Though I have never done it, as a female, I have the unique option of claiming that I’m on my period when I’m not so that I don’t have to have sex (assuming that I don’t want to, that is). Nothing gets someone off your nuts as fast as those four words. Well, maybe “please have my babies.” Actually, I’d guess that they’re tied. But sometimes Aunt Flow comes around when you actually want to have sex — that bitch. And that’s where our story starts.Earlier in the semester I met a guy, Raphael, at a party — he was the nice, cute, interested in you and not just your boobs (but still interested in your boobs) type. He asked for my number and I gladly gave it to him. We didn’t speak again till I instigated a text conversation a few weeks later, and even then we didn’t say much but just agreed that we should hang out at some point. A week later I got “the booty text” that we have all found ourselves getting all too familiar with as of late. It was a text of the “let’s hang tonight” variety, sent at 11:15 p.m. Every girl and every boy, even the ones who won’t admit it, knows that texts like these are really code for “sex tonight?”Though I was at another party already and not looking for a fling or one-night stand of any sort, I thought that this boy was cute enough to deserve a reply. Not simply a reply, but an affirmative reply. And so approximately two hours later, we were sitting in my living room watching American Beauty. (Such an amazing — yet incredibly fucked up — movie.)Somewhere in between one of my many “I can’t believe he/she just did/said that!”s I felt that tiny trickle of blood in my panties — the telltale sign that you’re a non-pregnant woman. It was THAT time of the month. Normally this wouldn’t surprise me, but it was two days early and I’m about as regular as Client 9 is with his prostitute. I didn’t want to say anything, especially not in middle of the movie, but I was more than a little flustered. While I had not necessarily been planning on having sex with Raphael before the movie, watching American Beauty made me want to have sex — it’s just so sexual (probably the reason that he picked the movie).The movie finally ended and we started making out on the couch. Then the clothes started coming off and I realized that if my pants came off, not only would I stain the couch cushions and cause my roomies and landlord to flip out, but Raphael would also be more than a little grossed out. Saying that my period just rolled in seemed pretty unbelievable, but it was the truth and all I really had to go off of. So I told him that I was menstruating and that he wasn’t going to get any because of it.Raphael didn’t really seem to believe me. In fact, I’d say that I’m 97% sure he just thought I didn’t want to have sex with him (and while the subsequent happenings did make me not want to have sex with him, at the moment that I said I was on my period, I still did want to have sex with him). Our exact back and forth was:
R: Wait, really?
H: Yeah, really (said while awkwardly half-smiling).
R: Well, give me a blowjob.
H: Uh, we’ll see (shocked face).
As it turns out, boys don’t take the “it’s that time of the month” explanation for not having sex so well. So try not to find yourself in the same situation as me, because if you do, there’s not much you can say but tell the truth to the man (or woman — though I’d guess that a woman would be more understanding) who is trying to get in your pants. I suppose you could make something up, like saying that you haven’t shaved you legs in six weeks so they’re monstrously hairy, but I personally think that sounds even grosser.Last but not least, in Raphael’s defense, I really can’t blame him for being upset. If I were him, I would’ve thought that I was leading him (me?) on too. I guess I’m just used to being with guys who I’d expect to believe me when I say that I’m on the rag. My bad. RLD
Original Author: Hazel Gun