From Ross Douthat, Privilege, bottom of p. 184: One successful foray ended on the guest bed of a high school friend's parents, with a girl who resembled a chunkier Reese Witherspoon drunkenly masticating my neck and cheeks. It had taken some time to reach this point--"Do most Harvard guys take so long to get what they want?" she had asked, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I wasn't sure what to say, but then I wasn't sure this was what I wanted. My throat was dry from too much vodka, and her breasts, spilling out of pink pajamas, threatened my ability to. I was supposed to be excited, but I was bored and somewhat disgusted with myself, with her, with the whole business... and then whatever residual enthusiasm I felt for the venture dissipated, with shocking speed, as she nibbled at my ear and whispered--"You know, I'm on the pill..."
Huh? I mean, fine, if he doesn't like being pawed over by a drunk girl, that's actually somewhat understandable, but I'm unclear on whether he was turned off because a) she was making it clear what she wanted from him, b) she might just possibly not have been a virgin, or c) her fertility management indicated forethought and intelligence. Weird...
[Seems pretty clear that it is (b) and (c)...]
Posted by: David A. Spitzley | March 16, 2009 at 10:56 AM