Hirsute Hang-Ups + Plastic Fantastic
WHY YOU SHOULD CARE
Because you can’t spell “sexess” without sex.
By Eugene S. Robinson
You have sexy questions? Eugene has sexy answers. Write. Now: Eugene@ozy.com
Barbie, Ken + The Space Between Them
EUGENE, SIR: My girlfriend has gotten into this thing and started to buy — and wants us to use — “toys.” I didn’t have a problem with this until I noticed that all of the toys were penis-shaped. Not a problem since this is what I expected when we went sex-toy shopping. I just didn’t expect all of the penis-shaped sex toys to be 10 inches long. I am not 10 inches long. This sort of sucks. Should I say something? —D. Dietrich
Dear D-Day: And what exactly would you say? On the one hand, it seems your reaction is possibly justifiably like if you were asking her to wear underwear with fake ass augmenters in them. Or fake boobs. But I didn’t make these things up and women do them anyway, to either accommodate a certain sense of self or because of the belief that it might please you. These are solitary activities, like so much stage dressing, that happen when you are absent.
Now the sex toys? On the one hand, she’s including you and you’re being invited to participate, so this could be a good thing. On the other hand, she’s including you, the holder of a sub-10-inch penis, and you’re being invited to participate, so this could be a drag. But passivity is also a drag and not particularly sexy. So while I am going to give you a pass on being irked, I’m not going to give you a pass on being sulky. Which is to say: Get back in there!
Now if she’s a size queen, count yourself lucky that she’s overlooking you not having what she wants and wants you there anyway and the toys are a sensible partial measure to keep you there and involved. If she’s not a size queen, then this is just a new wrinkle and one that you should stop sulking and enjoy. How? I don’t suspect you need a map for that, but if you do, write back and be glad that I’m willing to tell you how to get there versus show you how to get there. But good luck and Godspeed!
Foursomes Minus One
EUGENE, SIR: My husband has been trying to get us into swinging, as a couple, but I am very picky and reading your column I know there is no such thing as too picky when it comes to this. We finally found a couple we like, but now I am having second thoughts. I don’t think I am fit enough and don’t want to ruin the party. How do I get out of this gracefully? —No Lights?
Dear Arc Lights!: I don’t know how you two are going about setting this up, but unless you’re going to the Fearsome Foursome Outlet and just grabbing off-the-rack models, I am guessing you four have met somehow. Someway. Online. In person. Party. Sex club. Dinner. Bar. So, uh, they already know what you look like and the reality of it is, fit or not, you’d not have made it this far if they didn’t know exactly what they were getting. And here’s one better: I believe you are being chosen because you’re not as “fit” as you’d like to be. You being there lets the other woman, who may be grimly determined to stay fit, relax a bit.
And if she is relaxed? He is relaxed. And if he is relaxed, the greater the chance is of avoiding those uncomfortable orgy occurrences having everything to do with both erectile and difficulties. In fact, you are the orgy key here since if you’re relaxed and cool in your own skin, so will everyone else be. Your husband already knows you and your prospective other couple have already seen you. So forget about the jitters. Get some nice wine, good music, keep the lights on, have a blast. Tell them Eugene sent you!
EUGENE, SIR: Let’s call him “Erik” is bugging me about shaving my legs. I don’t want to. I tell him to shave his legs and then remember that he is a cyclist, so he already does this. He also wants me to shave my pubic hair. I told him that we have these things for a reason and porn is fucking him up. We have been together 11 months. I’m 26, he’s 27. —No Schick, Sherlock
Dear Elementary, Watson: I’m in bed. It’s late. I’ve been noshing on bed food, cookies, pastries and the like. It’s 1:30 a.m. Too tired to get up, really want to go to sleep and, outside of the vicissitudes of good dental care, could just sleep right through this. But I get up, brush the teeth, return to bed. Winners? My teeth. My partner. Losers? Maybe the cat I bother to put out now that I am standing up.
Now it takes considerably more effort to shave your legs than it does to brush your teeth, maybe, but the point is: This is the kind of due diligence we employ if we live in close proximity to other humans. Ignore me completely if you have never ever shaved your legs, in which case why would he expect change when he was attracted to the unshaved you? But if you did it once, outside of a philosophical contrariness, why not again? I got it, people change, but now you’re in a situation where you have a situation.
But maybe the legs are not the real issue. Maybe the legs are the gateway issue and really, because of delicacy issues, they’re being used instead of the pubic region, which could be the real issue. Better to argue this one as you stand a better chance of this being an argument you can win, philosophical dudgeon or no philosophical dudgeon. Assuming for a second that this is the real issue and he can’t bring himself to just ask outright, your response could be and might still comfortably remain: “I don’t feel like it.”
And then? Then let the chips fall where they may. I mean, if he hates pubes and you have pubes and he leaves on account of you refusing to shave said pubes? Well, OK. Problem solved. Glad to be part of the solution. If he starts going to bed and refuses to brush his teeth before falling asleep? Well, not so glad to be part of the problem. Good luck in any case.