MONDOmagazine

Living in the Awkward Age

By Sarah Redbird

In a city of three million people, it’s not hard to find yourself alone. Dating, for some, is code for expectations waiting to be dashed — the pregnant pause adjacent to disappointment. The desire/need/compulsion to meet someone compatible, someone to occupy the other armchair in your notions of the future, can drive you to both fascinating and horrifying situations. Namely, speed dating.

Despite personal reservations and clad somewhere between classy and indifferent, my friend and I venture to a College Street haunt for a night on the romantic merry-go-round. Promptly we file ourselves in with the 20- to 35-year-old set. In a crowded Little Italy lounge, romantic hopefuls mingle awkwardly; why strike up conversation before the paid hosts instruct you to do so? We certainly didn’t pay $50 for mediocre appetizers AND the responsibility of initiating conversation with a selection of singles in our respective age group. Paying a third party for the right to romance is our urban privilege.

Avoiding eye contact with our eventual suitors, we sign in, receive assigned numbers and make our way downstairs. In the basement portion of the lounge, the ladies are instructed to sit at a table that features their corresponding number. The scenario is playful. The subtext is competition. Girls giggle among their respective gaggles. Boys acquire drinks and divert eye contact from one woman to the next. The ladies arrive in numbers, the gentlemen filter in alone.

Almost mockingly contrasting modernity and the old fashioned, the hosts inform us that the men shall rotate at the sound of dollar-store noisemakers, beginning their evening with the lady whose number corresponds with theirs. They are to then move along consecutively until they have had the opportunity to meet with each woman.

Matt joins me first. Tall, confident, and broad shouldered, he announces that he’s a grade 7/8 math and science teacher. We discuss teaching and our respective favourite age groups. The chemistry is underwhelming and proves disappointing as an indicator of the evening’s final conclusion.

A few dates later, and I’m sitting with Will, an energetic Chinese man with red wine-stained teeth and an enthusiastic use of the word “sexy.”

“I work for U of T,” he grins.

“Oh really? Doing what?” I counter.

“Teaching others to be as sexy as me.”

Stymied by this clumsy attempt at flirtation, I giggle and will the noisemakers to sound with my mind.

Three dates later, I’m sitting with Michael, a gentle and funny soul: a computer-programming Keanu Reeves. We engage in some mild flirtation… a seven on the love metre. The noisemakers sound too soon. Everybody switch!

Steve joins me next with an assumed familiarity. He smiles generously and mentions his involvement in theatre: a front-of-house supervisor at a downtown venue. Our conversation dances playfully around topics such as theatre and our respective university experiences — as much as four minutes will allow. The noisemakers sound and I make the requisite check next to his name.

With the evening drawing to a close, the hosts thank us for perpetuating their business and everyone continues to mingle with evidence of a night well spent beaming across their faces. Eager not to mar the experience by panting after the most checked guy, my friend and I exit and seek out pizza.

A few days pass and we wait for an email indicating whether or not the gentlemen we dig will dig us back. Did we imagine any chemistry? Were the dimmed lights and chicken satay skewers making us see things that weren’t actually there? In my inbox, I locate a message indicating that three of my choices chose me as well. My ego is momentarily rubbed and I stare at the computer screen considering my next step.

Over the course of a couple of weeks, I dance periodically over email with one of the matches, but nothing materializes. I had already decided that the other two matches were accidental ink blotches and I wasn’t really interested anyway. Ultimately the event reads like my late teens and early twenties in fast forward: all the sensations, insecurities, challenges, and foibles typical to dating available in high speed.

I soothe my apathy towards the outcome by repeating a doughy analogy in my head; romance is not unlike that College Street haunt, it exists and although you may have to sift through some hipsters to find it, it’s there. Unless, of course, it burns down.

MONDO’s resident Dr. Feelgood feels bad

I’ve always prided myself in being a professional man and doctor of funkology. So, why then have I been slacking off on these entries? Well, because I need my own help. You may have read my last columns where I laid out how I’m not getting laid out.

It’s been the worst of times.

There is no beginning to that sentence.

