2007 January » How Not To Get Laid

Soup to Nuts

Jan 122007

For starters, let me be clear: I’m not a “Use ‘em and Lose ‘em” kind of guy. My twenties consisted of three solid monogamous relationships back to back with little breathing room in between. 10 years. 3 girlfriends. And that’s it. Nothing extracurricular.

So when I found myself suddenly single and 30, can you blame me for wanting to catch up on some of the action I’d missed out on in my twenties? I was ready to have fun, and I made this clear to LA Girl right off the bat. Before we even had sex, I laid down the law, told her I wasn’t about to become anyone’s boyfriend. The rules were: no commitment, no accountability, and no expectations. She could either play ball or sit this one out.

Wouldn’t you know? She chose to play.

We had a good time. The sex was nasty, and the other stuff wasn’t so bad either. She was absurdly hot, even hotter than I was used to, and I’m not ashamed to admit I really dug that. She was so hot, I’m pretty sure I bought her flowers. Call it force of habit. Hell, I even brought chicken soup to her house once when she was sick – but then, that’s the sort of crap you enjoy doing every once in a while. It makes you feel chivalrous. Makes her feel special. Everybody wins.

Those were high times for me. I was playing the field like a man just out of prison and loving every minute of it. I was always upfront about my intentions, and usually the ladies were okay with it. I called them “Baby” to keep them straight, and I became one of those guys who could juggle several dates in a weekend without breaking a sweat.

Nobody Fucks the Triangle Player Either

Foot In Mouth, Guy Story - No Sex for Guy, How Not To Get Laid, Lack of Balls 3 Responses »

Jan 102007

In the summer after college, I joined a band in Chicago, and we were all living together in a rented house in a very wealthy northern suburb. Squalor amidst obscene plenty, was my observation of the mansions on the lake compared to my old sleeping bag on a hardwood floor.

The band was full of preening prima donnas, and I was bunking with one. Me and Rich, one of the singers, both slept on the floor of one of the bedrooms of this ranch. One morning, I awoke to find that Rich had a pretty young thing sharing his sleeping bag. He got up and walked out of the room, presumably to take care of business, or even have breakfast. The touseled-haired thang looked over at me and saw I was awake. She said softly, “C’mere”.

I looked at the door. Was Rich coming back? I could just get up and lock the door. I was frozen. I hadn’t gotten laid all summer. Keyboard players didn’t get laid, only lead singers (and guitarists and bassists and drummers and roadies).

Those Sexy Spanish Men, vol. 1

Foot In Mouth, Girl Story - No Sex for Guy, How Not To Get Laid, Lothario Story, Travel 3 Responses »

Jan 082007

I used to really have a thing for Spanish guys. Why? I don’t know… I guess there’s just something about them speaking in Spanish with that sexy accent that’s a turn-on. Also, it doesn’t hurt that Spanish guys actually let you know that they’re interested, as opposed to American men who just stand in the corner and avoid eye contact. At least, that’s what I once thought.

So I had just arrived in Spain for my semester abroad and was out at one of their hottest nightclubs when I met this very attractive Madrileño man. He was hot. We spoke in Spanish together, I got a little drunk, and before I knew it, we were making out on the dance floor. I gave him my digits. I have to say, I was psyched that I’d managed to meet this really sexy, cool Spanish guy on one of my first nights in Madrid. But then later, he began to text me…

And text me…

…in English, what became a long series of cheesy, lame, slightly incorrect English pickup lines. And the thing was, I could tell he was actually being serious. He actually thought he was using these suave American pickup lines on me. They were hilarious. My favorite was: “C’MON BABY, LIFE MY FIRE”

I had a good laugh, but needless to say, his sex appeal was completely gone for me… I never saw him again.

Submitted by Annie, Age 26, New York City

Mistakes of the Married Man

Foot In Mouth, Guy Story - No Sex for Guy, How Not To Get Laid, Married Life 5 Responses »

Jan 052007

(Finally, a gritty realistic portrait of married life in the twenty-first century! I’m not usually a fan of lists, but this entry was too good to resist. — SF)

As a married man, I have learned that there are far more ways not to get laid than to get laid. By comparison, as a single guy, you can pretty much fall down and accidentally have sex with someone. You’ll be walking down the street, trip on your shoelace, and find yourself banging your best friend’s girlfriend.

