There's been good and bad...
...on both sides of the fence, but even shit ones are good in a way because they're at least memorable. True, you might not look on them as fondly but they become part of you nonetheless, just the same as the best ones. That and in most cases they teach you a lesson and once you get over them, they're good for a laugh.

The only truly shit sex is mediocre sex. Unmemorable, unsatisfying, lukewarm, going-through-the-motions, what's-the-fucking-point sex. It sucks. It sucks more than the time when a mother-of-two told me her IUD had become detached just as she'd settled on my 19yo little soldier. More even than the day I got frisky with a bloke when we'd both had a serious curry the night before - oh yeah, that was a lesson learned alright. If you've never known mediocre boffing, you're lucky, or at least have been up to now because sadly you won't avoid it for ever.

Case in point: A couple of years ago, a lad piped up in a gay chat room and was a bit too full-on. There were other rooms if a lad wanted to get right to it - this one was just for shooting the breeze. I pointed this out and he began to insist that he had good reason for his familiarity because he'd slept with me. A bold claim, I thought as I had no idea who he was. I was having none of it until he described the interior of the flat I was living in during the time he was talking about. In detail. He then described me. In detail {ahem}. Bloody hell I thought, he's right.

Before you start, it wasn't because I've had so many* I couldn't place him - it was because it must have been so utterly unremarkable that I didn't even bother to note it, let alone remember it or him with it. I remember when the penny dropped saying to the screen 'Fuck mate, but it must have been staggeringly crap', then followed up with '...at least for me - you remember a good time by all accounts.' I felt so sorry for him, and at the same time quite pleased with myself. What? I'm a bloke aren't I?

I did apologise for, well, forgetting he ever existed, as much as I thought it was worth. To my surprise, he took it on the chin and wanted to hook up again - fuck, I must have been good. Still, I declined. Thing is, I couldn't then and still can't remember his face, his performance, or even his peepee and I'm just embarassed for me and him both. The proof he provided is the only evidence to me that it even happened, though it's evidence enough. I remember the face of everyone I've ever slept or even got intensely friendly with, male or female but him, I think, got shunted from storage with no save. That's mediocre.

Even mediocre sex can have a silver lining though, as I've already demonstrated - you develop new appreciation for the good and the shit ones. More for the good ones though ;)

* Trust me, by single gay standards I'm almost a monk. Especially since the departure of the ex a few months ago - I've sought out just one rebound fuck in 5 months and guess what, it was fairly mediocre and I reckon it was down to me that time. Fuck it, I'll make do with my hand for awhile. This time now has been officially dubbed 'Closed For Refurbishment'. I mean to raise my targets on all scores next time I choose, and I'm working hard to make sure I hit them ;)
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 20:47, Reply)