My roommate decided to go celebrate Mardi Gras this last weekend in New Orleans.
Admittedly, my only real experience with the celebration is limited to “Girls Gone Wild” videos taped on Bourbon Street. My perception is boobs, drunk, boobs and more drunk boobs. It may be a little off.
I decided to give him a little advice before he left. It came in five little square plastic packages titled “Trojan.”
He left with five and came back with two. I would expect more in the way of writing material – not that I’m using my roommate’s drunken experience on the bayou for my own literary benefit.
He told me some story about hooking up with a chick from Australia and having public sex while people he barely knew took pictures of him in the act.
He claims to be “embarrassed” about the whole thing. But I don’t believe any guy is ever really embarrassed about any sex experience. They pretend, but really no matter what, they are just proud to get some. In fact, the only sex-related story a guy can be embarrassed about has to do with not getting it up, his teeny-weeny penis and circumcision confusion. Anything else with anyone else is pretty much groovy.
Embarrassing sex experiences are a tale only a woman can tell. And oh man, can I tell you.
I like having sex in places that are risky. It’s not exactly exhibitionism, but the idea of “getting caught” is always an adrenaline-pumper. Sometimes the bed gets boring.
So one time, the bed just wasn’t doing it for me. DJ Scrappy and I decided to take a lunch break on the whole ordeal. That’s when I started dropping hints about liking to have sex in “exciting places.”
We were walking down the stairs when suddenly he takes my advice to heart and starts to get serious about ripping off clothes in the middle of his living room. I figured kudos to him and an A for effort, so I went along with it.
Until I remembered he had a roommate, which is easy to sometimes forget because the guy never talks. Nor does he ever look at me when I do say something to him, which leads me to believe he is against me in my quest for world domination.
Anyway, I pose the question: “What if your roommate comes home?!” Which was easily deflected with “Blah blah blah” because I wasn’t listening. DJ Scrappy could have told me that his roommate was on fire and I wouldn’t have cared because all I noticed was my underwear on the floor and his face in between my legs.
Which, ironically, is when his roommate decided to walk in the front door.
I’m sure Mr. Anti-cunnilingus got an eyeful of my spread-eagle on their couch. He made some squeaking sound like a 12-year-old who just got kicked out of the dodgeball game and declared “You guys are freaking me out!” as he ran up the stairs for cover.
I retorted, “That’s so weird, we were just talking about you!”
Or maybe I said, “You fucking bastard, I thought your roommate was gone and you could hear him when he comes home. You’re always so full of crap, I hate you and I’m never going to forgive you in a million years. Where the fuck is my goddamn underwear, you asshole?!”
Anyway, I was pretty embarrassed about the whole thing. DJ Scrappy was over it after a cigarette. When we finally did make it to lunch – you know, with actual hamburgers – I felt like the waitress could read the scarlet letter “S” for “shameless cunnilingus slave driver” that was burning into my forehead.
But after some cheesy fries, it got better. DJ Scrappy made his best effort by telling me that it’s embarrassing moments like that that really make people closer.
I think a snort was my reaction at the time, but in retrospect, I think the event proved two things:
One, I’m right about men not being embarrassed about most sex-related events. And two, DJ Scrappy was right. The best thing you can do with really embarrassing sex experiences is laugh. Once humor is involved, nothing seems quite so tragic and it can actually alleviate the pressure of the situation. Embarrassment actually tests how comfortable you are with that person. Once you know it’s okay to fart in front of your partner naked, you know you’ve got it made.
Moral of the story: Farters are keepers.
Daily Nexus sex columnist Beth Van Dyke won’t be embarrassed until the video with her and the snake comes out.