So, forgive me, readers. All your letters have touched me, but your touch isn’t stirring anything. The only thing that’s been stirred is bowl after bowl of cookie dough, as I make chocolate chip cookies and watch my soaps, and cooking shows that show me how to make more cookies. It’s been a hard and vicious cycle, and I must have gained about 30 pounds in the last month, with exponential growth continuing. As my metre stick is no longer taking proper measurements, and looks more like a tape measure, I can’t see it over my new belly hump. I’m getting a little worried as stairs, and even sitting up, are starting to wind me, but it’s not like I have a lot to get up about these days.

Life without sex has been like life without sex. I’ve found myself with a lot more time on my hands as they aren’t filled with breasts. So, I’ve begun to bake things in the shape of breasts. While the first time was somewhat amusing, I find my own joke getting stale and each pert cookie tit reminds me of what I’ve lost as the chocolate nipples melt in my mouth. I’ve learned a lot about the lives of the men and women at General Hospital and have begun to recognize recurring characters in Girls Gone Wild — though I think those girls are mostly heiresses. I’ve thought a lot about heiresses too.

I’ve become a shadow of a man. A hollow void. Oh fleshy mound, hear my pleas.

Anything PG can do, R can do better.

Dear Goldie:

I slept with this guy I hooked up with on the Internet about six months ago. We haven’t slept together since, but we continue to talk online and we have a lot of explicit conversations. I keep telling him that I would love to hook up again, but he is claiming that he doesn’t want to have sex with anyone, because he is really messed up about women right now and doesn’t want to ‘get involved’. He does say he will let me give him a blowjob, and will do some things to me, but not much. I am going through a huge dry spell, and wouldn’t mind the action, but is this worth it if there is no sex? Is it worth trying to coax him into having sex with me?

Hot for Cock

Dear HC:

Well, I can’t really answer that question for you… You say that you are desperate for some action, but you have to ask yourself, will having pg-type encounters leave you more horny and unsatisfied? You have to give the guy credit here, he is being honest and respectable, so I think you should give him the same treatment; trying to force him or trick him into sleeping with you is a bit desperate. There is a man, or many men out there would be happy to give you a good rocking in the sack. If this is some plan to eventually date this man, steer clear, it sounds like he knows what he wants, or doesn’t want, as the case may be. Do not try to date him. It seems like you need a bit more than he is willing to give, so go out and get it from someone else. If you insist on hooking up with him, there is always the option of involving a large dildo in the action that might get you by until the real thing comes along. Keep searching though, he’s out there, and soon will be in you.

Until next time, muffins, don’t give up on your dreams, there is someone who will whip you with a meter stick while pulling your hair and calling you Nancy. Tah!

Mz. Goldie tackles the question on every woman’s mind, and in every man’s fantasy books.

It’s cold honies, and I’ve been keeping warm with a hot little number I met when he served me some hot chocolate, and then I served him a hot bj in the bathroom (who says making minimum wage isn’t a good life?). I hope you all have found a sweet one, or two or three to survive the long winter with; if not, get on it, all the good ones will be gone by 12:03 on New Years! Now, on to the question.

Dear Mistress Goldie:

I am a fairly open-minded 25-year-old girl in Saskatoon. I was watching some adult movies with my boyfriend and he seemed to get really excited at the “facial” scene. I don’t get it, the idea seems kind of gross to me. Is there something I am missing?

Thanks, love your article!
Wondering Woman

Dear WW:

Ah, the age-old question of the facial. Women have been trying to understand this one for centuries. I’m sure this is the real reason that Anne Boylen lost her head; she said “Henry, you’re not putting that shit on my face, quit it” and then he locked her in a tower. But I digress. The thing with the facial is, you either love it or you hate it; there is no middle ground when it comes to the funky stuff up in your grill, as the kids say. From a man’s point of view, there could be plenty of reasons why they love it. Power is one, they like the idea of disgracing you a bit. Now, don’t freak out, this usually has nothing to do with the guy being an asshole in the grand scheme of things, it’s just a sexual power thing, much like when you sit on his face. You do do that right? The other, most common option is that he is visually stimulated. The idea of seeing his love juice spray on your face turns him on; this is also the reason that when you look up while giving a bj, you’ll catch his eye — he loves to watch. Honey, the bottom line here is, it is quite a normal fetish, and unfortunately, the only way to see if you would be into it or not is to try it. Maybe, if you’ve never had the stuff on you before, you should try it in a more safe place first: tits, stomach, back, then move up to the face. And trust me honey, if you’re not into it, you’ll know pretty fast! I recommend it though, if you’re into the hot, dirty girl kind of thing, which really, deep down, aren’t we all, even just a little?

