Whilst in my usual watering hole, I was let in on a little known secret about women. This, unlike many other secrets, disturbed me. Apparently, there’s a game that some (oh, for the love of Christ, please don’t make it “many”) women get hours of amusement from. Can’t they just play quarters or beer pong like my brothers and me?
“OK, Philly, ready for this?”
“No, but proceed.”
“We ladies imagine we're given a mandate to have sex with one man at the bar right now or he’ll slaughter our families.”
“What the fuck are you drinking?”
“Seriously, it’s fun! Then we scan the bar and decide. We keep it to ourselves, though, and then the best part …”
“… which, I hope includes more wet spots than blood spatter.”
“Of course, it does, silly. We all try to guess whom each of us picked.”
“Couldn’t the game be just as effective without the slaughter of loved ones? I mean, how about ‘We have to make love with one man at the bar, or we’ll be forced to chew tobacco’?”
“It’s our game—we play it our way.”
“All right. By the way, was I selected by anyone as murderer turned mercy fuck?”
“Damn it! Must be the holey jeans.”
“Well, why don’t you play too? Imagine that you must have sex with one woman here …”
“Stop right there. Every woman in here qualifies, although my genitals may not cooperate with some.”
“Oh, that’s right—men don’t need to be threatened to have sex.”
This is an awful game. Around ten years ago, a few office buds and I played a similar game inspired by Howard Stern called fuck/marry/kill, where we had to select one woman for each. At least two-thirds of it didn’t involve a capital offense. Jeesh!
To prevent this twisted game from spreading, please allow me to make some minor modifications. How about a game where you have to pick one man to go down on you, one to blow, and one to have full penetration with? Too many men, huh? Fine. Let’s stick with the original concept, but replace the killing part with:
· Walk around a crowded club for thirty minutes with the back of your skirt tucked inside your panties.
· Attend a live pro wrestling event.
· Spend an entire day without your cell phone.
· Tongue kiss a man with a toupee.
· Drink six ounces of cheap scotch.
· Flash your boobs on the big screen at a large arena.
· Give that smelly guy from I.T. five free personal trainer sessions.
· Go to karaoke and sing Barney’s “I Love You” song while touching yourself.
· At a crowded family restaurant, order a pickle and give a public presentation on the proper method of performing fellatio.
· Replace your Facebook profile picture for a day with one taken upon waking Sunday morning before you have a chance to put on a face and fix your hair.
There. See that? No bloody mess required. If this ruins the game, you need to be going to bars that have fewer ugly men.