I decided to act like a boy.

I flipped through my mental Rolodex and remembered the name of the last guy who wanted to have sex with me. I had met Tim about two months before in a bar. He had expressed a sexual interest but informed me that he was in the process of ending a live-in relationship. I didn't believe him and, accordingly, I wasn't interested. He was cute, but I'm not down with other people's property. A few weeks back he had gotten in touch. Turns out he really was breaking up with his girlfriend, and he was now out of their apartment and in a new space.

Perfect. There's no way this guy was looking for anything serious. He was stretching his arms, awakening after the deep sleep of an unfulfilling long-term relationship. We're in, we're out, we're done. Make no promises, and take no emotional prisoners.

I e-mailed him and told him he had "popped into my head." Six e-mails later (after the requisite "what's new" exchange), he asked me why I had thought of him. I sat at my computer and stared at his question. Do I couch it? Throw out a "Well, it was really nice meeting you" or "I heard a song/saw a movie/read a book that reminded me of you"? Or do I cut to the chase, be bold and tell him exactly what I wanted.

That boy voice in my head said, "You get what you ask for in this life. Why screw around?"

Indeed, why?

I've written many a great love letter in my life, arranged my words to seduce and inspire, and have been very successful in the past. This note was not one of my finest works. I hesitate to even call it a "work." It was like a note passed in study hall combined with a late-night posting in a chat room. I shudder to reprint it, and yet I find it terribly amusing that I wrote it.

"Well, it's summertime, and I'm looking for a little fun, and you seem like you'd be a lot of fun in bed."

Could I get any cheesier? I held my breath and then sent it. This boylike behavior does not come naturally to me, and I wondered if he would even respond. A few minutes later, he replied with, "Wow. Cool!"

Score.

I've been told before that women can get laid anytime they want, and that it's the boys who suffer, but I have to disagree. Or maybe it's just that we're not willing to sleep with just anyone. For example, I cannot sleep with anyone who is dumb, talks incessantly about how much money he makes, doesn't have a good sense of humor or has really crappy taste in music. I simply can't. If I find a man's personality appalling, I'm not going to have an orgasm, so what's the point? Men, on the other hand, are blessed with the ability to achieve their desired goals simply by finding a nice, warm spot to call home for 10 minutes. Lucky bastards.

Private Life Romance, relationships, and the personal side of Table Talk