Once you are married, though, the whole sex thing becomes much more challenging. Despite years of having sex, we marrieds still have no idea what we are supposed to do to get it. So every time we do do it, it is some kind of happy accident, like finding a winning lottery ticket, or learning that your Thai hooker doesn’t have AIDS. So I don’t have the slightest idea how to get laid. But as a married man, here are some ways I have found not to get laid:

1) Fart in wife’s face
2) Remark that polygamy seems like a pretty sweet deal
3) Describe wife’s body odor as “soul-wilting”
4) Perform naked jumping jacks
5) Ask, jokingly, if the secret ingredient is horse vomit
6) Remark that wife’s best friend “should probably be gassed”
7) Note that wife sweats an awful lot for someone who doesn’t move very much
Ask about doing it with sister-in-law

Any others I am missing?

Submitted by Gary, Age 29, New York

Her Baggage Has No Zipper

Crazy Suitor, Foot In Mouth, Guy Story - No Sex for Girl, How Not To Get Laid, Melancholy 6 Responses »

Jan 032007

I was supposed to meet this girl at 7pm for dinner. I showed up right at 7pm. 7:05 came and went… 7:10… 7:15… Finally, at 7:20, I said to myself, “If she doesn’t show up in 5 minutes, I’m going home. I’m hungry.” Naturally, she showed up at 7:23, begging forgiveness for being late because she had a really good excuse. “I recently stopped taking my antidepressants, and one of the side effects is that it makes me tired,” she said. “And so I slept through my first appointment with my new therapist, and she said that if I couldn’t make the first appointment, we couldn’t have a good working relationship at all so I should find a new therapist, and I was really upset because she was supposed to be really good, so I had to go out and go shopping.”

I should’ve just bailed out there. But you know how in sitcoms when people are just bowled over with information and they can’t process it, so it’s like their brain just kind of skips over it and stores it away to process later? “I’m pregnant!” “Ooookay, what do you want for dinner?” Yeah, like that. I was hungry, so my brain skipped over all that and “oookay, let’s go eat!” came out of my mouth.

Over dinner, I found out the myriad and sordid reasons why she’d been taking antidepressants in the first place. It turns out that (a) her father, who was president of their congregation, was having a public affair with one of his congregants, which in turn made (b) her mother into an alcoholic, which in turn made (c) her sister… well, she really thinks it was more of a cry for help rather than a full-on attempt because she only took half the bottle of aspirin. Yeah.

After dinner, I said my goodbyes and started walking home, and she began walking fast to keep up with me, asking if I was tired and did I want to hang out more — it looked like I lived close by since I was walking home. Yeah, I was tired… of her. I got the distinct impression she was trying to invite herself back to my place for some lovin’, but there would be no joy in Mudville that night.

Submitted by Keith, Age 30, Los Angeles

Always Use the Rubber Tongs

Guy Story - No Sex for Guy, High School, How Not To Get Laid, Humiliation, Icky and/or Gross, Virginity 2 Responses »

Jan 012007

I was a junior in high school dating a senior. She was a cheerleader and very cool. I was a good athlete, which helped my social status. But I also suffered from chronic dork-dom and occasional episodes of buffoonery, which didn’t. I knew it was only a matter of time before she realized this and dumped me.

I had to act fast.

Sadly, knowing I had to act fast and actually doing it are two very different things. The chance to finally lose my virginity was there, but the window of opportunity would not be open long. Weeks went by and so did the bases. First. Second. Third was discussed, which was pretty good for me. I felt that getting to third base pretty much made home plate a foregone conclusion (Years of experience would later prove this not to be the case, but I didn’t know that then).

One Sunday night, she casually suggested that I come to her house to study that Thursday, coyly tossing out the fact that her parents would be at the movies. I managed to coyly ask if there was a chance that we may do more than study and she coyly responded “Maybe.” We were both being very coy and, looking back, it’s a little nauseating. But at the time, it was riveting and totally hot.

Monday passed. And Tuesday. Each day there would be piercing gazes in the halls and evening phone conversations about Thursday.

Thursday. It shined like a beacon on a cold, virginal night.

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Soup to Nuts

Nobody Fucks the Triangle Player Either

Those Sexy Spanish Men, vol. 1

Mistakes of the Married Man

Her Baggage Has No Zipper

Always Use the Rubber Tongs

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