As one of the more “single” cast members of Homorazzi (yes, “single” can be used as a euphemism), I’m often the butt of our friends’ caustic sex jokes and jabs. I certainly cast myself in the role with my inability and downright refusal to “keep things private” about my sex and love life. Personally, I believe if you’re going to do something, you ought to be willing to cop to it! For that reason, my late-night delights are never secret from my friends… unless of course the man on the other end of my weekend requires them to be so (sigh, when will Obama admit to our love?).
But, when does too much get to be too much? I’ve frequently been told that I need to start curbing my enthusiasm as far as sexploits go, but I say: “No way, Jose!” … Speaking of Jose, there was this one time at Denny’s… wait, stay on track Adam!
This article will doubtlessly cause the eye rolls of most if not all my friends as they will all have their own memory of a time I divulged a bit more than they could chew: be it a story of quality, quantity, both, or neither ;) But hey, if everything is safe and legal (in at least 30 states ;), then why not? Now, this is not a commentary on the benefits of promiscuity or the freedom realized through sexual exploration and pride, but rather a question of openness. My friends- both gay and straight- are about split here. There’s certain one’s who will include the sextails of their “what’s new with me” stories immediately without prompting, then there’s others that need a little bit of the ol’: “Come on… There’s got to be SOMEone you met this weekend…” before they feel comfortable enough to tell me about the great sex or even perfect good night kiss they experienced. THEN there’s friends who stick to the weather, their work and the latest, cutest thing their dog did that morning. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good “my puppy is the smartest…” tale (okay, no, i don’t… i’m sorry patrick ;) but come on: let’s hear the nitty gritty!!
Not only does my telling too much become a problem, but when I hear about my close friends dates, I can’t wait to hear how the night ended … and then they clam up!
I don’t get it! No, I don’t need length and girth measurements (though they will never be refused), but why not tell me if you got to second? I’d like to think that my friends and I are close enough to talk about our problems, our feelings and our private thoughts… so why shut down when it gets to the bedroom? Personally, I think it’s a carryover from Victorian rules of propriety and manners. This feeling of sexual secrecy is just shame that’s been taught to us as kids that carries on into adult-life because people that break the taboo are instantly branded as sluts. Why in the WORLD is it okay to talk about what you think happens after we die and what kind of god you prey to, but mentioning something you did the night previous for 18 minutes is WAY too personally for even close-friend conversation?
I’m not exactly “standing up for sexual rights” every time I discuss the talents of my newest boyfriend of 7 minutes, but I do think that I’ve begun a dialog and feeling of ease with some of my friends that tells them I’ll listen to any story they’d like to divulge- no judgment and no shame included! If I know my friends are happy and being safe, that’s all I need… and that’s all they’ll ever get from me!