September 1, 2009

Maybe It's Me: OLBC, or, The Lack of Decency with Dingle-Dangles

“Have you seen those commercials for Online Booty Call?” My friend asked.

“WHAT?! NO!!! I don’t have TV. THERE’S A PLACE TO GO ONLINE FOR A BOOTY CALL NOW?!?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Not only was I outraged, I was even more embarrassed by people my own age.

“YES! It’s like Cupid.com or EHarmony.com – only, they take care of the awkward first date, the awkward break-up, or, well, any dates or relationship that might actually take place in between those two moments, and just get right to the hooking up part. Apparently you sign on and give a bunch of information like what you’re willing to do, what you’re turned off by, how many people you’ll do it with, and then they match you with other, what? booty call people?, in your area. HOW DISGUSTING IS THAT?!? IT’S NOT ONLY A BOOTY CALL BUT IT’S A ONE NIGHT STAND . . . WITH A STRANGER!!!”

At that point she and I made several lengthy guttural sounds of horror and disgust.

This launched us into a huge conversation about twenty-something’s and their frivolous views on intercourse. What’s wrong with us? What’s wrong with our generation? Why are we so okay, so totally nonchalant about meaningless, casual sex? It’s disgusting.

The worst part is that these days it almost seems taboo not to be promiscuous.

Prior to discussing Online Booty Call, this friend and I were talking about a former mutual friend, who proudly flaunted his ever-increasing sexual partner number to us all the time.

“Why do you do that?” I once asked him. “Why do you sleep with all these girls?”

“Why don’t you?” He retorted. “You’re young! Why aren’t you going out and having fun?”

And that’s what it comes down to. At some point in our media brain-washed worlds, perhaps after listening to one too many pop songs about how awesome it is to be single and do whatever you want with whomever you want whenever you want just because you can, we have come to regard sex as an activity. As a game. Not as something special shared between two people, not as a form of the ultimate kind of love, and especially not as something sacred.

It’s just a game to a lot of people it seems. And it was for my friend as well. Could he break my self-imposed ban on boys and dating? Could he wear me out to some breaking point when I would give in to his charm and my lust? He had convinced that someday we were going to have sex. Countless times I looked him in the eye and told him how repulsed I was at him and his careless views on intimacy, yet he was absolutely positive we were going to do it.

He asked Friend A what his chances with me were. She guffawed in his face. “She doesn’t date. Soooooo, she doesn’t have sex. Because, yes, the two ARE connected.”

He asked Friend B what his chances with me were. She choked on her laughter. “Yeah, right. What can she get from you that she can’t get from her hand? Seriously. Move on.”

After that point it seemed that every time we saw him out, he was with a new horde of females, working his way through a new slew of young ladies who, like him, were out for blood in the world of casual encounters. At one point, a friend texted me and said, “Saw your boy out tonight with a gaggle of girls. That boy’s dingle-dangle is gonna fall off someday.”

I couldn’t stop laughing when I read that, so I texted my male friend and asked him if he’d been wrapping it up lately, because I was concerned, as should he be, that his dingle-dangle was going to fall off.

That was the day he stopped talking to me.

I am both amused and annoyed at this. He seemed to have no problem discussing his sexual escapades in great lengths with me. We’d go out, and he would point at all the girls he had already slept with and then laugh it off. I would ask if he had been tested or was at all concerned about his or their health, and he would respond, in the classic naïve invincibility twenty-something arrogance way, that he knew he was safe and that the girls he chose were safe and disease free, too.

The MOMENT, however, I called him out on his filthy, crude ways he got offended and told me later on that I “had hurt his feelings.”

I am frustrated and let down by people my age. Call me old fashioned, but the moment I had sex with someone when there was an intense emotional connection as well, I couldn’t fathom sex any other way. I certainly had my share of questionable moments with boys, sure, but I can’t understand in a world where now one out of three girls get HPV, there’s rampant, meaningless sex happening.

Because that’s what “going out and having fun” means these days it seems.

Why’re we so desperate for the next best thing, the next person, the next adventure or conquest, that we’re going to websites like Online Booty Call to find locals in our area who have the same lack of self-respect and decency as apparently the majority of us do that they’re looking for a quick fling to tide them over to the next quick fling.

Maybe it’s me, but what happened to class? What happened to our standards? What happened to our integrity as a young adult population?

And if that makes me taboo, then so be it.