Sunday, May 28, 2006

stumbling blocks on the way to slutting it up.

I posted this to a local listserv; it amused me so I figured I would repost here. Why not? It's my damn writing and I can cannibalize as I please!

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Okay. This has been annoying me all week, and I'm finally too irritated and frustrated not to post something. I'm sure I'll get a load of snarky comments, but you know what? Piss off. I'm tired of being nice.

The story so far: I'm trying to get laid. I mean really trying. I've been on nine (9) dates in the last two weeks. So clearly I don't have any problem meeting people. Quite the opposite. As I've mentioned before I'm hot stuff. Good-looking, smart, sexy, all that. And I would bet that whether or not we had more contact, every one of those guys went away having enjoyed himself and passed a pleasant couple of hours. I'm not saying I'm everyone's cup of tea, but I am good company and decent eye-candy. So what's the problem? There are several.

1. Nice guys who know about stuff I like to talk about (books, movies, design, urbanism, politics, etc.) are too dorky, too introverted, too shy, too fat, or have too many feelings. They want the LTR, they want to fall in love, they want to make love. They don't want to fuck--long, hard, and kinky--which is what I want. I mean, hey. I'll nurture your artistic vision. I'll be your muse. I'll help you pick out a gift for your mom. I'll even buy you flowers and take you out to dinner. All that bullshit. But in return, about three times a day I want you to shut up and nail me. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so. You'd rather have feelings than a BJ.

2. Hot guys who are willing to nail me can't string two words together. I "peak their interest"; they "like my add"; they tell me they are looking for a woman "that knows what she wants." They send pictures of their penises; they tell me to "cum right over"; they invite me to "hit them up." While I don't require partners to have a PhD to get off, a little pleasant pillow-talk adds to my enjoyment of a sexual encounter. Frankly, I've fucked more than my share of beautiful bodies and honey, you need more than that to get in my pants.

3. Then there are the men who think that because I've put myself out as looking for sex that I can be treated without the respect or dignity to which any human being is entitled. So: emails asking, "How much for a night with you?" Conversational openers like, "When are we going to have sex?" Guys who get grabby or forward without permission. You know what? Just 'cause I'm looking for sex doesn't mean I want it from you. I've had bigger, better, hotter, smarter, funnier, and sexier than you, so don't flatter yourself that I'll abandon my standards for the likes of you.

4. Most of you would be terrified if you actually did get me into bed. I'm not some wide-eyed little girl who thinks your half-assed fumbling around in what you think of as the general direction of my clit is the second coming. I can fuck you all night long, cook you breakfast in the morning, and fuck you again afterward. And when your dick goes limp I'll still be asking for more. And instead of going to work with your hands or your mouth you'll get all scared and start to have feelings: inadequacy, anxiety, and other assorted forms of male bullshit. Those inspire some feelings in me: contempt, boredom, and irritation.

5. And just because I HAVE to mention it (since this SUPER pissed me off!!! This is the only rant directed at a single, identifiable individual rather than a generalized venting.): what the fuck is up with dishonesty? I'm not expecting every date to be magic, every person to be the perfect one. If I did, I wouldn't have you lined up like planes landing at LAX. This is just a chance to check each other out. And I've been forthright & honest with people who I didn't want to date or see again. It's possible to be honest without being mean or making someone feel bad. So if you say you want to go to dinner again, and I cancel my plans to go see Architecture in Helsinki, and then you stand me up, what am I supposed to think except that you're an asshole? Let's just be courteous & civil, okay? Let's at least agree on that.

Yes, I'm pissed off. Yes, some of those dates were pleasant. Yes, I'm annoyed and over-generalizing. But I don't want to hear your complaints, or your defensive responses. I'm not going to acknowledge your one-liners (or your long, rambling, badly spelled emails) telling me what a bitch I am. In fact, I might just find creative uses for those email addresses. So don't give me shit. I've had quite enough in the last few weeks.

1 Comments:

At 11:53 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

This is what I mean, real anger, real emotion.
Pissed off is an understatement here!!!
Pfew, I like that, put a smile on my face while reading it...
Thanks,
bye D.

 

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