Until next time, cuddle up, stay warm, keep it hot.

Prescribing: staying out of my way.

Did you read my last column? Because if you didn’t read that yet, turn back because I’m not going over it again.

Yeah, problem’s still here. Don’t give me that face. I don’t want your pity. I want your help. I want to make a bargain. I saw a lady-shrink the other day and I couldn’t even make sexually-based doctor jokes around her, you could just see the disappointment written on her face. I mean here comes this guy, this legend, this colossus of orgasms, and he can’t even bother to sexually harass her. I understand where she’s coming from. Anyway, she told me about these five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) and I’m trying to get through them as quickly as possible.

I’ve tried ignoring my problem. I just sat in front of The Tudors, masturbating as usual and nothing happened. Not even when I saw Boleyn’s boobs. Bastard.

I tried yelling at it. I called it lazy and fat and that it never did anyone any good. But I think it knew I was lying, because the record will show, will it ever show, that that is a blatant falsehood.

I tried to make a deal with him. Said that if he’d co-operate I’d by him some nice outfits and bring him to the best cheerleading practice he ever saw. I even asked him if It was firemen now. If he’d turned from the girls, he just sat there all floopy.

And then — yes, I’ll admit it — I cried. It wasn’t manly, it was a siren, and attracted the attention of everyone in the Second Cup.

Nothing has worked so far. So now I’m turning to you, reader, with that bargaining thing: what can you do for me? If you can help me I swear to god I will make it worth it. I mean, the owe-you sex alone will be heavenly.

So, please. Help me.

Yours in desperation,
Dr. Smoothmoves

Presenting the Mistress Rules

All right babies, this week is going to be written a bit differently; there will not be any questions answered, but instead I’m going to have a little chat about a subject that has been bothering me for some time now. I don’t know if you’ve heard about the recent scandal with my dear, dear Michael Buble — I hear those snickers, honeys, but I love him. Who doesn’t love a tall, soulful, rat pack-esque love muffin? Well, his “on-the-road” girlfriend recently posted a little naked photo of him, most likely due to her jealousness of his actual girlfriend coupled with her need for fame. This topic comes up again and again, and I get flooded with questions from poor people in the situation of being “the other.” Frankly, I’m sick of hearing about it, no offence. To alleviate any confusion of my thoughts on the subject, I am writing Goldie’s Mistress Rules, please take note, these apply to all sexes/genders.

1. You are the other person — stop trying to pretend it’s going to go somewhere. Seriously, we all hear those urban myths about so-and-so’s friend who was the other woman and he left his wife to be with her. These stories are few and far between. So stop dreaming and just enjoy what you do have, which is an attentive partner while you are together.
2. You can love them, but you can’t own them. They are not “yours.” They are a lover of yours — but not yours alone, so don’t expect them to act like they are.
3. They cannot see you all the time. They have a partner that they are committed to; they have a life outside of you. I suggest you get a life outside of them as well, which maybe involves other dates. You can’t put all your eggs in this basket (see point number 1).
4. You cannot rat them out. This is an absolute no-no. It’s not your business what they are doing to their other partner; you have no right to get involved there. And don’t play the victim; you know what you got yourself into. This brings me to the final point.
5. Except your situation. You chose it, after all. You knew what you were getting into, and even if you didn’t, you chose to stay after the truth came out. It’s up to you to respect yourself, if you are uncomfortable then get out, if not then you have to respect the boundaries of this relationship.

I hope this helps the heartache my darlings. Just remember, relationships come in all shapes and sizes. You must be involved with making the rules for yours, but you have to abide by the ones your partner sets out as well, or get the hell out of dodge if you don’t like it.

Goldie braves the subject of bi-curious friend action. Dear Mz. Richard:
I have a sexy problem. I have recently discovered a bi-curious nature within me, and I feel the need to explore it more. Now, the problem arises in that it is really only directed at one woman in particular, who is one of my best friends. I really want to make out with her, but I don’t know how she would react.

We are both fairly experimental and open with sexuality, but have never bridged the gap of bisexuality. And the other thing is, I just want some fun, not a relationship. Ideally we would just go back to being friends after. Is there a way to do this?

