Kimmie is on vacation….and I have been running behind for the past few weeks which I blame partly on my guy pal Hugh Hunte visiting from his estate on St. Thomas island. (Hughie is a high-end sailing yacht captain and retired NYPD ESU, the elite core of the city’s best cops, the sharpshooters who can also dive into the river to save chopper crash victims, hold the hand of a “spinner” caught between the subway car and death, and talk him to a higher moral ending—and more). Ah, well, it is August, yes?
So finally I am getting to the guest post and as soon as Kimmie and I connect by phone, we will have my interview with her on her experience as a dating and sex coach.
Hugh and I were hanging out with the twenty-something crowd at Crocodiles, downtown Mahattan, on 14th Street when our conversation with the bartender, the lovely M—blonde, great body and 37—turned to hook-up sex.
“Bartenders hate bar sex,” she said, wrinkling her pretty little nose, “because it is never pretty, elegant or sexy. It’s sloppy drunk sex.”
Ouch. And so often we sex writers/advisers tell our readers to have a quickie in the back booth of their favorite pub.
“Ten or fifteen or twenty years ago, it may have been sexy,” she concedes. Ouch again.
“One of our bartenders walked back to grab some pizzas for guests and almost tripped over a man giving a woman cunnilingus. She was spread-eagled across a table in an unattractive pose—and the sweat and juices had an unhealthy glow. Maybe it was the lighting or—
“Maybe today’s twenty-somethings have, uhm, no class. Or some of them don’t.
“Young women come in here, get completely loaded, hook up with a man, or, if they are lucky, actually pick him up and take him home. It’s sad. I know they are not having orgasms. I know the sex is bad. They aren’t enjoying the sex. How good can sex be if both are blind drunk?
“And the girls have a thing for barbacks, the young, barely legal boys helping bartenders. Hank, 5’7” inches and skinny gets phone numbers every night. One night a woman had a quickie with another customer but went home with Hank. Explain that.”
The girls should listen to M. If I am their Auntie Sue, she is their big sister who would like to see them have hot sex, “not this pathetic exchange of bodily fluids.”
"These girls come in drunk and hungry, grab a slice of pizza off some stranger’s plate, drop their bloody tampons on the bathroom floor—and the sex is as sexy as someone folding a slice with grease running down their chin.”
Rarely do I get such a stinging report from the front. Think before you send me those angry emails protesting M's comments. Think. Have you been one of the un-sexy acting out badly in bars?
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