Johnson, You've Got to Get Your Numbers Up
This past Sunday my best friend Anna went on a date. The next day, when I saw her, she seemed a little depressed. "Rachael, I didn't sleep with him." I explained that was completely fine as it was only their first date. "No, you don't get it," Anna protested "I had to sleep with him."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because he would've been number 17 and then I'd be done. That'd be it. Then the I could have a relationship."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I pestered.
"I didn't find him attractive. I couldn't bring myself to hug him good-bye never mind have sex with him. I'm such a failure." Anna put her head in her hands and began to sob. I rubbed her back trying to comfort her, but I had no idea what was going on in that head of hers. I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth and these words fell out, "Do you want a chipwich?" Anna didn't answer, she blew her nose. We were silent for like 6 minutes and all I could think about was the chipwich. I started getting irritated. Why should her nutzo behaviour interfere with my snacking? I guess she could sense my restlessness beacause she finally began to speak. I might be paraphrasing as I was only half listening as I daydreamed about icecream between two cookies surrounded by chocolate chips.
"See, Rachael, a bunch of years ago I casually dated a not so young man. I hadn't had many sexual partners at the time and was unsure of myself sexually. And my sexual doubt was like an albatross and I was like the Ancient Mariner. The Mariner had this uncontrollable urge to tell the story of how he shot the albatross to every person he encountered. Well, back in those days I too felt compelled to tell everyone of how few people I had had sex with. This man I dated casually, asked me how many people do I think I should have had sex with. I told him 17 people. So now I have to have sex with 17 people. I'm up to 16 people! Where's my 17th?
"What happens after number 17?"
"I then can have reciprocal loving monogomous happy romantic relationship."
"No."
"Yes, I put that number out into the universe so now the universe has made it so. Just like when I was dating Graham, who I LOVED!!!, but felt like he should meet a girl who he's more comfortable with. I said that out loud to your friend Kerisa, and the next thing you know he's marrying some woman he's more comfortable with. Or the time I flipped out infront of you and your friend Jesse and exclaimed how I wanted to redate somebody. And then I did. So now I have to sleep with a 17th person because I said."
"Anna, the world doesn't work like that. You can't just say what you want and then you get it. Otherwise we'd all be millionares."
"Of course. But if you say it earnestly without thinking it might come true. Without asking for it to come true, it fucking comes true. Even if later on you don't want it to come true."
"Did you ever think that maybe you can't find a dude to sleep with because you're not ready to commit to someone."
"Oh look who woke-up and started channelling Dr. Phil."
"Me? You're the one screaming and making no sense."
"Ahh, just go get your chipwhich. I need to find a non-repulsive #17."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because he would've been number 17 and then I'd be done. That'd be it. Then the I could have a relationship."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I pestered.
"I didn't find him attractive. I couldn't bring myself to hug him good-bye never mind have sex with him. I'm such a failure." Anna put her head in her hands and began to sob. I rubbed her back trying to comfort her, but I had no idea what was going on in that head of hers. I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth and these words fell out, "Do you want a chipwich?" Anna didn't answer, she blew her nose. We were silent for like 6 minutes and all I could think about was the chipwich. I started getting irritated. Why should her nutzo behaviour interfere with my snacking? I guess she could sense my restlessness beacause she finally began to speak. I might be paraphrasing as I was only half listening as I daydreamed about icecream between two cookies surrounded by chocolate chips.
"See, Rachael, a bunch of years ago I casually dated a not so young man. I hadn't had many sexual partners at the time and was unsure of myself sexually. And my sexual doubt was like an albatross and I was like the Ancient Mariner. The Mariner had this uncontrollable urge to tell the story of how he shot the albatross to every person he encountered. Well, back in those days I too felt compelled to tell everyone of how few people I had had sex with. This man I dated casually, asked me how many people do I think I should have had sex with. I told him 17 people. So now I have to have sex with 17 people. I'm up to 16 people! Where's my 17th?
"What happens after number 17?"
"I then can have reciprocal loving monogomous happy romantic relationship."
"No."
"Yes, I put that number out into the universe so now the universe has made it so. Just like when I was dating Graham, who I LOVED!!!, but felt like he should meet a girl who he's more comfortable with. I said that out loud to your friend Kerisa, and the next thing you know he's marrying some woman he's more comfortable with. Or the time I flipped out infront of you and your friend Jesse and exclaimed how I wanted to redate somebody. And then I did. So now I have to sleep with a 17th person because I said."
"Anna, the world doesn't work like that. You can't just say what you want and then you get it. Otherwise we'd all be millionares."
"Of course. But if you say it earnestly without thinking it might come true. Without asking for it to come true, it fucking comes true. Even if later on you don't want it to come true."
"Did you ever think that maybe you can't find a dude to sleep with because you're not ready to commit to someone."
"Oh look who woke-up and started channelling Dr. Phil."
"Me? You're the one screaming and making no sense."
"Ahh, just go get your chipwhich. I need to find a non-repulsive #17."
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