Innocent Abroad

“Sleeping with a whore, breathing right in her mouth, endlessly listening to her pissing, putting up with her stupidity and never moving a step away from her—where’s the sense in that?”—Anton Chekhov

Alli always said if you fucked a girl more than three times, you’re dating her. Apparently your average twenty-something, modern, independent woman’s brain is wired so that a couple solid fucks can still fall in the ‘hooking up’ or ‘one-week stand’ categories. But somehow that fateful third act kicks a gear in her brain and suddenly any further sexual contact constitutes both ‘longevous interest’ and the dreaded ‘intent to date’. Sleeping with her beyond that point is a recipe for disaster.

I have, as I’m sure many of you have, fallen prey to the perfect hookup going terribly wrong. It starts with innocent flirting and suggestive language that erupts into wild simian sex, but soon that morphs into dinner and bottle of wine, then to meeting friends for lunch sans alcohol. Suddenly you wake up and realize that you’re dating her, and for us males indoctrinated by the ethics of a disposable economy, that’s a frightening prospect. We want our women like we want our cars and computers and iPods—easily exchangeable and always new. Losing her can be really messy—we’ve all known that one girl who could go from sweetheart to raging cunt at the drop of a tampon and throw phones, scream obscenities, or leave dead animals on your doorstep. No guy wants that, but many men simply don’t know how to keep such attractions from forming, or how to keep a young lady from keying their car or jumping off a balcony when the realization finally dawns that her snatch is just another temporary oasis and your dick is a very thirsty camel. So read on, children, and learn how in 3 simple ‘dates’ you can go from casual acquaintance to hot fuck partner to faded memory…

So you meet the new brunette from accounting and build a rapport. You don’t want to date this girl—she laughs too loud and listens to terrible music. She’s a “devout” Catholic and you’re certain the combined IQ of all her friends is lower than the proof of liquor you prefer. But she’s hot and, what’s more, she’s willing. Your budding beer gut and bad posture from too many porn-and-sock nights at the trusty Dell can’t afford to be choosy, so you decide to sleep with her.

The first thing you need is a set-up. This can take the form of an extended lunch or quick drink. Hell, in a pinch any phone call over ten minutes can accomplish the same thing. You just want to establish that you’re single (enough) and she’s the same way, and there’s ‘something’ between you that you’d like to explore. This whole charade is solely for the purpose of providing a smokescreen of respectability and setting a time/place for a real encounter— the digital age’s version of dragging her back to your cave by the hair.

The first ‘date’: Ideally this is getting together for the sole purposes of knocking boots. A few deft texts after the bar could lead you to her apartment could lead you to her bed, and you know what to do from there (you do know, right?). At a stretch this could happen in public and resemble a real date, but don’t wear a collared shirt, don’t go for more than one activity, and don’t go home empty handed. If you don’t land in her bed, or get her into yours, all is lost.

The second ‘date’: now you’ve fucked her. It wasn’t great but neither is she– the fucking matched the personality, and there’s something to be said for that. The time around it’s definitely just for sex, and you should do as little work as possible. Make it happen at your leisure, make her do all the work, and push boundaries—get a little rough, don’t cuddle afterwards, and if she tries pillow talk either laugh at her every word or just roll over and start snoring loudly. She’ll quickly begin rethinking her attraction to you.

The third ‘date’: now comes the hard part— you want to get laid one more time, but also want to make sure this is the last time. Once again, make it happen on your terms. If she refuses and demands something more equal, just stop talking to her because Alli’s Law is still in affect and she can’t go apeshit just yet. If she persists in being a bitch about it act hurt—girls understand low self-esteem and will buckle faster than a choir boy’s knees in the rectory. If she assents and you get to stick it in, be smart: BE A DICK. If she goes down on you, try shoving your prick through the back of her neck. When you start knocking boots it needs to be even dirtier than the last time; thrust violently, pinch a nipple, spit on her twat and try all the porno moves you know. Then the coup de grace: without a bit of warning, stick it in her ass. That should be quite enough to convince any potential stalker that you don’t give a shit about her and once the night is over, don’t expect another invitation to ‘hang out’.

After that it’s a cakewalk. You’ll talk once in a while, maybe. She won’t make eye contact for a while, and she’ll be so disgusted by your antics (especially if she went along with them) that she’ll never tell her friends. She’ll feel stupid and wonder why she was ever attracted to you in the first place. All you have to do is smile congenially and start working on the new blonde in HR.

See? Psychology can be fun. Take that, Freud, you fucking idiot!

Adam

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