Aspiring to be Japanese
I read in Saturday's paper that 108 is the number of times that people, on average, have sex in a year in Australia.
That's about two bonks a week.
This year I've had sex twice.
Last year 12 times.
The year before that 8 times.
In fact even in my busiest year to date, the year I first came out at 26, it was only 79.
And in the 11 years that I've been sexually active, I've realised that the total number of bonks would just about make twice the national yearly average. So much for the cliched promiscuous homosexual.
I find it funny that because I'm gay and single, many people immediately assume that I must be spending all my spare time rooting around.
And perhaps I would be. If I could afford the time and the expense.
Like most things these days, casual sex rarely comes for free. In gay terms you might get lucky and pick up at your local gym or pool, or rarely on the street. But the most common way to precure sex is to pay for it. I'm not necessarily talking rent boys, but a night out on the town, club entry, drinks and the time to cruise and chat up guys can easily be a $100 (a cheap night out!) for 8 hours and no result. A trip to the sauna is about $23 and you can get trapped in towel clad limbo for hours with no action.
It was Valentine's Day yesterday and so I thought I'd find myself some lovin'. Being a Tuesday and not wanting a late night I chose the sure fire option and went to a sauna.
Once I'm through the door, white towel wrapped around my loins, I begin to question the wisdom of what I'm doing. I mean, I'm not a twittering virgin and actually used to work for one of these joints, but having had a lot of experience with saunas I know that it's really pot luck. And waiting.
So I quickly do the rounds and the only person I find attractive is one of the staff. I end up staying in the coffee lounge with the big screen tv. I drink too much tea and watch Ghost, M*A*S*H the movie and half of the new remake of The Amittyville Horror. Occasionally I get up to pee and take a wander to see if anyone else interesting has turned up. Finally, bored, I get dress and go home.
And that's generally the way it goes.
I think even amongst gay men, there's this big myth about the availability of casual sex. I've bragged myself to disbelieving straight girls, "Yeah, if I wanted it, I could walk out this door and get sex in five minutes." I 've heard plenty of my gay male friends say the same thing. And single straight guys seem to envious of the apparently availability.
I suppose the sex is available, if you close your eyes and think of England and don't care about who you're getting it from. But if you do care, and you want someone you're at least attracted to, or better yet actually like, then no, casual sex is actually very hard to find.
Internet services such as gaydar.com are the other most common method of getting sex. But I've never had any luck here either. Perhaps naively, when I had my profile, I used a real image, a nice face shot, attached to a sincere profile. Apparently, gentle, down to earth, spiritually oriented guy translates in gayspeak as BIG BOTTOM as all I would get were anonymous postings of pictures of male gentitalia in various states of tumescence attached to profile names like 'Anal Raider'. When I'd attempt to message guys that I was interested in, I get no response. Perhaps I simply lack the patience or persistence to get anything out of these services.
I'd been thinking about that article for a couple of days and wondering how I felt to be on the down side of the national average. I mean the Americans were a little higher at 112. The French at 146 and I think it was the Scandanavians that topped out at 158. The bottom of the list were the Japanese at 46. I feel like I'd been recruited to one of those Christian Abstinance campaigns by accident. George Bush is secretly winning the war on terror. Oh my God! At the rate I'm going, I'm heading for full immersion baptism and marriage to an ex-gay dike on a bike.
Perhaps I should move to Japan and improve my odds.
That's about two bonks a week.
This year I've had sex twice.
Last year 12 times.
The year before that 8 times.
In fact even in my busiest year to date, the year I first came out at 26, it was only 79.
And in the 11 years that I've been sexually active, I've realised that the total number of bonks would just about make twice the national yearly average. So much for the cliched promiscuous homosexual.
I find it funny that because I'm gay and single, many people immediately assume that I must be spending all my spare time rooting around.
And perhaps I would be. If I could afford the time and the expense.
Like most things these days, casual sex rarely comes for free. In gay terms you might get lucky and pick up at your local gym or pool, or rarely on the street. But the most common way to precure sex is to pay for it. I'm not necessarily talking rent boys, but a night out on the town, club entry, drinks and the time to cruise and chat up guys can easily be a $100 (a cheap night out!) for 8 hours and no result. A trip to the sauna is about $23 and you can get trapped in towel clad limbo for hours with no action.
It was Valentine's Day yesterday and so I thought I'd find myself some lovin'. Being a Tuesday and not wanting a late night I chose the sure fire option and went to a sauna.
Once I'm through the door, white towel wrapped around my loins, I begin to question the wisdom of what I'm doing. I mean, I'm not a twittering virgin and actually used to work for one of these joints, but having had a lot of experience with saunas I know that it's really pot luck. And waiting.
So I quickly do the rounds and the only person I find attractive is one of the staff. I end up staying in the coffee lounge with the big screen tv. I drink too much tea and watch Ghost, M*A*S*H the movie and half of the new remake of The Amittyville Horror. Occasionally I get up to pee and take a wander to see if anyone else interesting has turned up. Finally, bored, I get dress and go home.
And that's generally the way it goes.
I think even amongst gay men, there's this big myth about the availability of casual sex. I've bragged myself to disbelieving straight girls, "Yeah, if I wanted it, I could walk out this door and get sex in five minutes." I 've heard plenty of my gay male friends say the same thing. And single straight guys seem to envious of the apparently availability.
I suppose the sex is available, if you close your eyes and think of England and don't care about who you're getting it from. But if you do care, and you want someone you're at least attracted to, or better yet actually like, then no, casual sex is actually very hard to find.
Internet services such as gaydar.com are the other most common method of getting sex. But I've never had any luck here either. Perhaps naively, when I had my profile, I used a real image, a nice face shot, attached to a sincere profile. Apparently, gentle, down to earth, spiritually oriented guy translates in gayspeak as BIG BOTTOM as all I would get were anonymous postings of pictures of male gentitalia in various states of tumescence attached to profile names like 'Anal Raider'. When I'd attempt to message guys that I was interested in, I get no response. Perhaps I simply lack the patience or persistence to get anything out of these services.
I'd been thinking about that article for a couple of days and wondering how I felt to be on the down side of the national average. I mean the Americans were a little higher at 112. The French at 146 and I think it was the Scandanavians that topped out at 158. The bottom of the list were the Japanese at 46. I feel like I'd been recruited to one of those Christian Abstinance campaigns by accident. George Bush is secretly winning the war on terror. Oh my God! At the rate I'm going, I'm heading for full immersion baptism and marriage to an ex-gay dike on a bike.
Perhaps I should move to Japan and improve my odds.
posted by Van Dino at 8:57 am
1 Comments:
Whilst struggling with recurrent depression over the past 18 months I probably would have initiated sex about 5 times in total, and had sex about once a fortnight. Now the depression has cleared up I'm catching up on all the other 135 or so times I'd missed out on meeting the national average!
Don't forget that those stats include all the str8 couples, whose husbands version of foreplay is telling her to "brace yourself". It doesn't mean they're actually having fun with it. Better to have 2 good fucks than 140 dud ones.
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