Valley of the dolls

Last week, I went to a new friend’s house to discuss an idea I have for a website. I showed up at the appointed time, knocked but got no response. The door was unlocked, so I went in. I hollered a loud hello, and heard a “back here” coming from his office. When I walked in, he was sitting at his computer, naked. Since he was expecting me, this was clearly for my, um, benefit.

I was a bit shocked, not by the nudity (I’ve logged hundreds of hours sitting in hot tubs with naked people of all sorts of persuasions) but because of the context. He and I had met about a month before, and had only socialized on two occasions. I don’t know if we had even hugged, or had any other physical contact. I had enjoyed talking to him, there was an overlap of interests and social circles. I had no idea he was interested in me sexually, nor had I indicated any overt interest in him. The second time I saw him, he was flirting with every girl in the room, myself included. I certainly didn’t feel special or singled out.

Fortunately, he knew enough about me and my predilections to know that this wouldn’t offend me. I appreciate boldness, honesty and forthrightness in a man, but I would prefer to get them from a man wearing pants. I must have looked embarrassed, because he apologized, and started asking me about my project. I excused myself to use the bathroom, stayed in there for a few minutes, and when I came out, he had gone to get dressed. When he came back in, we had a productive time discussing our project over dinner, and nothing more was said about our initial encounter that afternoon.

While it’s true that men and women are turned on by different things, I believe his come-on followed a pattern of one of the most common male fantasies: the Valley of the Dolls Syndrome.

Trust me, it will take a lot more than Valium to get me naked in five minutes flat.

Trust me, it will take a lot more than Valium to get me naked in five minutes flat.

This term, coined by polyamory blogger Pep-o-mint, refers to the lightning speed with which men can get women into bed without any effort, and it goes a little bit like this: “Oh! You’re the plumber! Let’s fuck!” Works like a charm, every damn time, and takes nothing more than a knock on the door and a stiff dick. There’s no need to chat a woman up, ascertain that she’s interested in him, or spend any time getting to know her. She’s merely an object, a prop in his fantasy, ready to fuck, anytime, any place. While men claim that they know that porn isn’t real, I’m constantly surprised how many men seem to have bought into this illusion. (Actually, this is a fantasy for women as well; Erica Jong famously wrote about it in Fear of Flying in 1973, but it is much more common for men.)

I have a friend who has been trying to sleep with me for years. He stopped by one night and met a friend of mine who was visiting. When I turned him down yet again, he told me that he was considering going next door to ask my friend if she wanted to have sex. He had talked to her for less than a minute. Did he really think that would work, or was he just lonely and desperate? Another time, I posted an ad on Craigslist Casual Encounters and specified that it would take much longer than 5 minutes to get me into bed, because it was important that I be comfortable with a man before sleeping with him. One guy wrote back that was fine, but that he expected we would be fucking within the hour.

His response was immediately deleted, and that was the last ad I ran. I just don’t have much interest in casual sex these days. Or porn, or romance novels. My libido is high, and getting higher by the day as I start working out again. I crave sex, but not of the sort that is nothing more than a quick fuck with no intimacy, or one that includes no actual touching or kissing. Wait, I take that back – I love quick fucks, but they have to be with someone I already have a connection with. And I like casual sex as well when I’m in a relationship; I fall much closer to that end of the non-monogamy scale than full-blown polyamory. But right now? Not so much. My heart is still tender from the divorce, my confidence in my capacity for intimacy is shaken and I grew tired of being the girl you’d hook up with but have no interest in dating years ago.

Is it possible to have sex with someone five minutes after you’ve met them? Sure. I’ve seen it happen at swingers clubs and play parties, but more often than not, people who play with each other in those situations have already established a friendship, either at other events or in real life. I have no problem with casual sex; I’ve had more than most men and women I know. But even if a relationship goes no further than the bedroom, it’s still a relationship and I expect to be treated with respect. I want the men I sleep with to have integrity and good communication skills, because quite frankly, a liaison that’s based primarily on a sex requires a lot of maturity.

There is only one way I know to get a woman into bed within five minutes of meeting her: hire an escort and pay her to have sex with you. Short of doing that, establishing a connection the good old-fashioned way of talking and building a rapport is still the best way to go.