Just a Scratch

Last night, I overheard some customers talking about a dilemma.

You are still living with your ex-significant other.  You come home drunk and horny one night.  The ex is willing.  Do you have sex?  They were debating the effect of different ages on the answer.   The supposition was that younger person would be far more likely to put out.

I got sucked into the conversation somehow.  Maybe I butted in.  Doesn’t matter.  I am the upper age that they were using as an example.  “Yeah, I’d do it.”  I didn’t admit to them that I consider that a sign of my weak willpower.  I did acknowledge the other half of it though.  “I think I’ve hit the point in my life where sex has little to do with how I feel about someone.  It’s always better with someone I’m actually into, but the machinery works all the time.  That itch has to get scratched.”

The two guys were in awe.  “How do you get to that point?”

“You have to be hurt a lot.  At least, that’s how it happened to me.”  I can even point to the exact point in my life that I became that way.The girl nodded in agreement, and the two guys speculated for a minute on other ways that could happen.  Eventually the consensus was reached that the detachment of sex and love was most reliably achieved through emotional scarring.

I know how this makes me look.  This is meant as an acknowledgement that sometimes people do things simply to satisfy a need.  You eat because you’re hungry.  You drink because you’re thirsty.  You fuck because you’re aroused.  You scratch what itches.  Not every action has some deep special significance.

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