We’ve got a secret surprise hiding under our covers this year. The Hatchet will bring you an anonymous columnist, Delilah, to report on sex at GW.
Editor’s note: Names have been changed to protect the naughty.
One of my favorite things about going home for Christmas is getting to catch up with my Aunt “Gems”. Aunt Gems always likes to exchange stories about work, school, the latest Sylvia Brown book and, of course, men.
As we sat on bar stools in my uncle’s kitchen and guzzled down some more champagne and ate artichoke dip, we got on to the topic of what dating was like when my Aunt Gems was a 20-something during the late 1950s, early 1960s.
As Aunt Gems describes it, “a girl never asked a guy out on a date unless it was the Sadie Hawkins dance, and the boy always did the calling, and if he wanted to go steady with you he would give you his class ring or his letterman jacket. And a boy always made the first move.”
Listening to Aunt Gems recall her dating scene, I was relieved to be a 20-something in 2008 rather than 1958 – otherwise I would probably be sitting at home waiting for some handsome man to call – not writing a column about sex.
Times have certainly changed since Aunt Gems last wore a boy’s letterman jacket. Even when I was in high school, I did all the asking, whether it was to a homecoming dance, a movie or to a game of “feel me up” in my parent’s basement. For as long as I have had raging hormones, I have pursued men with the same fervor I put towards my academics, an internship or a really cute handbag.
My inclination to take the lead came out one Saturday night at GW when I laid my eyes on a tall blond frat boy who had his eyes decidedly fixed on a baseball game. As I came over and sat down next to him I casually introduced myself. Luckily for me he was not too attached to the TV screen to give me a second look. After a bit of chatting and a few drinks later, he asked me to look him up on Facebook.
A week or two passed and I finally asked Frat Boy to meet up with me. After a few cordial late night visits I was hoping for a hook up. One night he came over – our cover activity was mixed drinks with a side of “Borat” – but once my roommates settled into bed, he began to kiss me as we sat there on the couch with the TV still blaring in the background.
Just when it started to get hotter, I decided to do what I do best and take the lead. I began by whispering in his ear to follow me into my room and then pinned him against the wall and told him all the naughty things I was going to do to him. A few moments after I had begun to give him some pleasure, Frat Boy suddenly insisted that he had to leave. Not making anything of it, I kissed him goodbye and patted myself on the back for getting Frat Boy all hot and bothered.
Five days later I had heard nothing from Frat Boy, which left me feeling confused. I decided I needed to confront Frat Boy myself with an instant message.
“Hey, Frat Boy, it’s Delilah. So I noticed you haven’t returned my calls and texts, and it’s okay if you’re not interested, but I think I deserve an explanation for why you have been avoiding me.”
Moments later Frat Boy responded, “Ugh, sorry about that, Delilah, it’s just that the last time we hung out, I felt like you were tying to physically harm me or beat me up.”
I was confused, yet at the same time amused. Did Frat Boy really think I was trying to beat him up? The last time I checked undoing a guy’s belt buckle and telling him that he was “gonna get it” was by no means grounds for accusing me of abuse!
After a few laughs and a bit of shock, I realized that Frat Boy’s accusations were not so much about assault as about intimidation.
When women take the lead or step out of traditional roles, men seem to shake in their boots (Hillary Clinton ring a bell?). Now that boys do not have to make the first move, I cannot help but thinking that men find themselves a little frightened by vibrators, Brazilian waxes and women who take the lead in the bedroom.
Aunt Gems’ days of dating are long gone and Frat Boy’s unease is no reason for me to back down. Any man that thinks I am too ambitious is no man for me.
