One is Never Enough

Recently, I was reading an article written by a single woman who edited sex diaries-personal accounts of everything that happened in a week of an anonymous New Yorker’s private life (aka: a nosy person’s dream job; aka: MY dream job). She was fascinated by some people’s exploits and preferences, especially those who had a close friend with whom to occasionally have sexy times, and occasionally have friend times. (No, it gets weirder…) These people were also in committed relationships. They weren’t cheating, or pulling a Kristen Stewart (too soon?). The other mate was well aware of the arrangement and was accepting of it.

The article continues as this woman decides she wants to try “playdates” (original term, I know) with people she was attracted to, yet not at risk of developing an emotional involvement with. I interpreted this as a single girl sleeping around in fancier terms, but I digress. Yada yada yada, the article goes on to tell of her first experiences, until…

This lady meets her soon to become boyfriend. In what I believe is the smartest idea this young woman has ever had, they decide to date nonexclusively since they lived across the US from each other. Then, this fellow decides to move in and she writes, “Given that we’d successfully had other partners through our first year of dating, I couldn’t see a compelling reason to give up my playmates, and neither could he.” (…and weirder.) My favorite part of the article? “We enjoy and nurture our relationship and fill our lives with a select group of deeply trusted friends/lovers to dabble with when one of us traveling or needs attention.”

Um….what? Did I read that right? I read it again and again. I couldn’t wrap my head around this. And on a side note, the fact that she uses the word “dabble” when discussing this topic was, for some reason, also disturbing to me. Now I realize that everybody’s needs and preferences are different; I appreciate that. For this couple, it allowed them to successfully stay together for three years and counting. But to me, this simply seems like someone who is unwilling to make a committment to another person and trying to rationalize it. And even more bizzaro is the fact that the people they have “happy time” with are THEIR FRIENDS. As I read this I sat there trying to think of even one male friend I have who I could do this with (as I am in a happy, committed relationship) and every face that entered my mind made me burst out laughing. I love my male friends, and no, they are not all disgusting pigs, but I simply cannot think of them like that. Having to interact with them following a potential sexy time was something I literally could not fathom.

All joking aside, though, I really want to know some of your opinions about this topic. Could you do this if you were in a committed relationship? Would you be willing to dabble?

Until next time…

Thanks for the lay…now get out.

I am not a frequent reader of Elle magazine, but when I stumbled upon their monthly advice column Ask E. Jean, I found myself reading with my mouth literally open in what was either astonishment or difficulty breathing due to the local high pollen alert. Either way, the first question that a devoted Elle reader wrote immediately caught my attention. Without boring you with the details, I’ll get to the good stuff. She writes:

My girlfriends and I want to know why men we meet keep sleeping over after sex instead of getting dressed and leaving like men are supposed to! We try to come up with the perfect way to get them to leave without making them mad, but we can’t find the words.

Before I even read the advice, I immediately thought ‘Miss Thang, don’t flatter yourself! All the dude wants is a little slap & tickle and then be on his merry way!’. But then I began thinking about a recent story from a friend of mine whose sexual escapades never cease in hilarity. In a nut shell, the same thing happened to her. The kicker? It was the same guy twice and he ended up getting furious with her when he was asked to leave! Picture this: grown adult man (although I am questioning now if “adult”
is an adequate adjective for this fellow after hearing the tantrum he threw), standing there naked, only wearing socks, yelling obscenities, and trying to make, yet failing miserably at, a grandiose exit.

So now to the dessert portion of our meal…E. Jean answers by giving these three sagely tips:

1. Immediately upon seeing him, greet him with a kiss and say, “I can’t let you keep me up too late, darling, it’s a school night.”

2. When you arrive home and reach the bedroom, whisper, “Since you have to leave so early tonight, I hope I can see you next Saturday.”

3. When you send him out at the door pop a bagel in a bag, hand it to him, and say, “Breakfast for my gangsta boy!”

You guys, I am not making this up. This was her real advice. I found myself shouting at the page, “WHAT ARE THIS WOMAN’S CREDENTIALS?!” The obvious flaw being what guy wants to be handed a bagel…it should be more like, can I get an order of Buffalo Wild Wings or a nice slab of ribeye steak on the way out? And secondly, what decent man, who does not have an oversized ego the size of their, what is sure to be, gelled up Guido hair, wants to be called anyone’s ‘gangsta boy’?

I may not be the leading expert in the field of one-night-stand-and-then-be-on-your-way-ology, but I’m even more positive that Ms. E. Jean is even less of an expert than I to have given such incredulous advice.

Until next time…