City Paper is not for tourists
What would you make of someone who intentionally leaves a pubic hair on your toilet seat every time he visits your home? This guy is ostensibly straight—married, even. I’m gay, and my boyfriend and I have known him since college.
Anyway, I initially thought the pubic-hair thing was just a coincidence, but for five years now I’ve found a single pubic hair on my toilet seat after every visit from him. He and his wife come over about once a week, and he always uses “my” bathroom (instead of my boyfriend’s, which is just as convenient), so it’s been pretty easy to isolate the source of the pubes. I realize that some people shed more than others, but he’s not a hairy person, so the shedding of several hundred pubic hairs in the exact same location is obviously not just by chance.
Because I’m not attracted to him, I don’t give much thought to his numerous hang-ups. But the pube thing has me a bit puzzled, if only because it’s so damn weird. I can’t decide if it’s a demented attempt at eroticism, a passive-aggressive insult, or something else entirely.—Puzzled by Pubes
Here’s an interesting, seemingly unrelated anecdote, PBP: I bought a new legal pad a few months ago, and when I went to use it a photo fell out. It was a picture of a man and a woman having sex. The image wasn’t some random porn shot clipped from a magazine; no, the people in the photo were average-looking, the photo was of poor quality, and it was clear from the angle that the man in the photo was holding the camera when the picture was taken. So how did it get in my legal pad?
There are freaks out there—and I use the word “freak” in the sex-positive sense—who get off on leaving pubes, photos, semen, and other sexually charged ephemera in places where innocent bystanders will happen upon them. Take, for instance, the perv—I use the world “perv” in the sex-positive sense—who sent me this note: “I like jacking off in strange settings,” this perv wrote, “because I get really turned on by leaving my cleanup refuse in open view for whoever may be next in line to use the bed, toilet, or what have you after me. For example, when I was on an overnight train I left my tissues in a magazine rack next to the bed. The idea of strangers handling my semen is just too much to resist.”
I suspect your college buddy derives a similar thrill from leaving his pubic hairs on your toilet seat. Is this about some secret attraction to you? Maybe. Maybe not. Like the perv who leaves his used tissues in magazine racks, the pube perv has no way of knowing that you even realize he’s placing stray pubes on your toilet seat. What’s more, I doubt very much yours is the only toilet seat he’s terrorizing. (Hairrorizing?) He’s probably doing it to dozens of his friends, and the gender and sexual orientation of his victims may be irrelevant.
So what do you do? Well, you could walk up to him in front of his wife holding one of his pubes with a pair of tweezers and say, “I believe this is yours” in a loud voice. He’d deny it, of course, forcing you to lay out your case—something that would be difficult to do without sounding as if you were sexually obsessed with him. It would be wiser, therefore, to tape one of his pubes to a piece of paper on which you’ve written, “Knock it off, perv,” and mail it anonymously to the hairrorist. Since he wouldn’t know which one of his numerous victims sent the note, you’d be doing everyone he knows a service.
Oh, and one last thought to help put things in perspective: I have a letter in my in-box from a man who indulges a similar impulse when he uses his friends’ bathrooms. But he doesn’t just leave his pubes behind: “I quickly rub one out,” he writes, “and then put a tiny amount of my come on my friends’ toothbrushes. I know it’s wrong, and I feel bad about it, but I can’t stop.” Those pubes seem positively benign in comparison, don’t they?—Dan
I recently started a new job. Because of the nature of this job, I am subject to random drug testing. If I were to fail even one drug test I would immediately be fired. Even worse, the government credentials needed to work in my field would be revoked. I would be unable to work and my career would be over. I do not do, and have never done, drugs. So why is this a problem? Well, I like to drink piss. It’s not something I do every day, but it’s an important part of my sexuality.
So, the big question: If I were to drink the urine of a person who had used drugs, would the chemical markers of his drug use turn up in my own pee, causing me to fail my drug test? As I do not always know my partner’s drug status, this is a serious concern of mine.—Piss Brings Risk
I’m sorry, PBR, but this very important part of your sexuality is putting your career at risk—but, hey, don’t take my word for it.
“I wanted to share this warning with your readers,” writes another piss-drinking perv. “My Master and I have a relationship in which he uses me, with my consent, as his urinal. Two days after I spent a couple days with my Him I was hauled in for a random drug test. I came back positive for marijuana, despite not having smoked pot in over 10 years. I am now suspended from my employment and may be dismissed.”
So what do you do, PBR? You either get into another line of work or you drink only the piss of folks you know to be clean and sober. If Narcotics Anonymous doesn’t run a support group specifically for piss tops, perhaps you should start one.—Dan
I wanted to second your advice for HORNYW, the woman whose husband is working to get over his impotence.
I was gay and 33, and I’d never been able to climax with a partner. I was so worried about performing that I couldn’t relax, and that of course made it worse. Then I met a man who was quite sexually experienced. The first few times we fooled around, I could tell he wanted for us both to climax, but he never pressured me. Finally we talked about it and I tearfully told him how I wasn’t able to climax. He said, “OK, we are not going to climax in bed no matter how either one of us feels for the next two weeks. Fooling around without climaxing is just fine with me.” Knowing that climaxing wasn’t on the menu allowed me to relax and just enjoy myself. A little before the two weeks were up, I was ready, and he sensed it and led me to climax.
So take it from me, HORNYW: If you take the pressure off, maybe you’ll both get what you want in the end.—Still With Mr. Patient and Thoughtful
Thanks for sharing, SWMPAT.—Dan Savage
Dan Savage’s new book, The Commitment: Love, Sex, Marriage, and My Family, is on sale now. Send your Savage Love questions to email@example.com.