Yesterday being Valentine’s Day I took the opportunity to send messages of love and appreciation to my closest friends and family. Just like in all other instances this group of people that I’ve grown to rely on reciprocated the love and appreciation; and this demonstration kept my head above water on an otherwise lonesome day …

Any other day my phone is blowing up with fellas wanting to take me out on dates and another handful that have moved on from trying to woo me and very blatantly arrange bootycalls. I embrace all the variations of relationships with men that I have and for that reason I was shocked that yesterday my phone was completely silent. When I finally decided to quit waiting around and texted a few of my favorite dudes … Even my slutty inviting text messages garnered lackluster — or zero — responses! One guy waited until the whole holiday was over to respond and today, Feb. 15, wants me to come over! Ha!

I know V-Day puts a lot of pressure on men. They have to worry about gift-giving or planning a special evening. Not only that but they must worry about how it may be interpreted as an indication of what a relationship is or where it’s going. I’m assuming these otherwise chivalrous (pfft… sarcasm!) men would have loved to spend time with me but didn’t want to give me the impression that — God forbid — they might have some emotional investment in our relationship.

I can understand why men would rather hide on V-Day. It’s a tad shady and will definitely get you NOT laid on Feb. 15 but I guess I can appreciate the “honesty.”

Email this post

I suppose it’s inevitable that, as we grow older and our number of daily responsibilities increase despite our efforts otherwise, the random booty call can become more a burden than a pleasant surprise.

When that telltale “ding ding!” from a text message sounds, I instantly attempt a guess at who’s interrupting me:

• mom, who’s just learning how to use her cellphone
• work, with a problem I don’t want to hear about
• the bank, reminding me I have no money
• dad, also just learning how to use his cellphone

But when the beep sounds and I find a message from Dude # 1, #2 or #5 looking to meet up in an hour, horny turns to stress.

How do I find time for this? I have three deadlines, a full laundry hamper, an empty fridge and I haven’t seen my cat in days.

Alas, so it seems the days of the spontaneous sex session are over, as I officially scheduled my last booty call to fall between deadline #3 and a dinner meeting planned two hours later.

I told him to get here by 5. He arrived 5 minutes early. Good boy.

The silver lining behind scheduling said booty call is I also scheduled a deadline for him to get out of my house — just in time for a quick shower and costume change.

I had the sheets changed and my stilettos on by 6:04 p.m., AND I managed to have one of the year’s best orgasms just 20 minutes earlier.

This could work for me.

Email this post

Phone buzzed. Text message.

What up, booty call.

We’ve already discussed the etiquette behind the call of booty, and as I started tidying up my house and making sure Project Runway was set to record, I began what SHOULD have been a simple text convo confirming that yes, I was up for something.

However, things took an unexpected turn for the douchiest worst and he went from go-to guy (for both orgasms and help hanging curtains) to lame-o worth neither my time nor my vagina.

WRONG ANSWER.

When a chick not only confirms she wants to fuck you, but makes it clear she wants to fuck you RIGHT NOW, you drop everything and fuck her. Seems simple, right? Common sense, yes?

Maybe he had a lineup of phone numbers ready to text in case the first one declined his offer and, like shopping for used cars, waited to see who dealt him the best deal — “A BJ and doggie style? I dunno, man…the place across the street threw in anal and agreed to waive the cuddling fee.”

But regardless he and I both know I was the top of the line, and to think I’d waste my time settling on what we’d do before he got to my house certainly failed to keep me wet.

The fun of it is anticipating his arrival, making small talk as the shoes come off, and then going at it with no holds barred. Who wants to plan it all out ahead of time?

Not me.

Email this post

So I was ready and inspired to write a ton of (well…more like 3) pieces of OJOY genius last night. But when I sat down at my desk in my armchair with my laptop propped on a pillow (professional AND tech-savvy — get in line, boys) my cellphone buzzed.

Word up. Booty call.

As I responded, “Yes absolutely” and subsequently forgot everything I was planning to accomplish that night, I wondered what proper booty-call etiquette might be — or if it exists at all. (I can’t imagine that Emily Post devotes any time to the matter, but maybe she’s got a slutty cousin who could start her own gig…)

Question #1: Once you confirm that you both want to fuck, how to you decide who’s “host” and who’s “guest”?

Sure the host doesn’t have the burden of driving/walking/roller-skating to the sexual destination, but she DOES have the onus of cleaning up the house, locking the cats in the bathroom, and making sure the sheets are clean — and that there’s a new set ready to be laid down as soon as the other person leaves. It’s kind of a lot of work, but it’s certainly a motivator to dust and do the dishes lickity split.

I didn’t have time to clean my apartment this weekend so I hosted last night in order to kill two birds with one stone.

Question #2: Once the other has entered, closed the door and removed footwear, how do you make the first move?

Unless you’ve already laid out a plan of attack, it’s hard to know whether or not small talk and catch-up chatter is necessary in order to alleviate some of the guilt that often comes with using someone solely for sex. Common entry-level (pun intended) comments include:

• How’s work going?
• Still have that old bicycle?
• You dating anyone?

Stick to questions that require a maximum of 5 words in response in order to get to the point quicker. You don’t have all day — and if you do, get a fucking JOB.

Question #3: Does offering a glass of filtered spring water insinuate you’re expecting a oral sex?

Well I sorta expect that regardless of beverage offer, so let’s just skip to Question #4.

Question #4: If your elderly neighbors are asleep, and you know the Jewish family living above you is celebrating Yom Kippur, should you muffle your orgasm?

It doesn’t seem right to project your 90 seconds of bliss onto the rest of the community, especially when it’s 11 p.m. on a religious holiday. Saying “good morning” to Loretta and Joe, and waving goodbye to the Feingolds as you head to work the next day, never stops being awkward when you know you kept them up all night.

Lastly, but most importantly:

Question #5: How do you get the person the hell out of your house before Project Runway starts*?

Do you use the ol’ “I gotta get up early” trick (which only works at night — JFYI) or do you simply hand him a towel and start making popcorn? I guess it depends on how clearly you’ve laid out the ground rules. I turned mine into a sexy tramp stamp…just kidding, they’re actually chiseled in granite and mounted above my TV.

*This question is most relevant when your DVR and/or Tivo is busted.

Email this post