By AMY O.
Welcome to Saturday night at Rulloffs, where every Cornell senior (maybe some juniors too and hey, if your fake ID worked I applaud you) comes at midnight with the intention of meeting someone to go home with. Maybe it was that last drink Kevin poured you or that last game of darts you just lost, but suddenly that guy you met in your freshman writing seminar three years ago looks good and hey, you were friends first, right?
Fast forward to Sunday morning where you wake up in either an apartment you don’t know, with someone you don’t know (has happened to me way too many times … don’t judge) or, if you’re lucky (I usually am not), in your own bed with someone you don’t know. There’s that awkward laugh – the haha-good-morning-what’s-your-name-again-did-we-have-sex-last-night-and-how-soon-is-too-soon-to-ask-you-to-leave kind of laugh — then somehow you both get dressed and he or she leaves with a really horrible kiss on the cheek and an empty promise of, “Yeah, I’ll text you later.” Yeah. Right. Sure you will.
So, what about that time that, instead of making poor life decisions, I decided to have stone cold sober sex with a guy I had met the weekend before?
Listen, at the time it seemed like a really good idea. Seriously, this was the thought process going through my head: He’s really good looking (like really good looking), he told mutual friends that he’s interested in me, we didn’t have sex last weekend when we were both too drunk to function and now, he’s naked in my bed – why not have sex with him?
Out came a condom and some lube (because you know, why not?) and I was on top of him. And it was awful. He was super handsy, was gripping me a little too hard in all the wrong places (ouch, that kind of hurts) and just totally not for me. We both finished and at the time I was like, “this is alright,” but the more I thought about it, the more it felt mediocre and incredibly sub-par.
I don’t want any readers thinking I am advocating for only drunken sex. In fact, I’ve been concerned in the past when friends have come up to me and said, “I can only have sex with him/her when I’m drunk!” because, personally, I usually have sober sex. To be honest (this example aside), sober sex feels a lot better than drunk sex.
Yes, sober sex will not always feel great. The good news is that drunk sex, too, will not always feel great! The difference with sober sex is that, looking back, I was able to pinpoint exactly what I didn’t like about the sex I had that night, which is always a good thing. If I decide to sleep with the aforementioned male again (which is not a decision I will soberly make), I’ll at least be able to tell him my likes and dislikes in bed based on what happened last time. This may not make the sex any better, but at least it’s communication.
So many times Saturday nights lead to drunken debauchery and you end up in your senior year with a list of partners 16 people long when you really, really wanted it to stay under ten (this may or may not be my fate). So, in my attempt to pass on the small amount of wisdom I’ve garnered from those 16 males (some of whom I remember having sex with, some of whom I’ve had to ask in the morning what happened last night): Have more sober sex. It helps you communicate. It helps you make good decisions. I’m not staying be sober all the time because that would be wildly hypocritical (here’s to always being the drunkest girl at the party), but just give it a try. Maybe it won’t rock your world every time, but I promise you’ll be able to make it rock your world the second and third time around.