I've tried to get him to write, but he stuck firm with leaving the blogging up to me. But this week, his foundation crumbled. He has a story to tell.
My roommate can provide an insight which I cannot. Relations with the opposite sex.
Without further ado, here is Leo's guest post
* * *
Double-standards are a bitch.
It is with great trepidation that I write this--not only because
a) most of So@24's readership is female, but also because
b) most gender-based double-standards benefit males--sexual promiscuity i.e. the Slut/Pimp reputation inequality and arguably the ability to pee standing up (seriously you don't know what you're missing).
At So@24's request, I am here to discuss one particular double-standard that benefits the ladies. And hooo boy, as a single guy, it is annoying.
I'm not referring to girls being ushered in front of lines at bars and clubs as the boys line up, cash for cover in hand, like bulls being led to slaughter. Seriously that violates like four of the cardinal rules you learn in kindergarten, namely, "wait your fucking turn", but ultimately I can deal with it.
No, I'm referring to booty calls. Or more specifically, booty texts.
I'm not gonna lie. I drink a beer or two on any given weekend night. The fizzy bubbles and tasty malt do something to Uncle Leo's brain that make him feel good--specifically, horny. Sometimes this results in a booty text.
I'm a good booty texter--I keep it light, funny (I think... again, I'm buzzerooed), playful, and respectful--if the recipient is unavailable, that's ok. I'll grab some tacos on the way home and hit up YouTube for a funny video or two of a kitten falling off the back of a couch, laugh hysterically, and eventually pass out. I'm a simple guy.
Sometimes I'll have the privilege of receiving a booty text. Sometimes, however, I'm tired or reading or really into this one video of a cat with it's head stuck in a cardboard box, and frankly I'd rather just... not. So I politely, playfully, and respectfully ask for a raincheck...
...And then receive the wrath of a thousand angry gods.
Hell hath no fury like a woman turned down for sex. Don't believe me? Here are two text conversations, transcribed verbatim, all grammar and spelling remains unchanged. I've added some commentary/internal monologue.
-cellphone ding-
-I lift my head from pillow, as it's 1:46 a.m. on a SUNDAY. Yes, I mean the day of the lord, the day of fucking rest, the day I get my sweet sleep before the succubus known as Monday wakes me up by proverbially peeing on my face-
Lady 1: Hi!!
-sigh-
Leo: Whoa. Hello there.
Lady 1: What r u doing?
-trying hard not to type "Take a wild guess"-
Leo: Nothing. Trying to stay cool in our non-airconditioned house. Are you out!?
Lady 1: U could say that...
Leo: Nice. Squeeze the last few drops out of the weekend. Methinks you've had a few...
Lady 1: Maaaaaybe : )
Lady 1: So... How long are u gonna be up for?
Leo: Well considering I have work at 8 am, I was thinking at least another 3 or 4 hours.
-ok I didn't write that, I wrote this...-
Leo: ...Whyyyy....
Lady 1: I kinda wanna cuddle...
-slaps forehead, sighs-
Leo: Ahhh. I think it's a bit late--I'm exhausted and have to be up early, as much as I'd love to. Raincheck?
Lady 1: Eww really? I wasn't talking about actual cuddling u fucker!
-rubs temples-
Leo: I know! I'm sorry I've been up since 7 and was out in the sun....
Lady 1: Wow. You are really weak.
Next morning her Facebook status read "Lady 1 is thinking 3 for 1 drinks on a Sunday night = bad choices."
A second text convo, different girl
-cellphone ding-
-At home, I look over at phone. It's 1:58am on a Saturday. Last call is over and the bar lights must have just come up...this is definitely a booty text-
Lady 2: So what's up.
-Gotta be careful with this one, she can get a little terrifying when drunk-
Leo: At home, what are you up to?
Lady 2: Do u want to hangg ou
-Ruh roh. She's shammered-
Lady 2: do u want to meeet up ltaer
-Careful soldier, caaaarefull....don't cut the blue wire...steady...-
Leo: Damn, yes, but I'm already in bed, about to pass out. Long night, you around next weekend?
Lady 2: U are so fucking predictable.
-I catch my reflection in the darkened window and cock an eyebrow-
To reflection, aloud: "God damned blue wire."
Haven't heard from her since.
Now in summation, if the genders were inverted, it'd be pretty uncouth for a guy to say some of those things to a girl. "You are really weak" is like a line straight out of a mid-eighties domestic violence PSA.
Alas I must let it slide--who knows when I'll be breaking out Mr. Cellie to give the ol' contacts a quick one-eyed drunken perusal.
So ladies, please--be kind when it doesn't happen. All good things to those who wait.
