Thursday, July 30, 2015

Advising the Youth

Last night, after doing a favor for a buddy of mine, he promised that he’d buy a few beers. I had about an hour to kill before he’d make it to the bar but I decided that it never hurt to be early so I went ahead. I got into the bar and it was already packed with people who had left a wedding reception early but fortunately there was a chair open at one of the tables. I walked up to it and saw that Frank, a nineteen year old kid I knew was sitting there. I asked if I could join him and he said sure, so I sat down. We got to talking, and he mentioned that he and his friend Lisa had decided that since both of them were busy in college that they should become ‘friends with benefits’ so that they wouldn’t have to worry about studying and, in Frank’s case, studding.

I was horrified and told him that he should think seriously about it before doing so. He asked why and I told him that while it sounds good, there’ll be a point where one of them will want more than the other is willing to give. He laughed it off and told me that wouldn’t happen, he and Jen were on the same page – after all, it wasn’t about love, it was about sex…until someone they did love came along then it would go back to just hanging around with the other.

“Look,” I said in my best fatherly sounding tone, “The whole friends with benefits thing don’t work because there’s a base of attachment that you’ve formed with the chick. So you’re telling me one of you isn’t going to get a little hurt when the other is slurping on someone else’s hot dog or eating some cream pie?”

“Huh?” was Frank’s response.

Why don’t people understand what I’m telling them the first time? It never fails, I think I’m rather clear…I don’t talk with my mouth full and I make eye contact, but I always have to explain. I tried again, “She’s not just a piece of ass with nice tits – she’s has a brain, right? You ask her questions and she gives you answers, right? Then bopping her pita with your baloney ain't going to fly, someone's going to get that poor me attitude and resent the other eventually.”

Frank nodded then tried to counter with, “You slept with mom, but your still friends, right?”

“That’s totally different,” I counter pointed. “Sure I twirled the pubic hair mambo with your mom…why are you shivering? You cold or something? You should have worn a jacket…kids these days! Banging your mom was more of an experiment – we wanted to see if there was anything physical between us. There wasn’t so it was no big deal, we could look at each other afterward fine and dandy, no harm, no foul.”

“But you’re still friends,” Frank argued, “It’d be the same for Lisa and I – it’s just sex, not a relationship.”

“Once is sex – after that there is an expectation,” I furthered my point with, “After the second time both of you will develop a sense of dependency on the other to scratch the hormonal itch – your friendship goes to a different level, which in most cases, is a negative asset on it. Friends with physical fulfillment expectations often can lead to expectations of emotional fulfillment as well. You can be friends for awhile, but one of you is going to have that brain spasm that says that you are lovers and all the baggage that the term lover brings with it. You can be friends before you sleep with a chick, you can be friends after you sleep with a chick, but you can’t be friends after you sleep with a chick and tell her, ‘sorry can’t do it anymore, I’ve found someone who actually interests me’ and expect everything to be hunky dory.”

I didn’t think Frank was totally convinced from my argument. I decided that I should make my point one more time. “Listen that whole benefit doesn’t work – if you don’t want commitment, you have two choices: firstly, masturbate.”

Frank choked a little on his beer and said that he didn’t do that.

“Of course you don’t, you just buy ‘Hustler’ for the art,” I cajoled. “The second option is just sleep around…hell there’s lots of chicks that dig that.”

Frank gave that face that said I’m-going-to-humor-the-crazy-old-man, rolled his eyes and responded, “Right, I’m sure.”

“I’m not joking,” I insisted, “just look around; there’s a bevy of him right here! I could get laid right now without even trying.”

“So says the man who has really super soft hands,” Frank smirked. “Prove it.”

I’m always up to back my points up. “Fine,” I said and told him to point to any woman in the bar that wasn’t currently playing tonsil hockey. He looked around and spotted one standing at the bar waiting for Michelle to get her drink. I nodded and yelled, “Hey Brenda!”

Brenda looked around and spotted me and yelled in her sweet and sexy rye burnt voice, “What?”

