Surviving the jungle

by woodenunderpants

Last week I went on a “meet and greet” date as they are called in the online dating world.  One of my friends (she knows who she is) calls them a scratch and sniff.  Anyway, as some of you know, I am back into the world of dating and let me tell you, dating in my 40’s is not like dating in my 20’s.  As I remember, and I barely do, dating in my 20s was much easier.  I have not dated in 20 some years and its a struggle.  One of the most treacherous parts of 40s dating is the sex.   At some point my date and I started discussing said sex and our experiences with it.   The comment was made (and I am paraphrasing) that there are a lot of men that have no idea what they are doing, uh, lets say “south of the border”.  I think the statement was probably accurate, but there is a reason, a damned good reason and I have chosen an analogy for said reason.  Buckle up, I’m going to use the V word. Mom if you have somehow gotten a hold of this and are reading, its  best if you stop here and go make a pie or something.

The vagina is one of the most mysterious devices ever created.  It is both loved and feared by all men.  The vagina is also one of the most difficult parts (other than the mind) of a woman’s body to figure out.  After telling my date this much, she quickly disagreed.  I told her that a vagina is like an Amazonian jungle, and its not just like one jungle, they are all completely different jungles.  Millions of jungles, none of them the same, all of them with different flora and fauna and terrain.  A trip south of the border is akin to a trek through a jungle that you have never seen before.  Your task, to make it to the other side of the jungle, alone, to make it to the lost city of Orgasm-O-topia, and let me tell you, that is one hard place to find.  The biggest problem is that for at least your first few trips into the jungle there will be no instruction.  You must make it to Orgasm-O-topia on your own, no directions, no map, no path, no vagina GPS, NOTHING! You must whack your way through this jungle for god knows how long until by complete luck and chance you happen upon the city, or until you get the  “oh just stop it already” tug on the ears.  Few men ever find said city on their first excursion into the jungle.  They wander and poke and prod and weep aimlessly for what seems like hours only to sadly slink home defeated without ever having glimpsed the beautiful city.  Our poor tongues bruised and aching from the trip.  Half our hair torn out, our poor ears reddened and sore from all the pulling and steering.

As I stated before, all jungles are completely different.  The most rare of all jungles is the one that you step into, walk about 3 steps and bump head on into the screaming lost city.  Men if you have somehow found one of these jungles in your dating travels, kudos to you, hang onto it.  For the men that say that all jungles are this easy for them, well all I have to say is bullshit.  Most jungles are not like the aforementioned jungle, they are long arduous treks with very little hope of finding the city.  One jungle may require you to climb a tree along your path.  Others may require you to swim a river or spelunk a cave.  Some require special tools and devices to get you to the city.  The twisted irony being that you will not be presented these tools and city finding aids until your 10th or 20th trip to the jungle.  Women want you to find the lost city but most don’t want to make it easy for you by just providing a few simple tips which would shorten your trip to mere minutes.  Finding the city is like any Indiana Jones like adventure, it must be fraught with perils and danger.  Some jungles have traps and snares.  Touch the wrong place and you may get slapped right out of the jungle, never to return again.  Again there are no warnings, no hieroglyphs written on the walls by men that have traveled this path before, warning you of said perils.  It might be nice if there were a permanent marker stamp stating STAY OUT, that men could purchase and have at the ready.  Other men would see the stamp placed in some areas and know that other men have lost their way at these locations.  Maybe a little skull and crossbones indicating certain death if trespassed.

Lets be clear about something, women do not want the journey to be easy.  They want us to get there, but they want us to do it on our own. They need to know we know how to “get places” without our hands being held.  Which is ironic given all the crap we take for refusing to ask for directions. I think women see us reaching the city as a right of passage, that is why there cannot be any direction or aid given.  I feel that if I ever found the city on my first adventure into the jungle that at the point of reaching the city, I would kneel and she would take a sword and touch both shoulders and deem me worthy of entering the lost city.  Maybe a key would be given that I would wear around my neck as a sign to all men that I have conquered the most difficult of tasks that womankind has to offer.  But, if after numerous trips through the jungle, wandering aimlessly, looking at plants and poking at ferns, you are still unable to find the city, then as sign that they have given up all hope that you will ever find the city on your own, you will be given some instruction.  The instruction may be as simple as “turn here” or “for the love of god would it hurt to touch HERE?” Or in the worst of cases, she just tells you “oh the hell with it, I will find the damned city on my own”.  Or the instructions may be like reading a Chinese road map.  If the latter, its best to just admit defeat and find someone else to date.

Speaking of the date.  After rambling on for what must have seemed like an eternity to her, she said “but what about men, men are difficult as well!”.  “Are you kidding?” I said. “Penises are like a trip through a football field sized dry lake bed.  There isn’t a blade of grass between you and our city.   There is even a giant sign on the ground that says, START HERE, and another at the finish line that you can actually see from the starting line that says END HERE.  You can actually see the city (ours is not lost) from where you are standing at the starting line.  That’s it, we are that simple.  Women on the other hand, my god, if ever there was something that should have instructions tattooed on it, its the vagina.

Its unlikely there will be a second date.

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