I had a conversation about sex last night and I wanted to share it with all of you.
Because I overshare.
Next week I am planning a post about the color of my phlegm and how many times in my life I’ve had a UTI.
We were talking about the weekend and the topic of strippers came up – naturally.
Martini: Have you ever done that for a guy?
Me: What? Stripped? Well, duh. You kind of have to in order to get to the next part.
Martini: No … like a lap dance. Like a strip tease.
Me: No. No, no, no. I wouldn’t know what to do with my hands. I’d probably start voguing or something.
Uproarious laughter from Martini. Now, granted, she and I had just come from the world’s scariest workout with our friend A-to-the-izzo where a wee little man with chicken legs and a buzz cut forced us to jump up and down and punch things for an hour while shouting something about swatting flies and playing songs about “The Candyman.” Obviously, the only way to recover from said workout was a dinner of nachos and skinny girl margaritas at a nearby Mexican restaurant. We were dehydrated.
Martini: You’d start voguing???!!!
Me: Yeah, probably. (SG demonstrates amazingly sexy voguing skills.) Or doing the running man? Or just like pantomime or something. Like, “I’m stuck in the box. That’s right big boy. I’m in the box. You want me? Come and get me out of this box.”
More laughter.
Martini: Seriously. (Laughs.) You wouldn’t know what to do with your hands?? Oh my god. Light bulb moment. I know why you’ve been single for so long. We can fix this.
Me: Really? I mean, you don’t vogue during sex? Really?
(Actual snorts and hands slamming on the bar, causing the waitress to look over at us and consider, for a moment, stopping service.)
Me: Seriously, though, I know what to do with my hands during sex … I think. (It’s jazz hands, right? Jazz hands?) But when the spotlight is all on me, like if he was just sitting back looking at me expectantly; I’d probably go for the BJ before the strip tease. I can shake the booty, but what do you do with your hands?!?
It’s like people who go “running” down major thoroughfares. Why do they do that? They look stupid. Why? Their hands. They’re just kind of awkwardly flapping at their sides.
I warned you earlier I dance a lot like Elaine from Seinfeld. I don’t think those moves should ever be brought out in the bedroom. Ever. Well, maybe …
In all seriousness, this particular point of sexiliciousness has been a sore spot, a sort of kryptonite in my superhero-like self confidence, for some time. Maybe I should take a class. Or put a stripper pole in my bedroom. Or bring back voguing.
Or maybe not everyone is meant to have the strip tease in their arsenal. Maybe some people are better off just tying those hands to the bedpost than trying to bust out a H.O.T version of the Tootsie Roll.
What do you all think? What makes you feel awkward? Do you try or just give it a pass? Discuss.
P.S. I don’t think I need to remind you that it’s Limerick Wednesday, as it has gained unprecedented popularity. Maybe something about voguing is in order …
Because I overshare.
Next week I am planning a post about the color of my phlegm and how many times in my life I’ve had a UTI.
We were talking about the weekend and the topic of strippers came up – naturally.
Martini: Have you ever done that for a guy?
Me: What? Stripped? Well, duh. You kind of have to in order to get to the next part.
Martini: No … like a lap dance. Like a strip tease.
Me: No. No, no, no. I wouldn’t know what to do with my hands. I’d probably start voguing or something.
Uproarious laughter from Martini. Now, granted, she and I had just come from the world’s scariest workout with our friend A-to-the-izzo where a wee little man with chicken legs and a buzz cut forced us to jump up and down and punch things for an hour while shouting something about swatting flies and playing songs about “The Candyman.” Obviously, the only way to recover from said workout was a dinner of nachos and skinny girl margaritas at a nearby Mexican restaurant. We were dehydrated.
Martini: You’d start voguing???!!!
Me: Yeah, probably. (SG demonstrates amazingly sexy voguing skills.) Or doing the running man? Or just like pantomime or something. Like, “I’m stuck in the box. That’s right big boy. I’m in the box. You want me? Come and get me out of this box.”
More laughter.
Martini: Seriously. (Laughs.) You wouldn’t know what to do with your hands?? Oh my god. Light bulb moment. I know why you’ve been single for so long. We can fix this.
Me: Really? I mean, you don’t vogue during sex? Really?
(Actual snorts and hands slamming on the bar, causing the waitress to look over at us and consider, for a moment, stopping service.)
Me: Seriously, though, I know what to do with my hands during sex … I think. (It’s jazz hands, right? Jazz hands?) But when the spotlight is all on me, like if he was just sitting back looking at me expectantly; I’d probably go for the BJ before the strip tease. I can shake the booty, but what do you do with your hands?!?
It’s like people who go “running” down major thoroughfares. Why do they do that? They look stupid. Why? Their hands. They’re just kind of awkwardly flapping at their sides.
I warned you earlier I dance a lot like Elaine from Seinfeld. I don’t think those moves should ever be brought out in the bedroom. Ever. Well, maybe …
In all seriousness, this particular point of sexiliciousness has been a sore spot, a sort of kryptonite in my superhero-like self confidence, for some time. Maybe I should take a class. Or put a stripper pole in my bedroom. Or bring back voguing.
Or maybe not everyone is meant to have the strip tease in their arsenal. Maybe some people are better off just tying those hands to the bedpost than trying to bust out a H.O.T version of the Tootsie Roll.
What do you all think? What makes you feel awkward? Do you try or just give it a pass? Discuss.
P.S. I don’t think I need to remind you that it’s Limerick Wednesday, as it has gained unprecedented popularity. Maybe something about voguing is in order …