“You and me behind the dumpster after last call – we’ll show the tomcats how a real pussy yowls!”

She responded just as I knew she would, “Fuck you!”

I looked at Frank and said, “See? Easy breezy,”I congratulated myself, rather proud that I had made my point so quickly. Frank however, didn’t look satisfied.

“What are you talking about? She shot you down.”

Ah, the joys of inexperience. I shook my head and chuckled, “No she didn’t.”

“Yes she did, she said fuck you,” Frank insisted, showing his greenness of interpreting how things are done in the bar. I always love the opportunity to teach the youngsters in incidental learning situations.

I gave a knowing smile and explained, “No, you mistook what she said for what she meant - she abbreviated her willingness.”

“This I’ve got to hear…,” Frank muttered…you know, say what you will about today’s youth, but some of them do want to learn!

“It’s just too loud in here and she’s well aware that men don’t process more than one or two words of a sentence anyway. She knew that I would hear the entire “yes I want to” so she shortened it.”

“There’s got to be another seat somewhere,” Frank muttered as he looked around the bar. That’s the only complaint I have about some of the kids today, they just can’t seem to sit still for too long. Unfortunately for Frank there was a wedding party going on so chairs were scarce.

Frank scanned the bar again and saw a tall redheaded woman swaying by the jukebox; I could never understand how some women around midnight on a Wednesday night could hear the music before it started. “How about her?”

I nodded and shouted, “Yo Rhonda!” Rhonda looked at me, so I knew I had her attention. “Wanna do the hoochie koochie and let me smoochie your poochie?”

She considered my offer for a minute and shouted back, “Get bent!”

I grinned once again triumphantly at Frank. “See, another one I’m going to have to let down easily before her engine gets too overheated,” I said. I suppose I shouldn’t have said my concern but I thought it best to explain why I wouldn’t be taking Rhonda home since Frank looked rather confused. “I’m not sure about threesomes. Who’s Ben anyway? I’m always hearing that, get Ben  Tuh – he must be awfully damn good whoever he is…and what’s with this habit of women around here always mispronouncing inititals? Why can’t they say ‘Tee’, not Tuh?”

Frank looked at his beer bottle longingly, “I need another drink.” I thought it was a fine idea so I called the waitress over and we ordered a couple more. He looked a tired look that I see so often when I’m trying to educate these young pups.

“You’re not convinced?” I said, “Fine, another one then.”

Frank gave me a resigned look; he knew I had proved my point. “You’re not going to let this go are you?” I shook my head with a big old grin on it. He looked around by the pool tables and pointed at this sweet little thing sitting in between the two pool tables. “What about that one?”

I almost didn’t, she was a young’un, but I had to prove my point. “Hey Chas, lets get together after the bar and see if you can ride this bronco for more than eight seconds!”

She gave a little protective snort – I instantly recognized it as the “I’ve-heard-of-your-legendary-lovemaking-skills-and-I’m-worried-that-you’ll-be-too-much-for-me” look, which was confirmed by her response “I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten foot pole!”

I turned back around to Frank and said, “Isn’t that cute? She thinks its ten feet long! I better reassure her so she’s not so frightened.” I leaned back in my chair and shouted, “Hey Chas, don’t worry it’s not that big – It’ll only feel that way!”

I looked at Frank again, with a dead serious look that he could interpret as one of two things, either I wanted him to listen to my wisdom or that I was holding in a noxious blast of gas. I wasn’t about to tell him that it was actually both, he’d know in about a minute or so anyway. “See, Frank,” I said to him, “You don’t need to go down the friend with benefits route. I didn’t even get out of my seat and I have women already lined up.”

Frank stared at me for a moment; his eyes welled up from the depth of my wisdom or from the result of the massive air bubble that had escaped through my pant leg – and I knew that I had saved yet another soul from traveling down that sticky benefit route, now I just had to go break the hearts of three women and tell them I wasn’t serious….
Getting tired of pitying yourself yet?” I called out.
Fuck off – I’m fine!” 
I can see that…” I muttered more to myself than to actually be heard.

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