How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Fist

Last night he sees me in the dining hall and asks if I want to go downtown to hang out and I say sure.

So we get there and then it turns out he wanted to go to this dildo store downtown to watch these girls enact “a scene”. So I’m like, “you mean they’re going to fuck in front of us?” And he’s all “no, it’s going to be like, ‘pick up that letter with your teeth’, ‘yes, mistress’, that kind of thing, it’ll be kinky.”

And I’m like, I’m sorry bro, I’m outie. And he didn’t get mad at me or anything but who takes a veritable stranger to a dildo store? Who just assumes that everyone in the world is going to be okay with watching master/slave kink roleplay unless explicitly told otherwise?

Why does this shit always happen to me?

PS

You know how you call older people (non-relatives) “Aunt X” and “Uncle Y” when they’re too close to you/your family for honorifics?

Or when you see these erotic master/slave narratives that, rather than just being honest with themselves about being distasteful porn, pretend to be all romantic and uplifting and social justice-y for one bullshit reason or another and it ends up being both offensive and unintentionally hilarious.

I’m gonna stop fighting it and major in math after all.

Sure

why not