You Slept With My Stalker?

I did have a stalker once, and a friend did sleep with him and tell me about it afterwards. That little factoid proves that therea dearth of sane, sexy, available men. My stalker was a manic-depressive Brooklyn plumber with one testicle, yet I was still wildly upset when he "betrayed" me.
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There just aren't enough men to go around. You wanna talk about slim pickings? I look around and think to myself, " I'm the butch one?" Oh, honey, scary times indeed. In a more perfect world, perhaps everyone would be happily partnered, assured of always having a "better half," like the animals on Noah's Ark (and I mean the biblical fairy tale, not that hideous "comedy" that once aired on Logo). The harsh reality is that in terms of sex and romance, it's brutally competitive out there.

Strictly for research purposes, I have dipped my toes (and a few other body parts) into the seamy underbelly of the M4M scene. Dates, hookups, drive-by love affairs, I tried them all. The results were shocking and occasionally caused chafing.

First, some math: There are 314 million people in the U.S.. Roughly half of them, or 157 million, are male. Ten percent of those are gay, and of those 15.7 million, 80 percent, or 12.5 million, overpluck their eyebrows. That leaves 3.2 million potential victims candidates. Here is what I have learned.

America is very bottom-heavy, and I'm not referring to the obesity epidemic: I'm talking about all tunnels and no trains, you dig? Butches in the streets, bitches in the sheets. Haven't you ever noticed how many gay men have shower wands? They ain't for rinsing shampoo out of your hair. Other dead giveaways: Pet Shop Boys music and wall sconces. It just screams "power bottom!"

But hey, people like what they like. Personally, I'd like a man who is good at math and has a black belt in karate. You know, to do my taxes and protect me from muggers. Someone totally unsuited to me, like a humorless gay Republican... maybe a sexy banker with a throbbing stimulus package. I guess a guy who wears his watch during sex is kinda hot but a bit passive-aggressive, don't you think?

Another demographic you may encounter out there is the married closet case. It's fabulous to sleep with married dudes, because you can blackmail them for some nifty things. I've always insisted that my married men buy me shiny objects. What I meant was jewelry, but I ended up with several hand mirrors and many shards of broken glass, so I guess I should have been more specific. Hey, if someone ain't keeping the home fires burning, why should I deny myself an hour of mediocre sex with an emotionally unavailable liar? "If loving you is wrong, I don't wanna be right." (If you don't know that classic song by Millie Jackson, I urge you to download it. And by "download" I mean "steal it illegally.")

If homewrecking isn't your scene, the dating pool shrinks considerably. If you live in New York or Los Angeles, you may get involved with an actor. They are awful, because during sex they say things like, "Dude, you're blocking my key light." There are also many, many druggies and drunks out there, or (worse?) people "in recovery." At least alkies and potheads won't recall if you were selfish in bed or rifled through their medicine cabinets. But the recovering addicts are some serious work. At parties I've met a few men who are in 12-step programs, and they do not think it's funny when you say things like, "Hey, want a bump?" There are also guys out there with some pretty kinky tastes, sometimes violent, although it's always hot sex when I can think to myself, "Ah, so this is how I die." Quick note about bedroom etiquette: Most guys don't like it when you talk during sex, especially when you say things like, "Do you represent the lollipop guild?"

And yes, I did have a stalker once, and a friend did sleep with him and tell me about it afterwards. That little factoid proves that there is a dearth of sane, sexy, available men. My stalker was a manic-depressive Brooklyn plumber with one testicle (true!), yet I was still wildly upset when he "betrayed" me. It's dog-eat-dog out there, kids, so do what you gotta do to get yourself a man. Lower your standards, get Botox, pretend that you think The Hangover movies were actually funny. Be flexible! Increasing numbers of people are opting to explore "throuples" (three-person relationships), or polyamory, which Wikipedia defines as "consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy." Go for it, honey. It's like what I've always said about gay orgies: The more the Mary-er!

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