I eat with my elbows on the table and often talk with food in my mouth. I have no idea what an artichoke even looks like, let alone how to eat one. Despite my complete barbarism, I hold a very high code of etiquette when it comes to the bedroom. Maybe I don’t hold up on my end (although my sheets were laundered a couple days ago, if that counts for something), but know that even in the morning the most minute detail must pass through my comprehensive, six-volume (unpublished) publication (that only exists in my mind), Systemma Connubialica (yes, I researched a dead language for my column. Some Sun columnists actually do include a little effort in their columns instead of waxing indignant about PowerPoint in size 150 font, or, even worse, vomiting out the worst approval matrix known to man. I’m sorry I’m not sorry. I’m a cocksman).
You have been lured back to a guy’s place due to his incredible charm and soul-piercing blue eyes, the promise of the pizza from CTP that sits in the box in his hand and the potential to expand your mind by “watching Planet Earth.” This is not a routine by the way. These are just things guys like. If you want, go away, I will learn about shallow seas by myself.
The story hopefully continues in another “shallow sea” (and not a cave). Like Reese’s, there’s no wrong way to have sex, so I’ll skip the etiquette part here. Just stick to the safe word (“no”) if something is really weird or if someone asks if I like tomatoes.
My qualms with etiquette come after the deed has been done. Because my only forms of exercise come from chasing down beer pong balls, running to the Palms before last call, closing the lid on a George Forman grill and sex, I don’t think it’s rude to pass out after 30 minutes of vigorous missionary. Missionary accomplished, now sorry if I’m snoring. But as the saying goes, what goes to sleep must wake up. Jeez, you’ve never heard that before? Read a book or something!
First off, are you still there in the morning? I don’t care how close you live … spend the night. We like waking up to look into your eyes with the little booger crust on the corners. If you leave me a note like FedEx, don’t expect to be getting a package any time soon. Actually, I lie — we’ll probably just try harder. But don’t do it! Notes suck! That’s why I’m writing this in class instead of taking them. I can only make an exception in the case of a twin size bed (why is it called twin size? They must have been some small and awkwardly close twins to share a bed of that size …). How did I ever live without a full-size? I don’t even have to touch you if I don’t want to!
So assuming you are there in bed, I think it is entirely appropriate and highly recommended to remain naked in the morning. We like you body, so let us appreciate it in the light of new morning (read: when we wake up at 7 a.m. because the alc has worn off). While I love how you look in the 2008 OL shirt I never wear and shorts you need to roll up at the waist, I like exposed breasts more, regardless of their size (This lends itself to further morning apropos, but we’ll get to that later).
In the meantime, kiss me, damnit! Morning breath be damned, I want some smooches in the morning. Makes me feel all romantic, like we actually like each other.
To spoon or not to spoon? It has come to my attention that I enjoy teeny-tiny girls, so I am all for a puzzle piece, super-close snuggle … until my arm goes numb. Then allow me to roll over onto my stomach and thrust an arm over you. Think of this as a game of tag and I never leave base, and touching you is base.
Guys, now it’s our turn (or girls if we’re at your place). Go to the kitchen, grab a cup and get some water. A simple gesture that everyone can appreciate (bonus points for milk! I love milk! WHOLE MILK!) Easy stuff.
Want to go a step farther? Eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs … everybody! Scramble ‘em up. Or if you are an expert omelet maker (ahem), make that perfect half-moon omelet. And drink milk! This has now become a serious rendezvous, not your typical one-night stand. Did you really, REALLY enjoy yourself and each other? Make plans for the rest of the day (skeet shooting). You can really jump start a relationship with a great night/day combo. Maybe even a night/day/night if all goes well.
But if you’re at her place, don’t linger. No one likes a lingerer. This doesn’t mean head for the hills (very easy in Ithaca) as soon as you wake up, but don’t overstay your welcome.
No great morning can be complete without morning sex though (this is obviously an overstatement so don’t harp on semantics you dumb semanticists). With the burst of hydration from that water you shared, go for the morning encore. As per previous paragraphs, you’re already naked and kisses have been exchanged. Why not take another trip around the base path? Class is a lot more tolerable when you know you’re probably the only person in the room that had sex that morning …
Aww … what a great morning it has been. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and it is 50 degrees outside (shorts weather!). Even if it’s the nicest day, if you have the means, drive your lady home in the morning. Give her a kiss goodbye and let her know that you’ll call or text her soon. Or at the very least, let her keep that 2008 OL shirt.
And, oh yeah, it should go without saying, but GO BIG RED BASKETBALL! Louis Dale? I KNOW ‘EM.
Jeff K. is a senior in the College of Engineering. He may be reached, for sexual encounters or otherwise, at firstname.lastname@example.org. Come Inside appears alternate Thursdays this semester.
Original Author: Jeff K.