Horny For My Girl

Dear HFMG:
Well, this is a sexy problem. Oh mama, is it ever. I would venture to say it’s not really a problem, but more of a challenge. Unfortunately, I think you will have to approach this one like a man. You will have to use some trickery, and a well-tested technique of our dear Dr. Smoothmoves. Get her drunk.

This is the only way. I do not recommend just bringing this up over some girl talk, it will explode in your face faster than an 18-year-old freshman. Now, you have two choices, private drunken time, which may lead to more feelings than you’re willing to deal with, or do it at a party. Girl kissing is par for the course at parties these days it seems, and the hoots and hollers from the gentlemen in the room may ease her into it more.

Now, you know I would never, ever suggest tricking a woman, but in this case, it is a safe way of doing it. Just drunkenly scream, “Let’s make out,” then grab and kiss her. You will know right away if she’s into it or not, and if not she’ll be so loaded you can blame it on the gin. But if she is into it, then the possibilities are endless. I wouldn’t try going further than a little make-out the first time; it may lead to messiness in the morning. But if the make-out goes over well in her drunken state, then you can have a sober conversation or move it to private drunken time, and try to push the boundaries a bit more.

Now, as for the friendship part, I do recommend a little chat about what happened in a day or so, you can’t just let it go. You need to ask her how she felt about it, and if she was having fun then great, if not, you need to let it lie and apologize for your behavior, explaining you just had a weird urge to kiss her, it won’t happen again, blah, blah. But I hope for your sexy self that she is into it! Good luck hotness!

Until next time honeys, keep it drunken, keep it fuzzy.

Prescribing: What the Fuck?

You might have noticed another four-week gap between this column and the last one, loyal reader. And just after I promised it wasn’t going to happen. I’m sorry. But I couldn’t do it. I don’t know what came over me — no, not like that. I’m aware of how that works.

Readers, Undergraduate Smoothmoves can’t get his thesis up. It’s like I’m a wind sock down there, a sad flag, a big floppy non-boner. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been giving advice so long that I have no idea how to take it — again, not like that. I’m aware of how that works.

So what the hell, word viewer? This doesn’t happen to me. It just doesn’t happen. I’m an all-star in post season — but I’ve never had an off season. I — I can’t talk about this anymore. Let’s get to a question.

Dear Dr. Smoothmoves,
I was wondering what you’d recommend for a chunky girl and guy to get up to. We’re not that big. We don’t need to lift bellies up and over to have sex, but there is some shifting. I was thinking about exotic places you might recommend where we might not get caught, considering our longer-than-average start up time. Oh, and maybe some positions and stuff like that.

I’d be so grateful for you help, and so would my beary bear.
Queen Cub

Dear Cub,
What does it matter? Were you even listening to me? How can you be thinking of sex at a time when I can’t have any? That’s really unfair. I give you people a lot. I’ve covered so many of you in my white hot love — we even called it a CAP-puccino when it was all in your hair — and this is how you re-pay me?

Sometimes I have needs, but none of you seem to understand that. Maybe I want to cuddle afterwards sometimes. Maybe, sometimes, I wish I didn’t have that jet pack to make my escape that much easier. Maybe I wish it was harder to get so many girls and that you weren’t so easy. Maybe you could talk about your feelings and not about how I made you feel. I know I’m awesome — I’m Doctor fucking Smoothmoves.

Chirst, almighty. I —

Look I have to go, I’ll see you in a bit.
Dr. Smoothmoves

Mz. Goldie tells the men to stick it on certain issues.

Dear Goldie:
My guy keeps bugging me to remove the hair on my box. He says he prefers the clean look; he especially loves it when it is totally bare. I’m just not into it, I’m an all-natural type of girl, and frankly, having no hair down there makes me feel like I’m a 12 year old. It’s creepy. How do I handle this, he says he can’t go down on me if I won’t do it.

Hairy in Hanover

Dear HH:
Well, Mr. Man seems to think he has more authority over things than you have given him. Listen love, I don’t want to get all feminist on you, but it’s your body. The only argument I have for taking the hair off is that it does help in the pleasure department. Having a smooth surface is easier to work with and to find things in, not saying your man needs help finding things, except his manners in this case! I have a question: Does he shave his, and would he be willing to if you did? Turn the tables on him and see if he likes it. And on this withholding favours thing, that is just pure manipulation, which Mama does not approve of! You tell him honey, if he’s not going down on your beautiful bush, then he ain’t getting anything either! I mean really, trimming is essential, I will agree with him on that, but if you’re not comfortable with something, then no one is going to be having a good time.

