The Over-share

Dating-related things your big sister might not want to hear about:

The size of your boyfriend’s penis. Especially if he’s a disgusting loser-asshole.

How great of head your boyfriend gives. Especially if, in addition to being a disgusting loser-asshole, he is the dickwad, unemployed father of your beautiful daughter.

The time when you and your loser boyfriend were on a break, and you spent the weekend at mom and dad’s, using their computer after they went to bed to find guys on Craigslist, walk to the bar to meet them, hump them (god knows where, thanks for leaving out that detail), and then walk back to mom and dad’s house to go to bed before they got up.

You and your disgusting loser-asshole boyfriend’s forays into anal and how much it hurt. Especially if your loser-asshole boyfriend has long, greasy hair and a thin goatee. And he shows up to Christmas in sweatpants two sizes too big with holes in the ass.

The time you gave head to my best friend’s brother. I totally had the hots for him.

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He's No Cull

**Editors' Note: Today's guest post hails from Lisa S. about the first time her parents met her new boyfriend.**

Mom really wanted to meet my new squeeze, so we made plans to do a dinner together. Mom was nervous, and maybe I was a little, too. I wanted to keep it mellow and casual, so I suggested burgers and beers. There’s one spot my mom and I have been going to for years, it’s out in the country a bit, and they have delicious greasy burgers and crunchy, flavorful onion rings. That’s what I suggested. But mom wanted to invite a friend, whom I love, and friend had gotten sick at Delicious and Greasy before, so we went to the local pub. The local pub, which smells super bad. Like toilets, now that you can’t smoke in there and the cigarette smell’s not covering up the toilet smell.

But whatever. Squeeze and I have been to dives before, and we will go to many dives in the future. But here’s what was really charming: When we showed up at my mom’s place at 4 p.m., she was already working on a cocktail. OK, whatever. We all went down to the pub after mom finished what was at least cocktail #3, and we all ordered a round. When mom’s drink was set down in front of her, she took one sip and said, “Nope. This is no good. Bring me a double.” OK, whatever. I like a good drink, too, and sometimes I want to tie one on, too.

But here’s the really, really nice part: As soon as we order food, mom goes over to the ATM, pulls out some cash, and then plunks down in front of a video poker machine. Sure, when the burgers come, she comes over to eat, and yes, she’s being very nice to squeeze, but as soon as food’s gone, it’s another cocktail and back to the video poker machine.

Finally, I shouted at her from across the bar, “Mom, we’re tired of watching you play video poker, we’re out.” She seemed disappointed.

Later, she drunk-dialed me and told me how much they liked the squeeze. Not sure how they knew that they did, but OK. Whatever.

Here’s one more reason I know he’s awesome, though: Took it all in stride. No judgment, no complaints. Just shrugged it off and said, genuinely, how nice she seemed. He’s certainly no cull.

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Things I learned the hard way

- Taking relationships slow is rarely regrettable. OK, there was that one time that you took things slow and the potential love of your life got hit by a car before you got a chance to see where things were going, but other than that? Draw out twitterpation. It's good for the soul.

- Just because your mom wants you to ask your boyfriend to be in the family Olan Mills photos she's scheduling doesn't mean you should ask him.

- If you're going to plan a vacation to Mexico with a new boyfriend and his family, be sure you're comfortable enough to ask them if you can stop at the store for some anti-diarrheal medication. You also might want to be sure you can handle a surf-related wardrobe malfunction in front of his dad. Especially if you're not so good at ducking waves (Note to non-Pacific NW readers: People from Oregon don't usually swim in the Ocean, it's too effing cold. So that whole counter-intuitive dive into the wave to avoid getting smashed by it thing? Some of us missed that lesson.)

C'mon readers. What did you learn the hard way?

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Messy First Impressions

I met my steady beau's parents for the first time over the holidays this year. Everything was great. They loved me, I loved them, presents were exchanged, etc.

So I was feeling pretty solid when a few days into the visit, beau and I have sex in the spare bedroom. I'm on my period, so we put a towel down. At one point in the whole romp I feel a bit more wetness than normal but I think whatever, there's a towel..

Oops.

When we're done doing the deed, I get up to examine the towel and sheets. And there are three bright red spots on the top sheet. Three more bright red spots on the under sheet. And three more bright red spots on the down comforter thinger on top of the mattress. Thankfully there weren't any on the actual mattress.

Mortified. Absolutely mortified at not only the three bright red spots but also the fact that beau has to tell his mother that I started my period and had an accident. (No fucking way are we telling her what it was actually from.)

I can overhear their conversation, in which he actually says "______ had her period last night and it got on the sheets. She's mortified." and somehow the level of embarrassment increases ten-fold.

Beau's mom handles it like a champ. She's nice and says its no big deal, gives me a hug and sends us on our way for the day. When we return, the sheets are all clean with no sign of last night's mess.

Ok, great. No problem. Handled that. But then the next morning, I wake up to find black spots all over the pillow case.

My fucking hair dye from three weeks ago stained the pillow case. I had gone to bed with my hair wet and apparently there was still dye left all these weeks later.

