, though, just the terminology. He was like “fine, I want to make love to you.”
After that he “disrobed her” and stripped down. They both had a “pretty awesome” time. He thinks it was the last time, though. I didn’t follow up on the microwave, but I assume she took it with her when she left.