Tag Archives: romance

A Warning to Young Men and Their Expensive Dinner Dates – “If You Ain’t Got Fifty Cents!”

fifty cents tip shotfifty cents sly stone

Recently, I had a wonderful lunch in Manhattan with an attractive, wealthy middle age woman of class. Though the “class” word is fast disappearing from our daily vocabulary, let me tell you guys you’ll be a very lucky man if you ever meet a classy woman. They are becoming a scarce commodity. They are treasures to be with and, believe it or not, sex does not play a significant, if any, role in the “class” experience moment.

We were reminiscing about a guy we both knew who crossed the forbidden Rubicon River falling helplessly in love with a woman who spent him into bankruptcy and then left him. He became profoundly depressed and, thanks to his old girlfriend, he managed to pull out of his doldrums, but he’s still broke. Luckily, his girlfriend has a job and is supporting him. We both wondered about the depth of a woman’s love.

This story brought to mind a philosophic conversation about women and money that my lady of class had with her son who is in his early twenties with hormones thriving. He lives in Manhattan and his mother, though well off, demands that he earn his living on his own though she wisely helps him when needed. One night, after they had finished dinner, the son described to his mother the dating scene with young men and women on a dinner date. He mentioned that working women were making good money, many more than men, and some of his friends were happy troupers when women offer to pay or split the bill thankfully accepting it. (Before I go on with the story, though I have no data, I doubt- no, I’m sure- lots of women are not anxious to pay the tab despite their income).

The son and only a couple of his friends much prefer to pay the dinner bill even with a rich woman. They are criticized by their friends and even some women for being romantic dinosaurs and not in tune with how women have changed. Despite the dinosaur criticisms, the son told his mother he still will not permit a lady to pay the bill and asked her whether there’s something wrong with his mindset.

I was impressed by the wisdom of her response and guidance. She said there are umpteen pundits, therapists and whoever out there who will interpret this act in many ways including it as a way to control the situation and not as an act of respect to the woman. She mentioned how his deceased father would open the door car for her and pull the chair out from under the dinner table before she sat as a symbol of respect. These little acts played a role in her falling in love with the man.

I then burst out into laughter, and she looked hurt as if I insulted her for those remarks. Sensing this, I gently held her warm hand and said, “Patrizia, you reminded me of a delightful old poem, author unknown, about a guy, with only fifty cents in his pocket, took a gal out to dinner where she drank and ate more than he could afford. Your son should read it- and smile. That’s what made me laugh.”

The poem goes as follows:

                                      I Had But Fifty Cents

I took my gal to a fancy ball;

It was a social hop;

We waited until the folks got out,

And the music it did stop.

Then to a restaurant we went,

The best one on the street;

She said she wasn’t hungry,

But this is what she eat:

A dozen raw, a plate of slaw,

A chicken and a roast,

Some applesass, and sparagrass,

And soft-shell crabs on toast.

A big box stew, and crackers too;

Her appetite was immense!

When she called for pie,

I’d thought I’d die,

For I had but fifty cents.

 

She said she wasn’t hungry

And didn’t care to eat,

But I got money in my clothes

To bet she can’t be beat;

She took it in so cozy,

She had an awful tank;

She said she wasn’t thirsty,

But this is what she drank;

A whiskey skin, a glass of gin,

Which made me shake with fear,

A ginger pop, with rum on top,

A schooner then of beer,

A glass of ale, a gin cocktail;

She should have had more sense;

When she called for more,

I fell on the floor,

For I had but fifty cents.

 

Of course I wasn’t hungry,

And I didn’t care to eat,

Expecting every moment

To be kicked into the street;

She said she’d fetch her family round,

And some night we’d have some fun;

When I gave the man the fifty cents,

This is what he done:

He tore my clothes,

He smashed my nose,

He hit me on the jaw,

He gave me a prize

Of a pair of black eyes and with me swept the floor.

He took me where my pants hung loose,

And threw me over the fence;

Take my advice, don’t try it twice

If you got but fifty cents.

fifty cents crutches shot

 

 

 

 

The Critical Importance of Men and Women Faking Orgasms

fake-orgasms

G and I recently read an article about the classic, unforgettable faking-orgasm, dinner scene in the movie, When Harry Met Sally (1989), starring Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal. He thinks he’s a great lover but Ryan reminds him that women are expert at faking orgasms, and many could have faked them in order to please him which, of course, he stubbornly refuses to believe. To prove her point, she puts on a legendary convincing faking -orgasm performance which, between you and me, was so good that I thought she was enjoying herself so much that it was the real thing! But that’s another story.