Fucking hell. No way am I taking the fall on this one so I insist that beau take responsibility and say it's his dirty working man's hands that caused the spots.

Whether or not beau's mother believed him, I wasn't around to find out.

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Dear Serial: Is this legal?

Dear Serial,

I attended my cousin's wedding. Yes, the reception was open bar. There was a guy there and... truth be told, I knew he was on the Bride's side too because he managed to sit next to me at the wedding proper. We exchanged pleasantries and photos of the wedding.

Later, we ended up running away from the celebration and mindlessly making out on streetcorners throughout downtown Major Midwestern City. We have since done the other rather more naked things that people tend to do.

He is my father's brother's widow's great-nephew. There is no real blood connection so we think we might be okay (despite the fact that we are both the black sheep of our families). Oh, yeah, and I don't really look my age and he's 12 years younger than me. Still, is this illegal? He's 23... so it's probably legal in most states.

Help me,
"Sophia"

Dear Sophia,

I had to draw a picture to get this one straight in my head.



OK, so I'm not really great at drawing family trees (And I totally gave him Justin Beiber hair). Basically, it looks like while you guys are of the same generation. I'd go so far as to say you're family, but I'm not pulling the incest card. I googled family relationships and looked at some charts written by people who understand this shit, and I don't think you're actually any kind of cousin, not even a cousin 14 times removed.

As for the age, yes. You're cool.

So, legally, we're all good.

The real question is whether it's OK, morally. And I say, yes. Not only is it OK, morally speaking, but it's pretty hot. Forbidden fruit, but without the yucky concerns of arrest or babies with arms growing out of their foreheads.

Fact is, people are supposed to hook up at weddings. That's what weddings are for. It's not about the couple. Weddings exist for the purpose of making old ladies cry, giving people the opportunity to dress up, and giving all of us an excuse to get wasted and get laid. Even if you're humping a way younger, almost-relative. Or, maybe especially if you're humping a way younger, almost-relative.

Rowr.

Love,

Serial



Got a question for Serial Monogamist? Oh, sure you do. Send them to seriallymonogamous[at]gmail[dot]com

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The mess in the living room

I recently realized something. A little blip of recognition.

If you're a breeder: Between your parents' house, your dorm, your roommates, and then kids of your own, a retirement community, maybe a nursing home ... there are very few -- precious few -- years when you can wake up on a Sunday morning and stagger out to your living room to find you'd left a pile of underwear on the floor, empty bottles stacked up on bookshelves, and lube and toys on the coffee table. Enjoy them.

I know I plan to.

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Am I crazy or is he creepy?

I can't tell. I was just sitting there, minding my business late in the week, trying very hard not to beat my head against my keyboard, when an IM popped up on my screen.

He says:
Hey! Whatre you doing?

She says:
whipping some stuff out before I get out of here
and then tomorrow's FRIDAY

He says:
Yes it is!!! WOO HOO!!!!
big plans this holiday wekend?

She says:
Oh yeah
gardening
cleaning my floors
big stuff
Actually I might spend a night in a cabin on the Waccamaw
and do some kayaking
so that'll be good
Oh, you know, and being pious, of course
You?

He says:
LOL>...of course!!!
well...I cleaned floors last weekend so thais done...YEAH!!!
a little golf Frdiay and Saturday mongings...

She says:
Oh nice

He says:
and I do have to clean out the garage one day...BOOOOO

She says:
I hate chores

He says:
me too...

She says:
Why did I think they'd go away when I grew up?
I think I need to have kids. Make them start doing some dishes.

He says:
they just get more and more and more

She says:
srrsly

He says:
we need FUN in our life...hhhmmmmm

This is where I start to feel squeamish. I mean, OK. I like fun. But that long "hhhmmmmmm" felt like a hot breath across a phone line, right? That's not fun. It certainly ain't sexy. So I tried to keep it light and jokey. I figure, can't we all agree that work sucks, eh? Eh?

She says:
Oh, what, like work isn't FUN for you?
It doesn't bring you enough JOYJOYJOY?

He says:
there you go again..scarcasim...I LOVE IT!

She says:
I just can't help it
I'm glad someone around here appreciates it

He says:
I do...let it FLY!!!

She says:
ha
I still have to figure out different types of humor.
Not everyone thinks I'm hilarious, apparently.

He says:
i find you hilarous and interesting...

I don't want bald, married guys my dad's age to find me interesting. Especially if they can't spell for shit. Again, I retort with a joke.

She says:
Me, too!
That's why we get along

There's a pause, so I think it's over. Oh, no.

He says:
so.,...
tell me something unique

Um, what? Is this how old people flirt? Is he that bored? I hardly know this guy. He works in a different building. (I think his WIFE works in my building though.) Are we all of a sudden on Match.com? I play it safe by playing stupid.

She says:
??

He says:
lol
see...you haven't figured me out yet...I am haviong a tought ime with an outage over here and thoiught I would settle my stress by being silly wiht you
sorry

She says:
ahhhhh
I'm slow sometimes

He says:
not a problem...

OK, DIW. What is this? Am I being paranoid? Is he just so well-meaning and innocent and I'm the one projecting? Should I avoid this guy?

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