What follows is a brief introduction to the players in the narrative that is my personal life. I have recently gone through a few changes in the patterns of my life, including entering a new dating field. I am interested in finding a boyfriend, yet I’m a very sexually forward and liberal man.
Peter the flight attendant is bringing his smoked brisket over tonight — I know we will have sex. I know it’s a bad idea. We have nothing in common. I know I will do it anyway. I have also made frisky friends with this young hot South American architect bottom, who is sending me “boyfriend-style” notes on Facebook, including one on my public wall. He’s intelligent and sexy, but young enough to be my offspring. I really thought it was a one-time hook-up, and it was perfect as his sexual skill sets were outstanding, but as a boyfriend, I don’t see that happening.
On the other hand, a local artist with whom I’ve had several dates but no consummation is sending me texts about going to the auto mechanic as if we are an old married couple with NO sexual tension between us. There are additionally two guys I wanted to either fuck or date in my AA Home group. One, “John,” I found on Manhunt with a screen name equivalent to “Hot Mess” with strong “bareback-only” language, which really sucks ’cause he is way too gorgeous for words. The other guy, “Chad,” drove me home last night and told me his story. He is only recently sober after a nasty meth-bender in which he sero-converted while “dating” his drug dealer. Meanwhile, an artist I had a wildly romantic tryst with in New York on my last vacation is sending me the sweetest romantic notes, but he is famous, with an international practice, and the earliest I can see him again is September. Can I cut my dick off and donate it to science?
— Puppet to His Penis
Dear Puppet to His Penis,
You are a regular multi-tasker and a bit of a shiny object to attract so many and such varied suitors. Congratulations! You are the most popular junior at Westerberger High, and a slut.
Oh, don’t get upset. I call everyone and their mothers sluts when it’s obvious that they are. I’m not judging, just identifying. I have some experience of my own by which to qualify these semi-pro statements. Easy people are good people, too.
Unfortunately, easy people often forget that they can say no. There is no reason you cannot have Peter’s smoked brisket and leave his sausage in the basket, untouched, but I can only assume that I am too late to stop this barbecue metaphor from playing out.
You mentioned that you are in the program. I would think there are a few skill sets you have picked up if you’re successfully working the program that might aid you in this war with your cock. I applaud your decision not to pursue someone who is actively pursuing unsafe sex habits. A man with your frequent-flyer miles needs to be extra safe for the protection of yourself and your extended passenger list. Furthermore, a very wise friend once told me that sleeping with or dating guys in one’s “home group” is not a good idea because you don’t want to end up with excuses to not attend your meetings. So let’s skip these two chaps all together.
You seem to speak fondly of the two artists, and they are the least easy. Not everyone will have the same sexual appetite as you and long distance sounds like a bad idea if fidelity is expected of you. See the famous dude in September, but make sure you’re not misleading him into thinking you are waiting around, painting your headboard with dreams of him.
Finally, the crux of the matter: The theme of your letter is “I am dating and fucking several men, all of which just won’t do.” So, Goldilocks, why do you keep picking unavailable and inadequate men?
That is what therapists are for.
Much love and a lion tamer for your wild willy,
Your Uncle Mat
P.S. Don’t cut it off. You’ll miss it.
Uncle Mat answers questions about relationships, sex, pets, and art. Email him at firstname.lastname@example.org, myspace.com/yourunclemat, or check out the Dear Uncle Mat Page on Facebook. Your true identity is safe with him.