Last night, I went to an anniversary party for a couple that my husband and I are friends with. I don’t really understand their relationship dynamic. Everytime we get together, Donnie is the entertainer/chef and his wife, DV, consumes herself into either her cell phone or DVR’ed episodes of some random Housewive reality show. She doesn’t really interact with the men or the women…even her own family. I know, from my husband…and well, Donnie too, that Donnie keeps a harem at all times. He even has a cell phone that DV doesn’t know about for these girls. I’m sure Donnie’s life is one that most men only dream about. He’s got a white country girl. A dark skinned ghetto girl. An affluent mixed business-world girl. (sort of like Barbies…wait that’s another post). You get the idea. He can pick the girl to suit his mood. He is open with me (now) about this…him and his girls…so we do discuss it occasionally. It makes it hard for me to interact with DV (the actual wife) because I know things about her husband that she either knows and ignores or doesn’t know. Basically between her Housewives/Cell phone addiction and my discomfort, I spend most of the time with the boys at these cookouts/parties.
<<<Backstory: Donnie knows about my tryst with Mr. Affluent in the Community, GC (see Pretty Little Fool post) and was extremely disapproving. So, a little hypocrit goes a long way for me; however, I still love Donnie and usually have a good time at his get-to-gethers.>>>
So, last night, my husband is shucking oysters for the party on his truck tailgate. Everyone is standing around waiting on the next oyster, cracker in hand…and the men start up a conversation about sex and satisfying their women. Me, being the token white woman at the tailgate, allowed into the club only because I invited myself, stood there silently. Until…
Donnie puffs out his chest and exclaims, “Ain’t no woman gonna tell me I can’t satisfy her. Ain’t no woman gonna leave this dick. I’m King Ding-A-Ling.”
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Yeah, that was that record scratching/car breaks sound again.
Huh? Really? Granted, he’s got several girls on the side and still somehow maintains his wife in what I can only assume is a sexually satisfying relationship, but King Ding-a-Ling? I giggled at first, but he was really serious. I asked him, “What do you do for the girls in your life besides penetrate them?” His reply, “Well, DV has her bills paid…and the rest? Nothing.”
Another male party-goer chimes in, “Man, you better tend to them more than that. Don’t mistake me, if your Ding-a-Ling is not there, there’s one in line waiting to take your spot.”
Morals aside, this man knew what he was talking about. He was older and apparently a bit more wiser, although not exactly a professional speaker. I was just taking it all in at this point. The debate continued as the men all went around the circle stating what they thought the key was to finding a good woman. My husband never said a word. Donnie looked at me and I could tell that my initial question was weighing heavily on his mind. He asked, “What do you think about it? Do you think if Hubby isn’t handling it at home, you’d go looking elsewhere?” I don’t know if his vodka was talking or if he was just calling me out about GC, but he really wanted an answer.
I cautiously replied, “If I want sex and my husband is not willing to give it to me or satisfy me in some way, I know for.a.fact. there’s someone out there that can and will. I don’t worry about getting sex from a man. I can get that anywhere…and have. I worry about having a father for my child and a person that I know I can lean on to support me in other ways that don’t involve KY lube.”
He looked at me like I was stupid. The older men standing around all laughed and said things like, “Preach on Little Momma,” “You tell him sister.” He just stood there, mouth agape, and staring at me. He asked me the question, this time more pointed, “So, you’re telling me, you’d use Hubby for the Husband things even if he didn’t get it on with you and you’d still go have sex with someone else?” I replied (calling him out this time), “You do it. Why is it any different?”
Needless to say the conversation dwindled from that point. It was time to eat dinner. God’s graces were placed on the table next to the fried fish and we ate and talked. But not about sex or anything close to it. Family, politics, religion (okay that was close to the sex talk), football…all things typically you are banned from discussing with family or friends. It was a good night. Really. I felt good about standing up for myself. I felt full and a little tipsy on the ride home with the husband. And now, here’s my hypocritical move for the night.
I just finished explaining how good it felt to call Donnie out on his BS. Sitting next to my husband in the truck going down a dark highway. My phone dings. I look down at it and push a button to light it up. It’s from GC. Telling me when he’ll be in town again. I quickly darken the screen again and explain the ding away as an e-mail. I ride in silence for the rest of the trip.
Then I fall asleep thinking about how I would love to have GC’s big, luscious, chocolate lips on mine right at that moment, hands invading my terrority. Instead, I’m lying here back to back with a man who doesn’t feel like touching me. But, he’s a good friend, father, and provider. Maybe, one day, we’ll get that loving feeling back. Until then, I’ll have Ice-Man on the side to give me what my Maverick can’t. …Oh come on! Everybody knew that Kelly McGinnis got it from all of those boys! 😉
Diary of a Dirty Domestic Goddess 
It irks me to no end that guys feel like sleeping around is a God-given right for them, but if we do it, it’s soo wrong and we get judged. Man or woman, we’re all people, so we kind of all have the same needs right?… Men just don’t get it! They’re used to being the ones who can do whatever they want, but we’re not allowed. Ugh.
Amen!