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.

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Don’t: Don’t use FacebookChat to vent your feelings.

Using that sometimes-functional service, rather than email, text or (GASP) conversation, shows me that, for one thing, you’re a total coward and think it’s the safest way to release your wrath without having to stick around for a response.

And if you “ping” my Facebook page at 2 a.m. on a weekend, it shows me that you’re not only a coward, but also likely drunk and alone in your room, which makes you even more pathetic.

If you’ve got unfinished business, or you just want the opportunity to call me a douche/slut/bitchface, at least use a communication method that I might actually be inclined to look at. When Picasso was inspired to create his next masterpiece, he didn’t reach for the nearest Arby’s napkin and start painting. That shit only would’ve worked for Warhol.

You could be pouring your heart out in the most eloquent prose, but the fact that it pops up in a little box in the lower right corner of my screen makes me not only squint to read it, but also enticed to copy/paste and send it to all my friends. Why? So that we can laugh at you.

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Dude on a plane sent me a text message!

After more than two months of occasional neutral “Hey, how are you, ttyl” type emails, this gentleman has taken our relationship to the next level by sending a “Hi, just keeping in touch” text!

Whether this is the modern male’s way of e-courting, I have no idea, but I’ve noticed a common theme in each of his messages:

Never has he hinted to the idea of going out on a first date, or being interested in anything more than being pen pals. There have been suggestions to go to places that he and his friends might be, but never a, “Hey, want to come to this movie that I’m also attending? Maybe we can sit next to each other, and possibly even speak?”

Even this latest text clearly stated he was sending it to me in order to keep in touch and say hi, but nothing more.

So I wrote back: “Great to hear from you! I’m doing well. Would you like to meet up sometime?”

He wrote back immediately. We’re going out on Wednesday.

But wait — following these rules of first-base email, second-base text, did I just steal home plate? Does that make me an e-slut?

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I met a snake dude on a plane, who, after an hour of easy conversation and drowning slightly in his big blue eyes (barf, I know) asked for my business card. Of course, I was fresh out of cards (fuck you, Murphy) so I wrote my name and cellphone number on a piece of paper. After taking it, dude-on-a-plane handed it back and said, “Hey, put your email on here.” Odd, but sure, whatev. He’s cute and knows how to surf.

It’s been two weeks and the only form of communication he has used so far was a text message (which was a response to one from me) and two emails, each one sent on Monday around the same time.

Has today’s single male given chivalrous courtship a makeover? Or are emails the new “first base?” I dunno how many times I’m going to have to check my Gmail — and double-check my grammar — before I get a second-base text message, but I’d rather find a way to steal third and head straight to home plate.

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