Oh Grumble, Grumble

I’m out of sorts these days, for a variety of reasons. One is that I’m on the New Hotness Diet and Exercise Plan, so I’m tired, sore, starving and pissed off. Another is that I am so over dudes, and I know you’ve heard that before, but this time, I mean it, I swear. Those other girls are kidding, but I have never been more serious. In the last week, I have had at least two conversations with dudes about the Dating Siesta and its implications for their behavior (or at least my reception to their behavior) and neither took it well.

Also, I’m pretty sure my friends are tired of hearing about all of this, which is why I’m bothering all of you with it. Ordinarily I try to shield you from the less entertaining aspects of my life, my little pumpkins, but it’s either this or a therapist. And ever since my last therapist stalked me, well, I’ve been a little gunshy.

My guy friends do not understand my dilemma at all. The Mouse for example, set down his beer and glared at me.

“Now let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re telling me that your big problem right now is that men want to have sex with you?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds stupid,” I admitted. “But listen, that’s all they want.”

“Honestly, most of the time, that’s all any of us want. That and beer. Oh, and an Xbox 360.”

And then I went and lay down in the road. No, I didn’t. I just blinked twice to let the fog clear and said, “But the problem is, that’s all they want.”

I have many problems, but perseverance isn’t one of them. (Or, depending on how you look at it, it’s the only one. Hmm. Hmm.)

Later this week, I caught up with my friend Deete on IM. Most people like to start their IM conversations with a simple, “Hey, how are you?” I like to open with a poll:

Jennie SMASH!: so let me ask you a question
Deete: go
Jennie SMASH!: do i seem like a giant ho-bag?
Deete: ohyes
Deete: i’ve always said that about you
Jennie SMASH!: because i’m on this dating siesta, and 80% of my male friends seem to think they’re going to coax me into the sack
Deete: ha
Deete: um just want what they can’t have
Deete: esp. if you’ve made it known that you’re on the siesta in the first place
Jennie SMASH!: well, that might have something to do with it
Jennie SMASH!: but it’s starting to piss me off, not to put it too strongly
Deete: i could see that
Deete: it would be one thing if they were sincere
Jennie SMASH!: exactly
Deete: but you can tell they’re not?
Jennie SMASH!: but it’s not really a compliment
Jennie SMASH!: oh, they’re sincere
Jennie SMASH!: they sincerely want me to remove my pants
Jennie SMASH!: and i’m sincerely sick of it
Deete: you should write just that in your blog
Jennie SMASH!: i think i will

Published by Jen Hubley Luckwaldt

I'm a freelance writer and editor.

13 thoughts on “Oh Grumble, Grumble

  1. Okay. This is very true. Won’t deny that pants-off is the ultimate goal. BUT if along the way to, and after nekkid-time, you find someone that is great to hang out with sans nekkidness — well it’s better than beer. There. I said it. Having a pal that you can shag is the real deal, guys. Men, feel free to take my membership back. I don’t want to sleep with ya’ll anyway, so what use are you.

  2. Mouse, I don’t know about BETTER than beer, but it is pretty nifty.

    And no ladies, we really aren’t that hard to figure out. You, however, are a mystery beyond the comprehension of mortals.

  3. Dear Smashitos and Smashitas:

    Gold is rarely found in metallic form, it has to be processed to convert it. It’s value is based upon rarity as well as beauty, as our lovely JS has been finding out since her announced siesta.

    Fuck buddies dropping out of the woodwork.

  4. Yes, yes. many y-types are that simple, unless the’ve been to SCHOOL. That’s why they call it the Y chromosome (they never say no.)

  5. AHHH… but REAL Y’s (as opposed to “y”) have enough experience, wisdom, or luck (or plain-speaking mothers who told them) that making love is better, bigger, and badder than sex. Off the hinges compared to a good sweat.

  6. We are hard-wired to pair off, one way or another. Too bad that so many y’s are still paired off with their right hand.

    To those impoverished dorks who have no time to invest, sorry me buds, but all you’ll ever get is laid… and not well, and not often. If you don’t agree, then you’ve never been there, so stop excusing your tired, limp wrist with “It’s just the way we are.”

  7. Ms. Smash, I never thought I’d say it, but “Me, too.”

    I’m done with boys. Men are nonexistant and boys are obsolete. What good is another needy, under-employed boy?

    The dot.com bubble burst when the market figured out that a good pitch and venture capital, without a real product and time to develop a market, adds up to dot.done

    Why don’t these guys figure this out? Those with jobs are players; Those without are puppy’s looking for Purina. Yuck.

    Sorry, pupchicks, this Ralston factory is closed for repairs, too.

  8. Cap, my brother, that is the second time you’ve seconded sex to something else – first football and now beer. Who ARE these women you’re sleeping with?

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