How’s this for weird. I used to figure that people (OK mainly men, do they count as people?) who talked about sex all the time didn’t get any. Working in a male, workshop environment for much of my career, as junior grease monkey, all the way up to a managerial position I’d seen and heard it all.
Not that I’m criticising those people. They are obviously sexual beings, they must be to think about it all the time. But for whatever reason, lack of partner or disinterested partner, they weren’t getting any, or not enough, or they were more adventurous than their partner. Talking about it was a better option than getting wound up about their unfulfilled sexual aspirations.
I’ll give you a few examples.
The first is mentioned here, in a post I wrote a while ago. I knew another guy who constantly went on about sex, the girls he’d seen walking past the open doors of the workshop, what a stud he was … he worked for the company next door and would wander in at lunch while we were eating our sandwiches. Not to put too fine a point on it he got right on our tits. Every ludicrously exaggerated statement from his mouth was accompanied by rolling eyes and wry smiles from the other lads in the workshop. It transpired that his own colleagues knew he was thoroughly hen-pecked at home. Sad in a way that he felt he had to pretend. He wasn’t sad in himself, just intensely irritating because of the enormous piles of crap he’d talk when trying to impress us, but sad that his wife obviously dominated the relationship and wasn’t matched to him sexually.
In contrast I worked with another guy a few years before that, who was popular with the ladies and the entire workshop talked about him. He just wandered round with silly grin on his face for most of the week as tales of his latest sexual escapades were recounted around the firm. His nickname? “Rhino”, because he always had the horn. Don’t blame me, I didn’t think it up.
There’s also the opposite of the sexually exaggerating individual of course. The one who says they’re not interested. While I accept that some people don’t want sex, don’t think about it a lot or whatever, I’m always suspicious of people who deny their sexuality.
I’m thinking of a pair of women who worked in an admin office at my firm a few years ago. I always thought of them as Laurel and Hardy. Not because they wore bowler hats and had a tendency to do house moves on the side and have hilarious incidents with pianos, no, because they were like a pair of bookends. They would talk to each other and bounce conversation between themselves like a well rehearsed vaudeville act. It was a show for the benefit of the rest of the office. The subject of the show, as often as not, was how they weren’t really bothered about sex and had their respective husbands on “rations”.
Looking back I suppose they could have been screwing each other’s partner on the side, or even swinging together, with all the talk being to cover it up. Funny the games we play.
I do remember working (briefly) in the same office as a rather nice mature office administrator who loved to rub up against the salesmen when they came in for their periodic sales meetings. She would flirt with them mercilessly on the phone when they called, perhaps attracted by their enthusiasm, youth, vigour and charm/patter (delete as applicable). On the day of the sales meetings she would dress up as provocatively as she could, wear false nails that made typing impossible and have spent a fortune on getting her hair done.
As I remember her marital status was indeterminate, although I think separated and on the prowl summed it up. I never did find out if any or all of the sales team got to sample any of what she so obviously offered them
I wonder if it’s just a British thing, being that dishonest about your sexuality. Maybe dishonest is a harsh word, misrepresenting your sexuality and sex life might be more accurate. Why is it that the truth about their own sexuality frightens some people so much?