The talented director, Rob Reiner, in an attempt to coach Ryan on how to portray the scene, acted out a faking –orgasm moment and, according to Ryan, he worked up a mighty sweat doing it. Maybe he, like Ryan, may have enjoyed it, if you know what I mean. But that’s also another story!

But here’s a delightful, impromptu event. Reiner’s mother, Estelle, was in the movie playing the role of a diner sitting at the next table. After Ryan performed her orgasm scene, she suggested to her son that she should say, “I’ll have what she’s having.” And her son agreed after which it went viral even to this day it is talked about among those older than our Millennials.

Reiner, with his innate sense of humor remarked, “How sick is this? I’m doing this in front of my mother.”

Anyway, this article got G and me talking about our thoughts on both sexes faking orgasms. Most of what is written and discussed deals with women doing it. We concluded that it’s probably due to the fact, for whatever reasons, it is more common with women because women have more reasons for faking it. Also, it’s easier for them to do because they don’t ejaculate like men. For sure, the wearing of a condom makes it easier for men but many don’t wear them, particularly since many women are on oral contraceptives. Also, most men don’t use them with women past the child-bearing age. Surveys report that condom- less men also fake orgasms and supposedly get away with it. It’s puzzling how. Here’s another fact that’s puzzling. It’s the erection. In many men who lose interest, it disappears! So how can they fake it?

G and I both strongly believe that the art of faking orgasms lightens the burden of life, particularly for women. This point has unforgivingly been absent from the professional and lay media. Our lives are being effectively inundated with way overrated messages about the wonders of sex. It’s as if your phantasies should be fulfilled every time you copulate. It just ain’t so. Not even close. Many times one partner, either the man or the woman, have no interest in copulating or indulging in other types of sexual acts. Even if they do, they quickly get it over with after their happy moment searching for immediate peace and quiet.

The reasons behind faking orgasms are multiple most boiling down to “just not being in the mood” but oftentimes just wanting to please the partner. Commonly, particularly in married and working women, they’re just plain tired or under stress worrying about problems regarding their kids at school or financial obligations or the pain- in- the- ass boss at work. Also, many are not turned on by their partners at that or any moment or, as I mentioned before, not that interested in sex in general, an underappreciated but common feeling. There are, of course, other reasons that you ladies and gentlemen are well aware of and need no explanation from G and me!

Now to faking it, and why, in many cases, it’s essential: We are assuming that, except for the powerfully hormone driven young, most men and women would like to please their lovers. Driven by our sexual revolution, American young males remind us of the American bison commonly incorrectly called a buffalo. A couple of months before mating, the bison has a huge sexual surge in his testosterone and urge to copulate but the females in the herd are not yet ready to accept penile insertion. He, out there in the plains, wants to eliminate competition so he fights other male bisons, sometimes even to the death and loses much of his body weight in doing so. Then, when he senses that the lady bison is in heat, he somehow locates her in the herd, mounts her and strokes away for only 15 seconds to have his happy moment after which he walks away forever! Such is the immense power of the young male sex drive.

So what’s our point? Unless one is a bison there is a lot of psychology in having an orgasm. Though there are little good clinical data on this subject, common sense and experience tells us that most men and women, in addition to their personal pleasure and deep down feelings, want to share sexual intercourse with their mates. And many times the best way to accomplish this altruistic goal is by faking orgasms! It’s nothing more than a “white lie” which oftentimes makes life easier.

As I was about to post this piece, I thought whether G had experiences with women faking orgasms. I also thought that he, with his track record of pleasing about 300 women, would be, like Billy Crystal, and deny that it could possibly happen to a man who made love to more women than Casanova.

The first response I elicited from him after asking the question was a hearty burst of laughter. “Sure it happened. I may be good but I ain’t that good.” He wholeheartedly agrees that the white-lie art of faking orgasms, in many cases, can make for a more harmonious sex life.

