>>> Primal Urges
By staff writer Nathan DeGraaf
September 21, 2005
Sharon: I want to have sex right now.
Nathan: I have to get up for work in four hours.
Sharon: I didn’t ask you for your schedule, DeGraaf.
The true friend with benefits, unlike the friend with bullshit benefits, is someone who does not want a relationship with you, enjoys having sex with you, and knows your phone number. There’s not much more to it than that. However, because I’m obligated to bust out at least 500 words a week in this here column, I’m classifying the three types of true friends with benefits. All examples are taken from my pathetic excuse for a life. No names have been changed to protect the innocent because everyone mentioned herein is generally guilty.
Sharon, the Crazy Ex
Sharon and I broke up a few years ago with fierce hatred for each other. After we broke up, I wouldn’t go to bed without making sure that my Louisville Slugger was at arm’s length. The chick is insane. Nevertheless, the sex is awesome. So, whenever Sharon and I aren’t seeing anyone exclusively, we reserve the right to go at it. This is a blatantly sexual relationship. For example, often times, when Sharon and I finish coital get downs, she’ll say something along the lines of, “Wow, you could have put a little bit more into it than that,” or, “Jesus, last week was so much better. You have to quit drinking.” When we see each other in public we ignore each other completely. I really don’t like her. She’s intelligent and hot, but she’s a close-minded bitch. Because of this, we can have sex and relax in the comfortable bed of knowledge that is our mutual dislike for one another. Now, technically, Sharon is not a friend, but “enemy with benefits” sounds stupid. The truest definition of a friend with benefits is my friend, Kat. Hey, guess what the next paragraph’s about.
My Friend, Kat
Kat and I have been friends since high school. We value each other’s opinions and we look out for one another. Kat does her best to deter me from getting drunk and making dumb mistakes and I do my best to deter Kat from falling for liars, hustlers and lawyers (she has a thing for intelligent bullshitters). One day, while we were sitting in my apartment trying to figure out what to do on a Tuesday night, she said, “I haven’t gotten laid in three weeks. I’m so horny.”
To which I replied, “You and me both, Kat.”
We looked at each other, shrugged, and then she said, “Oh, why the hell not?” And she kissed me. This eventually led to the funniest sex of my life. (Side note: this is why men and women who fuck should never really be friends first. Friends know a great deal about each other. So when Kat and I had sex, she would say things like, “Did you ever do this with that one stripper slut?” or, “Why don’t you break out those outfits I know you have? I’d like to try the one that math major put on—you know, the chick who broke your window.” Because we knew so much about each other’s sex lives, we couldn’t have sex without laughing at the oddness of it all. I’m not saying it wasn’t good, but it was awkward, that’s all.)
Now, women may tell you guys some bullshit about how having the sex ruins the friendship, but that’s bullshit. If neither person wants a relationship, the sex is just a way to cure a boring night. There’s one more example here (and yes, I know my segues suck).
The Friend with Bullshit Benefits, Revisited
The one night stand turned friend with benefits turned ex-friend with benefits comes back, but only to have sex. Sometimes (i.e. almost never) this works out. Most of the time, it does not work out and you fall right back into the vicious cycle of her trying to make you her boyfriend. I never let the ex-friend-with-bullshit-benefits come back anymore because the odds of it working out are slim, and the odds of me getting arrested for assault increase with each attempt. But take your own risks. It can work sometimes.
Obviously, humans do the sex with benefits gimmick because we like sex, so why can’t all relationships be so simple? Why do we have to tie sex to love? Because I have no idea, I’m asking any female readers out there to let me know. This question has been bugging me for ten years (like most men, I don’t ask for directions until I’ve been lost at least ten years) and I can’t tell you how badly I want it answered. I thank you in advance for your help.
Once again, Nathan DeGraaf is linking to his blog, The Nate Way, because self-promotion is the best kind of promotion. And because he’s vain as hell.