Dear Goldie:
The other night I was coming over to surprise my girlfriend with a visit, and I caught her on the phone with one of her girlfriends telling her everything about our lovemaking the other night. I couldn’t believe it, I mean, I knew she talked to them about our fights and stuff, but sex? Does she have to tell them everything?

Gossiped About

Dear GA:
Yes. That is my final answer. I’m sorry honey, but there are union rules, and her girlfriends will know everything about you. Everything. We talk, and we talk about sex a lot (even more than you do, because we go into a lot of detail) and how it made us feel. And we can discuss the tiny details of how you kissed us for hours. It’s just one of those things about women. Now, if it is really bothering you, you can ask her to not talk about certain things, explain that you are more of a private person than her, but it might not change. I really can’t explain it more than this, we just NEED to tell each other stuff, it’s in the DNA. If it bugs you, maybe date men for a while. Was that too harsh? Mama’s feeling cranky this week, not enough play.

Until next time honeys, be on the lookout for your winter cuddle-up, it’s getting cold out there!

Mz. Goldie takes us into the world of self-love.

Dear Mz. Goldie Richard:
I am a 27 year old woman, and in my years I have had a good collection of lovers, including two serious boyfriends, lasting for longer than a year each. However, I have never had an orgasm, never. I have come close, but haven’t ever gotten there. I do admit, with some guys I have faked it, because it is easier than explaining that I just don’t get there. But where it is really frustrating is when I am in a serious relationship, because it is very discouraging for both of us. Is there any hope for me Goldie?

O-less

Dear O-less:
Darling! There is always hope! Please, please, never give up on an orgasm! The female body is a complicated one, granted, but I have always believed, if you can find the right way to rub it, it will go. So, below I am listing my must do’s for achieving orgasm, there are just a few essentials, don’t worry.

1. Get to know yourself, on the inside, I’m talking about three inches in honey, yes, let’s talk masturbation. Hon, it’s time to stop denying the fact that you carry most of the responsibility to getting yourself off. How are you ever going to let a partner know what you like if you don’t know your body inside and out? Come on, it’s not dirty or wrong like you may have been told your whole life. Just stick some fingers down there, and see what happens, and do it often. At first it will be the same, maybe no action, but after a while you will discover the beautiful, special and different things about your body that will help to get you off. I also recommend reading up on some sex books; there are great ones out there for women on how to understand our bodies. The most important thing is to listen to yourself, and go with your instincts on what feels good. Also, don’t be afraid of the fantasies that come to mind. You never know, you may find a delicious role-play for you and your partner to try.

2. SHAME. This is the one that breaks my heart. There are millions and millions of women walking around out there, thinking that their bodies are dirty, or ugly and something to be ashamed of, and that they don’t deserve to have an orgasm. Now this is on a subconscious level most of the time, but if you search deep down, you will most likely find that there is a past experience or person that made you feel this way. Try to discover this. It may be a bit painful, but it will help you in the long run. Once you have it, get it out of there. This may sound cheesy, but you need to tell yourself everyday that you DESERVE that orgasm and no one is going to stop you from getting it. You see, if you have that all pent up, it will keep you from relaxing into the moment, into letting go and reaching climax. This is most likely your problem, whether you know it or not.

3. Communicate. After you have yourself down, and what you like and can get you off, it is time to start telling all those secrets to your partners. Come on honey, even if he’s the best lover on the planet, he is not going to know everything on the first try. You may be nervous or embarrassed, but you will find that most men are open to a little tip here and there, and even find it sexy!

I hope this helps. Happy orgasm!!!!!

People have often asked me how I go about writing these columns. Young writers come up to me and ask about the craft of writing and how I’m able to juggle my writing duties while jiggling a squad of cheerleaders. I’ll answer this question more over the coming weeks but first I’ll talk about the process of selecting questions.