A Valentine from Cupid and My Bragina: A Guest Post by Endorfina

I would like to thank Lorenzo for his kind invitation to periodically share my point of view on his provocative blog.  I quickly agreed under the condition that I, like “G”, would remain anonymous.  Not because I, like “G”, have had 300 lovers, but just to write more freely behind an invisible cloak.

I love the idea of being anonymous! As a little girl, I would try on the slippers of Cinderella or the tiara of a princess and happily disappear behind these imaginative disguises for hours before returning to reality.

Why did I choose the pen name of Endorfina? When I was in my early 20’s, I met an authentic Italian count at a cocktail party in an ancient Italian castle.  He was tall, dark and dramatically draped in an impressive black cape.  I was introduced by my real name, but he quickly replied, “No, I am going to call you Endorfina!”  A bit confused I asked, “Perche?”  With seductive charm he explained that I was a simpatica bella bionda which brought to his mind endorphins, the neurotransmitters in the brain responsible for decreasing pain and suffering as well increasing pleasure.  He was a romantic scientist, and I was taken by the romantic compliment.  He was also a strikingly handsome Italian!

And so, as Endorfina, I will write and wonder about what’s going on in the world of sex and love today. I am a happily divorced single mom who remains idealistic about romance.  I am amazed by all of the mind-boggling options available for dating and sex today.  I am learning a lot from Lorenzo’s blogs as well as his entertaining book about G’s sexual encounters.  The Table of Contents alone is tantalizing! (See below)

Screen Shot 2014-02-13 at 11.32.50 AMScreen Shot 2014-02-13 at 11.32.58 AM

I recently saw the movie “What’s Your Number?” I thought it referred to the telephone.  Wrong!  Girlfriends in their early twenties were sharing secrets about their number of sexual partners.  One young woman was horrified to discover, after slowly counting on her fingers, that her number was 19 – far above her friends.  Despite her love of sex, she made a vow to keep the number under 20 until she found Mr. Right.  In the end she finds him, marries him and he becomes lucky number 20!

If someone asked you what’s your number would you be truthful, proud or embarrassed?  I guess a lot depends upon your age and generation.  I also wonder how fast numbers increase in today’s world. My number, like my name, will remain anonymous.

Of course, your numbers will climb faster if are a tri-sexual dabbler or in a poly-amorous relationship.  I was surprised to read in Lorenzo’s blog that some women often experiment with tri-sexual adventures in the hope of luring a man for themselves and then exiting the triangle.

The Internet has opened all kinds of options for relationships beyond the standard match.com, e-harmony and others. There is a website www.partimelove.com for partners looking for “less” – a relationship that doesn’t demand too much time.  Married men and women openly pursue affairs on www.ashleymadison.com.  Their motto is “Life is short. Have an affair.”  Soon it will be easy to get lucky in the air!  There will be a new app, www.wingman.com, where passengers exchange photos and flight numbers by phone to see if anyone on board stimulates their hormones!

Given all of the above, Lorenzo’s theory of the BGL, Brain Genital Law, makes a lot of sense.  At first for me it was a bit of a tongue twister.  I, subconsciously or not, twisted it into a new word Bragina.   My definition of Bragina is a woman’s brain sending signals to her vagina where many a debate rages over decisions like, “Oh yes, yes or no, or maybe or not in a million years!”

From the male point of view, picture the famous Seinfeld episode where Jerry’s cartoon brain sits on one shoulder and his cartoon penis on the other battling to determine who will win the argument about whether to bed with a buxom sexy actress or send her home.  She had a great body but was also a dingbat with an annoying nasal whiny voice.  The brain won the argument which as soon regretted by lonely Jerry’s shrinking penis.

Back to the Bragina:  Valentine’s Day is around the corner. That means there will be many women hoping for roses, chocolates, champagne, caviar, sparkling jewelry and a romantic evening, perhaps with a happy ending.  There will also, most certainly, be many Bragina debates about what’s for dessert!  Coffee, tea or me?

What would Cupid think- the god of desire and erotic love and son of the love goddess Venus?  When I googled Cupid, I was directed to www.cupid.com  – another site for digital romance hit by the chubby cherub’s arrow!

My Bragina is nostalgic for the romance of days gone by.  And so, I am hoping for a little love and romance on the ground, not in the air, without the help of the Internet.  Wish me luck!

Photo credit: mauritsdoetjes / Foter / CC BY-NC

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