Thursday, October 27, 2005
For the most part, I have made it a practice not to lust after my younger siblings’ friends.
This may not sound like such a grand resolution, but you all know that I lust after everything and anything: boobies (and flesh in general), four-day old lunchmeat, used tennis balls, wires, tubing, worn hair pieces, etc. So for me to throw down the gauntlet like this, well, it’s pretty fucking impressive.
But, like they always do, things done changed. I left my hometown of Philly in 1997, at the age of 18. When I left, my little brother (and his friends) was 14. My little sister (and her friends) was only 11.
Since then, I have returned to Philly on breaks and vacations and watched these friends grow into, ahem, women. I don’t mean this in the pervy “I’m waiting in a trash can in your backyard” sense, but just that I see them when I go out.
(Ok, and one time I hid in one girl’s trash can for four days before I realized she was on vacation. What, and you’re perfect?)
But on each visit back home, I have managed to successfully restrain myself. It’s one thing for me to go up to an unfamiliar girl in Boston or New York and say, “Hey, I’ll give you $46 to come home with me and let me take pictures of you in my clothes”, but it’s another entirely to make such an offer to a woman and have her say, “You’re Dennis’ older brother, right? God, you are as creepy as I’ve heard.”
So I’ve done pretty well with this over the years. When I now go out in the bars in Philly, I’ll see my siblings’ friends, say a cordial and polite hello, and move on. Of course, I’ll spend the rest of the night with a mild erection thinking, “My god – look at her! The last time I saw her she was making her first communion, and now she looks like she’s been in at least a half dozen Vivid films!”
[Editor’s note: I realize that joke alienates the non-Catholics and the non-porn people, but get over it.]
But last week I spent a few days in Philly, hanging out, going out, and getting drunk and it was hard (no pun intended). Worse yet, it was (nearly) uncontrollable. I have to face the fact that my younger siblings’ friends are entirely lustworthy. Damn.
Firstly because, when I was 22 and 19, girls simply did not look like they do now. I know I sound like an old fuddy-duddy, but I know that every guy in America (and possibly Europe and Africa, but not Asia) who read that sentence is thinking, “Yeah, that’s true.” I don’t know what’s happened over the last decade or so, but I’m desperately trying to find out. When I was 18 (I’m 26 now), sure, there were some very attractive girls I was friends with (read: cranked called in the middle of the night to hear their breathing). But they were different…they were certainly good-looking and attractive, but, as referenced above, the didn’t look like they were coming off a shoot of “Island Fever 2” or “Where The Boys Aren’t, Volume 12” (of course, this isn’t to say that this new breed of girls is slutty, but that they just have a certain look about them – although if they were slutty, that is something I totally support).
Secondly, there is the element of the shock factor. For example, one night I saw a girl who I hadn’t seen since she was about 11 (maybe eight or nine years ago) and when she said hello I didn’t recognize her. When in mid-conversation I finally did recognize her, I actually blushed because she had really, um, blossomed. It’s kinda like that SNL skit I love so much: the one in which Lindsay Lohan plays a newly-busty Hermione, shocking Harry Potter and the other characters (sorry, I don’t know any other Harry Potter character names because I’m a grown-ass man).
Thirdly, young girls are HOT. Maybe it’s because they don’t have the baggage/history that women my age come with, baggage that renders them bitter, distrustful, and incapable of any emotions aside from “need” and “want” and “infliction of distress” (again ladies, that email address is firstname.lastname@example.org). Maybe because it’s unorthodox or even taboo to date someone much younger than yourself. Or maybe it’s just because we men want to do them first, before they’re collecting sexual partners like tubes of lipstick or scrunchies or whatever the hell else it is that women collect.
Fourthly, I’m no Denzel, but when learning of many of the guys these girls are sleeping with (most of them time, secretly sleeping with), it is easy to lust after them more, putting all your faith into “if he can get her, why can’t I?” that I have struggled many a night with. This conversation happened a lot:
Me: “My god – is that [some girl I haven’t seen since she was 13 and now looks like a Hooters trainee]?”
Buddy: “Yeah, that’s her. She really grew up, didn’t she?”
Me: “Good lord! Is she with anyone?”
Buddy: “Yeah, she’s messing around with Tommy C.”
Me: “Tommy C? Isn’t that the guy that pushed him mom down a flight of stairs? The really bad gambler, right? And isn’t he like 36?”
Buddy: “That’s him. But don’t tell anybody. He’s getting married next month to some hot-ass Rican broad from Fairmount, so it’s secret.”
Me: [stabs penis with fork]
So it’s over for me. I have tried very hard over the years to do my best and shrug off these sex kitten friends of my siblings, but I can no longer do it. And to be honest, I’m not concerned. I probably should have known this day would come eventually. But perhaps I’m worried that this is an après ceci, le deluge-type thing. Now that I am ok with lusting after them, maybe I’m going to start approaching them in bars asking them if they’d like to see my dad’s basement or if they know that I live in New York City (“In Manhattan, actually. Have you heard of Manhattan? Do you know the show Friends?”). Maybe I’ll start talking at length about the luxurious trips I take to faraway places, hoping that my stories about the African plains and the fjords of Scandinavia (all lies of course) will lead to a shared cigarette and a smooch. Or maybe I’ll just get very drunk and yell inappropriate things at them from the bar stool. Probably that last one.
The good news is that I’m not planning on returning to Philly for a while, so maybe I’ll cool off before then. Let’s just hope that happens, or else I am going to have some big problems. And by “I” I mean “These girls”. I’ll be just fine, only because I always am.
God I’m so fucking high right now. Time for a nap.