A Blowjob, A Sandwich Silence

In Devin’s words: “If a woman will give me these three things, I’ll do ANYTHING for her.” Now, a lot of women (including me) would like to argue with this. But honestly, after getting enthusiastic confirmation from other men, and after thinking about all the blowjobs I’ve given vs. all the times I sat around and discussed Emmanuel Kant with my man, I was forced to admit. Devin is probably right. Again, dammit. In fact, only one part of this trifecta really varies. And that part is: SANDWICH Some men would prefer a pizza. Some would prefer a steak. Once you accept this, things actually become surprisingly easier. All of a sudden, you’re Super Girlfriend—and you have a lot more time and energy to devote to things that really matter, like work and your Friday night out with the girls. Of course, a few men actually have deeper, more complex needs—and though these men are intriguing, I tend to steer clear of them. It’s too difficult to figure out what they want out of you, the universe, life… And then, we have those incredibly frustrating men who like to pretend they’re complex—evolved, whatever. He’ll never admit to his own inner Neanderthal--but really, he doesn’t give a damn what you say or think. He’s just waiting for an opportunity to grab you by the hair and drag you back to his cave, where he’ll ravish you. Clumsily. This man is typified by Investment Banker Ex. (Yes, the one I said I wouldn’t see again. I lied.) Before our date, I wrote in to my friends over at asktheguys.info and asked “Why does this man want to see me again?” They responded: “If he's still calling, he must like you. Just because things didn't work out before doesn't mean that you can't have a meaningful relationship. People grow, gain new perspectives, and eventually come back around.” (Hmph. Asktheguys.com’s use of the words “meaningful” and “grow” would indicate that they are not Neanderthals. Note to self: be wary.) Dinner was fabulous. IBE sweetly forgave me for being 20 minutes late to the sushi restaurant, and our conversation flowed easily. I almost decided not to bring up the whole “why haven’t you called me” issue. But I never let anyone off that easy. “What’s the deal? Why are you talking to me now, after more months than I care to remember?” I finally asked him. After much hemming and hawing, he says: “I like you. I think you’re intelligent, and even though you talk too much, you mean well.” “Ahh. So most girls who talk too much have malicious and evil intent?” I asked sweetly. (Ah-ha! Screw you and your backhanded compliments, buddy.) “No…but they’re so self-centered…and…” Oh, come on now. I am as self-centered as the next girl. And so is Investment Banker Ex. The main diff is, I’m also self-aware. And he is, sadly, not. “So what do you want from me from here on out?” I ask. “No wait—let me guess: A blowjob, a sandwich and silence.” “No,” he spits, aghast. “I want to watch American Idol and snuggle up with you, because it feels good to have you close to me.” SHAME! I had implied he was a Neanderthal. BAD LENA! Snuggling would be my penance. Stupid, stupid, stupid! The thing is, IBE is a Neanderthal of the highest order. And not only that, he’s also part octopus, I think, because he had about 16 limbs wrapped around me in the space of two minutes. AND OMG WHY ARE MY CLOTHES COMING OFF WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE? What was going on was that he wanted a blowjob and silence. And sushi. If he’d ‘fessed, it might have been fine. But I don’t like liars. Especially ones who condescend the entire female gender. So I wriggled out of his grip, checked to make sure I still had my shoes—and my tonsils—and skedaddled. Sorry IBE. Next time, just be honest. TO ALL THE MEN WHO DISAGREE WITH MY BJ THEORY: Write in and tell me what you need. I believe you’re out there. It gives me hope.

According to my friend Devin, who is one of the most cynical AND most astute men I know, this is the Sacred Trifecta of basic, everyday guy needs. Everything else is either a) good in small doses or b) unnecessary.