Whenever I catch up with Vinnie we discuss the comical antics at his present workplace, we talk about the people from the past we’ve run into, about my shop, which he takes a keen interest in, and always, women.
Back in the day Vinnie and I would have a few nights out around town, and generally with a few girls in tow. He’s a very committed bachelor and a very good operator, and pretty active. We had some big nights and good nights out and about.
We chat about the women we’ve seen and the adventures we’ve had since the last time we caught up. Often there are some pretty interesting and occasionally saucy tales to tell. So it was again yesterday.
Vinnie told me how he had taken on a protegé from the goodness of his heart. This person was a young Asian guy, not very big and with so little confidence that he’d struggle to enter a venue by himself, let alone go up to a girl and talk to her. Being a past master at this Vinnie had very kindly decided to share his mastery and wisdom with someone desperately in need of it. Think of it as a community service.
It’s at this point that Vinnie’s voice took on a different note. He didn’t shake his head, nor did he sneer, but there was something of that attitude in his voice as he explained to me the realities of sex today.
“Man, you wouldn’t believe it,” he said. “It’s so easy these days, you don’t have to do anything.”
Whilst many blokes out there would welcome such developments, Vinnie saw it as a retrograde sign of cultural deterioration. I have to agree.
He told me the story of how his protegé was on the dance floor when a young woman – say about 22 – walked up to him and without saying a work plunged her hand down the front of his pants. “And, get this,” he says, “that’s not the only time. You meet someone and 10 minutes later you’re getting it off.”
This time there was a shake of the head. He spoke like a hunter who for years had stalked his quarry and used all his wits and hard-won experience to bring it to heel, and gained some well deserved renown for it – only one to find one day that his prey has become tame, more than that, now approaches and aggressively nuzzles the hunter. Where’s the sport in that?
I’m not surprised. Seems to me everything is easy these days, and no-one ever expects anything different to that. To a couple of old school grizzled men about town like us it’s hard to adjust to. I guess I wouldn’t complain if someone pretty introduced herself to me by checking out the rig, but only once.
Yes, it’s lovely to get naked and sweaty with an attractive member of the opposite sex, but there’s more to it than that. Sex should be the culmination, and not the whole thing. It used to be a windy and often perilous road, but a journey well worth your effort because something nice was at the end of it.
You know how much fun it is to charm and seduce, to use your wiles, your wit, your intelligence to inveigle your way into another person’s intimacy? They know what you’re after, and in the old days they protected it doggedly. You smile, they smile, you say yes, they say no, and you both enjoy the contest. And, here’s the rub, they say no but they’re happy for you to do your best. It flatters them, and it’s charming to be charmed – and actually quite often a reward awaits for those truly accomplished. That’s the deal: prove you’re worthy and maybe I’ll say yes – and what fun it is to strive for just that. Even when you fail it’s fun.
There’s that, and there’s something else which these days probably comes across as being sexist. By and large I like the traditional roles whereby the bloke tries to get into the knickers of the girl trying to keep them on. It feels our destiny to be the aggressor, our genetic imperative. As much as anything else it defines the relationship between us.
Like I said I’m not against the occasional reversal of that. If some alluring woman cruised up to me and said ok buster, how about it then the answer would probably be yes. If we begin to blur those roles how much else gets blurred?
Seems to me this is symptomatic of our times. Instant gratification, I want it I’ll have it. I’m all for sexual liberation. I don’t see any difference between a boy wanting it and a girl, and make no judgements. I just don’t want it to be so functional. There’s mystery and even a kind of romance in the seduction process. Without that ceremony it becomes more trivial and matter of fact. Maybe there’s some merit in the traditional gender roles, in this regard at least. Let’s agree we both want it bad, but please, can we go through the delicious motions first?