Most weeks, I’ll write in my den. I turn on a few soft lights, fire up the lava lamp, and sit in my favourite thinking chair. Next to the chair there is an end table. On the end table there is a ruler. I unzip my pants and pull out my love hammer. As I read the letters I’ve received that week I’ll measure myself and based on the reaction I select which questions I’ll answer. Whichever yields the greatest response — either way — I’ll select that one.

I typically don’t answer a question unless it registers at least an eleven on the Smoothmoves Scale, because at that point it will either be gross or hot and I know that’s why you degenerates are here. Nevertheless, if a question rates above a sixteen on The Scale I will often disregard it for the sake of safety, as I’ve already got too many spinal injuries on my conscience already.

This question, however, just confused me. And that’s why I’ve included it.

Dear Dr. Smoothmoves,
There’s this guy and I like him just the way he is. We go on drives and we talk one on one, but around everyone else he acts like someone else. He’s trying to be cool. But he looks like a fool to me.

Like, the other day he came over unannounced, dressed up like someone else. He was striking posses in these crappy clothes. But he’s not fooling me. What I don’t get is why he seems so angry. Like, chill out, whatcha yellin’ for? Seriously, it’s all been done before.

I just don’t know why he’s making this so complicated. It just makes me frustrated.

AL

P.S. Promise me I’ll never find you faking, Dr. Smoothmoves.

Dear AL,
There is nothing complicated about this situation: he just doesn’t like you. He’s actually himself around other people and is just faking it to get in your pants. That’s pretty obvious to everyone.

So stop whining and get over it. Maybe get married to a boy from Scarborough. I don’t know why that last part would help, I just have a feeling.

Dr. Smoothmoves

Mz. Goldie Takes us into Fall

Hello my darlings! Well, it’s happened: the colors are changing, the leaves are falling, you need to cover up a bit more, and the streets are filled with the sweet scent of virgins and sweaty frat boys. Ah fall, how we have missed you! Speaking of change, our first letter comes from a man who wants to spice it up like Thanksgiving pumpkin pie!

Dear Goldie:
Me and my lady have been going together for about six months now, and it’s great. I love everything about the sex, except we always do the same things. I’m wondering, what is the best way to bring something new into the relationship without insulting her or scaring her off?

Wanting Something New

Dear WSN:
A common problem sweetheart, we’ve all been there! Now, if your lady is a bit sensitive, you have to broach the subject with the greatest of ease, like with more lube than you need during anal, but in this case, the lube is complements.

You need to start by telling her how much you love the sex, how sexy she is, how awesome her (insert her best move here) is. Then when she’s more buttered up than corn on the BBQ, you gently say, you know what I’ve been fantasizing about or, you know what I’d find really hot, or, I think you would look super sexy in X position.

Now, here is the most important part, you have to look and listen carefully, read her signs, if she seems at all upset you need to abort the mission and go back to the compliments. But, if she’s ok, then you ask her if there is anything she wants to try, that way she feels a part of the process, a partnership if you will, trust me, us women love that shit. If she’s totally opposed, give it at least another month and try again.

If you can’t wait, then you can try the more tricky, bringing it up during sex move. However, be warned this could lead to disaster, because if she feels insulted during the act, you ain’t getting laid for weeks my darlin’, so tread lightly. Good luck baby!

Dear Mz. Richard:
I have a problem; I have recently gotten tested for STD’s because an old fuck buddy of mine called to say she got something. I haven’t gotten the results back yet, but I think I’ll be ok. The question here is, should I tell my new girlfriend before I get them back, or just wait to see if there is a problem? Is this breaking the trust of her?

Trustworthy in Toronto

Dear Trusty:
Oh dear, oh dear. This is a tough call. One part of me wants to say; no don’t put her through the heartache of hearing all about your slutty past, if there is no problem, then why bother. But the other part is saying I would want to know.

If I know one thing about women, it’s that we want to know everything about you, even if it hurts. She would want to know that this was going on, that she might be at risk, but more importantly that you might be. Also, this is a good time to bring up the fact that you should be getting tested regularly anyway, and maybe you both could go together, I mean if you haven’t had the STD talk yet and you’ve been sticking it in her for a while, now is the time baby.

I say tell her. She might get mad, but you can always throw the “well, I thought it better for you to know than keep it from you” line. That’ll settle her down. I’m prayin’ for you sweety.

Until next time honeys keep it sexy AND SAFE!