It's physical
Only logical
You must try to ignore
That it means more than that
That's what good ole Tina says, while crooning what's love got to do with it, and when you think about it, it really is the truth. About sex, I mean, and about rampant sex in particular. In the last few weeks, I've basically been really getting around, if you know what I mean, and while that may cause several of my friends to drop their jaws and treat me like Priscilla Queen of the Dessert, pun intended, it also has seen reactions like: don't overdo it.
The other night, I was chatting online with Sin, and while he was cluing me in on the strange subterfuge of aloofness he has had to adopt to get a certain boy into his life, I was regaling him with stories about the men I'd done on my Delhi holiday and after coming back to amchi Mumbai. I told him about my lust affair with the American, and how I was quiite disappointed that he didn't have sex with me despite acknowledging my (ahem) charms, and Sin chortled, "O my god, you're real easy!"
And the truth is: I am. I am easy. In bed, at any rate.
I'm the kind of guy who grins and smiles and charms, and gets charmed by the other person's grins and smiles and charms as well. And I get charmed very easily. There's only so much I can blame it on my sun sign for - and despite all the "careful, I'm a leo: flattery will get you everywhere" dialogue that I give on the chatrooms sometimes, I know that my swollen head and easy capitulation has got less to do with my sun sign and more to do with the way I am.
... which brings me back to Tina's song. Because, for all the eagerness I display to get in bed with a random stranger, that has zero impact on how I fall in love. I'm one of those strange creatures that can very successfuly divide the left side of the brain from the right, have loads of great sex with a hot guy but not fall headlong in love with him if I don't feel the spark. I can pine in lust, as much as I can pine in love. So when I come back and complain to SnowWhite's Stepmother that the American refused to have sex with me, he gets all alarmed and exclaims: "O, don't tell me you're falling in love with another foreigner, I'll smack you!", while I wonder what the big deal is about. Of course I'm not in love with anybody - but can't a guy just wish that he'd been laid when he wanted it so bad? Is that so difficult to understand? *food for thought*
That explains my utter lack of relationship chemistry with the Cute Doc, whom I went out with on a date a couple of weeks back and spent (by all accounts) a very enjoyable coffee and conversation, minus the sex. But we never met up again, and though we bumped into each other online later many a time, neither of us broached the topic of a second date. The verdict is clear: we share great sexual chemistry, sizzle the dance floor together as if it's all just an elaborate bedroom set for us performing pornstars, but as far as the dating thing goes... we had better find other people.
And then there's the other case: TinselTown Man. Not really the type I'm physically attracted to, but so much fun to talk to. So much fun to drink coffee with for hours. Yet, when I received a weekend invitation to a seaside resort, I turned it down. I know he'll ask me again sometime soon, and the strange part is: I don't know whether I'll say yes this time or not. Am I that desperate for romantic companionship that I'll get into bed with a man I'm not very attracted to, but who makes great flambe? Uncomfortable question.
But who am I fooling? I know myself, and I know sex is a very important part of my life. I may overdo it a bit, compared to most other guys in the city/planet, but I can't get into anything in which the sex is bad.
...As Tina says, it's only logical.
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