Here's the problem: I'm fat, I'm balding, I'm in my early thirties, I'm a virgin, and I am beginning to very much need sex.
posted by anonymous to society & culture (73 answers total) 4 users marked this as a favorite
I never expected to get to my early thirties and still be a virgin, but I'm here. I went to a very conservative religious college where getting caught having sex was punishable by expulsion; that having been said, sex was had there by many and I really can't blame the institution for my virginity. I don't know what aspect of my personality or of my appearance has scared away women, or caused romances to fail, but we're getting near an impasse. Then, when I moved to a big city, I got lost amongst the millions; coming here already with a substantial weight around my middle, I just got larger, and I'm now well over three hundred.
I'm not only virginal (I'm hetero, if it matters), I'm severely physically and romantically inexperienced (to use the admittedly juvenile baseball metaphor, once with a college friend in first base, and once a stripper in another city I was visiting allowed me to get to second base) ...
... and I really don't have a good sense of when a natural relationship is going to arise wherein I'm going to be able to have sex as normal people do. Additionally, I face the added problem of being morbidly obese and having a large bald spot in the back of my head, making it unlikely that women are going to look at me and go, "Mmm-mmm, gotta get me some of that." (That last bit said in a tone of bleak black humor ... probably won't come across as well in text.)
I don't think I look bad, precisely: I think I've got good hair [from the front ;-)] and kind eyes and a good smile and a friendly, amiable personality and good conversational skills. I told a good friend I was a virgin, and he was blown away, for the very fact that I do seem to be able to break into conversation so easily with fellow employees at our mutual employer. But take the shirt off or the slacks off and I'm most definitely very, very, very, very, very far down on the "impressive physical specimen" scale. Do you remember the SNL skit when Chris Farley tried out for Chippendale's? (If not, it's findable on YouTube.) Add about 25-40% more weight to his figure in that scene, and that'll give you a visual idea of my appearance.
So, you tell me, go diet, work out, get fit. I've tried, for ten years now. I don't know what blocks my weight loss efforts, what's in my head. And even if I did, without abdominoplasty, I'm not going to look good with the excess skin that'll be left. And that's not the issue I really want to address here, either. What's really at issue here is that I'm beginning to absolutely go stark, raving, absolute bonkers because I've never had sex in my life and my libido is more and more getting far out of control.
I mean, think about human sexuality. Think about your own drives — the basic premise of looking at a beautiful woman and going she is beautiful, and I wish to [bleep] with her until the rooster crows. Now think about what it would be to have a perfectly natural sex drive that had absolutely no opportunity to express itself fully in over thirty-two years, and if you have good enough of an imagination, you'll see the brink of insanity I'm standing upon.
As it is, sad enough, every six to nine months I'll go down to a strip club and pay half a grand for a two-hour "V.I.P." session. Thanks to Puritanism, my city pretty much prohibits any sort of contact between a stripper and a patron. If visiting there was a scene out of Showgirls, I'd probably be pretty fine, at least libido-wise. But instead, time with a stripper in my town is more like The McLaughlin-Lehrer Report. (Admittedly, Jim Lehrer isn't a 20-something female with long hair and boobs that dances naked in front of you to '80s music.) Pretty much all "V.I.P." gives you in my town is entire nudity very, very close to you. And although that's nice, it pales after a while, too.
I've endured celibacy for a while, but I'm beginning to actually feel the breakdown of my endurance on this particular matter. Don't get me wrong, though. Somehow, part of the way I'm made up is the premise if it's not sexy for her, it's not sexy, meaning that it just would feel gross and wrong to do something like subway flashing or groping. And rape would never be something I'd consider even in the darkest and most frantic of moments, trust me. So when I say I'm close to breaking down on the "not having sex" front, I don't know what a post-breakdown would be like. But I just know that I'm getting close.
But I'm totally at a loss as to what to do next. I'd like to do something to have sex rather soon, even if it turns out it's not going to be with someone who actually loves me in return. That was the original dream, but hell, at least I have a good job, a place to live, etc. We don't always get everything we dream for.
I mean, I'm not the kind of guy that can walk into a bar and walk out into an evening of cheap sex. I don't have that skillset or the necessary appearance.
And I frankly have no idea how to go about hiring a "professional" (and I'm not even sure we can discuss that here, due to its illegality).
But at the same time, I'm beginning to really fray around the edges, and I don't know what to do or where to go next with this.
P.S. The first one who tells me I'm "putting the [ahem] on a pedestal" gets shot. I don't have the gorgeous Catherine Keener, a crew of well-connected streetwise, funny friends, or a '60s hippie musical number over end credits awaiting me.