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There's been some some new Chicago readership. I don't really have any good material at the moment to write about, so I'll break out a classic....


Senior year of college I became involved with a cute, seemingly innocent Midwestern girl from my English Literature class. The courtship was long and strenuous; at one point I even took her (a vegetarian) to an organic “green” restaurant, where I washed away the taste of horrible tofu with shitty wine. She was cute and nice, so I endured such travails in the hopes of touching warm snatch. At one point during that aforementioned dinner, I remember specifically eating some finger food (dumplings?) with my left hand, so that my right hand would be sterile and uncontaminated should I reach third base that night (I did). But something even more significant happened the night. Something that would set off a course of events that led to my greatest failure to date. That night, in bed, she asked if I had ever engaged in a threesome.

This question could not be passed off as small talk. This was a gift, wrapped with a pretty bow on it. It signaled that she was clearly thinking of a threesome - one that most likely would involve her, her romantic interest (me!), and another girl. So, I reasoned that the logical response was, “Yea, back in high school once. It’s not a big deal really.” This response accomplished two things: (1) I came off as sexually mature and (2) reinforced that it’s “not a big deal”. Nothing more was said about it that night, but the metaphorical seed had been planted. Barring any unforeseen tragedy, a threesome was inevitable.

The very next night she called me and told me come over for “a surprise”. I was very drunk and my sense of logic had all but vanished. When I got to her dorm room, she was sharing a bottle of vodka with another girl. They were both drunk and giggling in bed. Naturally, my first thought was “so where the hell is the surprise?”

I immediately recognized the girl as a student from my ANTH 101 class – Being and Becoming Human. I was a TA in that class, and thus she obviously recognized me as a man of great knowledge and power (a gentleman and a scholar). I always demanded excellence from my pupils, and even made them call me by my last name in exam review sessions. So obviously the conversation immediately turned away from “the surprise” and toward opposable thumbs, monkey sex and the Neolithic period. Being a huge nerd, I got really into it (“What do you think of Professor Scott? She’s kind of weird, right?!”). Yet I still yearned to know what this surprise was.

To sum it up, I was too drunk to understand that the logical “surprise” was a threesome with them. I bored the girl so much talking about anthro, she realized I wasn’t catching on, and left. I woke up the next morning, retraced the events of the night, and felt like putting a gun to my head.

The Midwestern girl was crazy. The girl from my anthro class wasn’t even that hot. But still, a threesome?!