After the constant phone calls to my mommy, the sudden need to lock myself inside my room and my lovely mood swings, I started wondering how much was I actually growing up. Right after the following thought popped into my head I no longer question that I’m 20 going on 16:
“Is everybody having more sex than me?”
All this started a couple of months ago, while I was having a not-so-deep conversation with an 18 year old girl friend, who isn’t exactly the sharpest tool on the shed, but I wouldn’t say she’s dumb… She’s sweet, really, most of the times. I guess that would be a really long nickname, so let’s call her “my tall friend” (yes, she’s tall… Didn’t I mention that?).
Tall Friend: […silly monologue you really don’t need to know as I can hardly remember it] but I’m pretty sure I don’t have more experience than you do.
Me: With how many guy have you been with?
Tall Friend: When you say ‘been with’ you mean actually fucked?
Me: Yeah… [If you want, make up something extra here, pretend I actually add something of value to the conversation]
Tall Friend: Eight.
Me: So I look like a girl who has fucked more than eight guys? That’s good to know… [and I meant every word]
From that point on it seems like everything I hear is how many fucks people have had in their lifetimes…
Unfortunately, from the first night I tried to catch up with those number I realized I have high standards … Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m just as surprised as you are.