Getting Your Rocks Off?
August 1, 2011 § 11 Comments
It’s amazing how many people want to know the answer to this question. A plankton’s sex life is, it seems, the public has a right to know.
The questions, astonishingly, come virtually every day and in a number of guises. Girlfriends I haven’t seen for a while are tactful. They say things like, “Have you had any interests of any sort? Even so much as a kiss?” I don’t mind on the whole and give it to them straight. They are my friends, after all. There are only one or two who are consistently smug and/or patronising, so with them I purposefully give nothing away. Most of my men friends are discrete and leave me to tell them anything I want to, if I want to. Occasionally they might ask, delicately, and that’s all right. But the odd one can flail me.
“So, are you getting your rocks off with anyone at the moment, matey?” asked the husband of a friend of mine recently. That puts him in a piss-poor light though in fact I am very fond of him. It’s just he has his moments of staggering insensitivity.
My thirty or so posts so far attest to the fact, I hope, that I am far from a prude, but I fear I hate it when faced with the question put like that. At best, days I am feeling strong, I can take it in relatively good humour and whip back that my life is shagtastic, thank you very much, though frankly what business is it of yours, you complete bollocks? On vulnerable days, it feels intrusive and demeaning in the extreme and I want to tell them roundly to fuck off but the humiliation is overwhelming and has me (uncharacteristically) lost for words.
My godmother got it right on the phone the other night. She said, “Have you had any twinkles?”
I knew exactly what she meant. OK, so it sounds very Clinton Cards but, still, I thought that was a great way of putting it. It’s gentle and, if deeply corny, accurate: precisely what I have indeed had so far – men in the near distance or far, most of whom do just that, twinkle, either brightly or less so – then dim.
At any one time there may be two, even three. And I try to remember, despite it being the crappiest fucking cliche going, it only takes one to turn into a star.