Srta. Sexo

I’m moving to New York City.

There is a plethora of men handed to you at your fingertips. And I am pretty sure my self-confidence boosted about 300% during my four-day vacation there. That’s because the men there have no problem telling you like they see it: if they think you are beautiful, trust me, you will know how they feel. If they want to get into your pants, you’ll know. New York City men are not good at keeping secrets. And, it’s kind of fun—no, really fun. You know what you’re getting yourself into. And, mostly, it’s a really good time. Maybe New York provides that sense of freedom because it’s so big that you don’t have to worry about the awkward run-in with a one-night stand.

So, I was waiting for my train to NYC from the Newark airport. I look to my right, and I see a cute Latin boy. We exchange smiles and a couple of glances. “Do you know how long the train takes to get to the city?” he asks. I know he knows the answer; he’s been on this train before. “Not sure; I’ve never taken it. It’s my first time flying into this airport.” “Oh yeah? Just visiting?” “Yeah, I’m here for a few days to see some friends.”

“Ya hace algo de tiempo, no?”, me preguntó una amiga mientras le pegaba a la mesa con el pie. “Hay Dios, algo de tiempo ni siquiera se acerca”. Trate de enfocarme en mis estudios pero no estaba funcionando. Mis pensamientos seguían llevándome con un chico guapísimo sentado frente a mí. “En serio, cuánto tiempo hace? Una semana?” Su sarcasmo estaba justificado ya que supuestamente yo tenía aventuras una vez por semana. Pero había pasado más de una semana… más de un mes… Bueno, quizás solo un par de días pasando el mes, pero aun así era mucho tiempo (para mí) y me sentía reprimido.

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“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” a girlfriend asked as I continuously tapped my foot against the table. “Oh God, awhile is an understatement.” I tried focusing on studying, but it wasn’t working. My thoughts kept reverting to a hot guy I saw sitting across from me. “Seriously, how long has it been? A week?” Her sarcasm was justified, since I seemed to have weekly adventures. But it had been longer than a week...longer than a month… Okay, maybe just a couple days over a month, but it was still a long time (for me), and I felt deprived.

Seattle is not an easy city to be sexless in. First, because the weather is so dreary, it can get a little depressing at times. And while sex is certainly not the only thing that can bring a smile to my face, it certainly does help. Sex is scientifically proven to help increase one’s happiness, so I try to have as much of it as possible.