(There is No “I” in Team – But There Damned Sure Better Be an “O”)
Before you say this essay seems redundant (see “Sex With A Moving Object”, published earlier this summer) please note that this is actually a follow-up to that essay. I had many people—mostly male—ask me “why not just have a fling on vacation?” This is my response!
I was propositioned yesterday. And I love men—99% of them, so I was flattered. This man works construction for the host I am staying with in Spain, while I am here working at the horse barn. We met briefly yesterday and I was telling him about my trip and about my writing.
“I’m writing about my travels in Spain,” I told him. “But sometimes I fear my book will be boring, because I am not having that many adventures.”
He gave me the look. (Ladies, you know exactly the one I mean!) “What kind of adventures are you looking for?” he asked. He went on to explain how he is not getting along with his live-in girlfriend, the unmarried version of “my wife doesn’t understand me and we no longer have sex”, I suppose. He asked for my phone number and asked if we could get together that evening. Now, mind you, there were no pretenses. He did not offer to wine and dine me and take me somewhere enchanting to trip the light fantastic. Nope. This was just about getting laid.
My first inclination was to say yes. Okay. Why not? (Believe me, my therapist and I are working hard on this one!) But then I thought,
“What’s in it for me?”
Flashback three paragraphs to my title: Sex is a Team Sport. I truly believe this. I am a girl who doesn’t pay much attention to sports, but I’ve seen enough to know that those guys (and girls) work hard to cooperate together, get the ball in the net, across the line, sneak the puck past the goalie, etc. I think sex is like this. There are only two on the team, but unless you know how your teammate throws, catches, blocks, or whatever, it is going to be tough to score. And the best teams have players who work in synchronicity to make the goal.
Now, back to sex. For a man, it’s easy: put the rocket in the socket and—boom—off it goes! Well, how in the world is that good sex for the woman? Answer: it’s not! And furthermore, he doesn’t care, because he really doesn’t care about her. For some men, like one of my dearest friends, pleasing women is an art. His score is based on how many times he can get a big “O” from his partner, whether she is a one-nighter or a long term love. But most men are not like this. So why would I, a woman who can appreciate the art (and sport) of sex when it’s done properly, say yes to someone who is offering nothing more than a quickie and a goodbye?
After a bit of reflection, I told my potential conquest no thanks. “Creo que no vale la pena.” (I don’t think it is worth the trouble.)
He shook his head, disappointed. “Your Spanish is pretty good,” he commented.
I went off with a smile to clean the stables.
Alexa Maxwell is a writer, teacher, traveler and student of yoga. She is a huge fan of elephant journal and is honored to be part of the herd. You can read more at her blog here, follow her on Twitter @catnipkiss, or wait for her upcoming travel memoir which is a work in progress.