Some 20-something told me a great story about banging on the Eiffel Tower. This girl gave me an intense 24-hour case of FOMO. That night, I lay awake regretting how I’d probably never top that. Just getting to the Eiffel Tower’s hard enough for most of us.
Then I wondered. Even if I had the opportunity, would I go through with it? Probably not. There’s a major risk of getting arrested.
After all, I hear that place’s packed 24/7.
And also, falling. Another risk.
These days, we feel a lot of pressure to lead enviable lives. Instagram has just irritated the itch that Hollywood started.
So I started thinking about all the places I’ll never have sex. It’s a long list, and I’m perfectly fine with that.
Of course, maybe you’ve had sex in one of these locations. Congratulations. I’m a little jealous. But not too much. Because beds are awesome. They remain my top pick. We invented them for a reason.
I’ll never have sex on a yacht.
So many movies show blissful love scenes on the decks of boats. In theory, it sounds fantastic. One of my friends has a brother who owns a yacht. So if I really set my heart on it, we could probably make this fantasy happen. I’ve also got some disposable income now. We could rent one. But I’m really thinking about it now. I’ve ridden on lots of boats, and I always kind of hated the experience. I’m not a water person.
I’ll never have sex in the mountains.
Wait a second. Actually, I’ve done that. In a cabin in the Rockies. It was great. Sorry. Moving on.
I’ll never have sex on the beach.
Again, I’m not a water person. The beach bores me. It doesn’t matter how many love scene clips on YouTube I stumble across. Watching sex on the beach turns me on. In reality, I have zero motivation to try. I’ve enjoyed some romantic walks on the beach. No fucking, though. Just think about where the sand winds up. I hate sand.
I’ll never have sex on a plane.
I’ve done my time in airports. Not once have I ever suspected sex was happening in my vicinity. Air travel is a miserable experience. My libido floats in the sewer until I’m home. Along with the rest of my mood. Besides, airplane bathrooms freak me out. When you flush, where does it go? Into the sky? Just so you understand, Delta bathrooms are one step above portable toilets. Most of us minimize our time there. Mile high club? No, thanks. Plus, there’s always the slight chance of snake attack.
I’ll never have sex in a palace.
When I turned 30, I did tour some actual ancient palaces in Spain. Sadly, I did that alone. Except not sadly. Sometimes, you have to adventure alone. And it’s better than sex. Besides, there were lots of cameras. Of course, you have to define “palace.” I’ve done it in some really nice hotel rooms.
I’ll never have sex in the shower.
Wet hair turns me off. I’m not kidding. Huge mood killer. That might be the only reason. If hair stayed light and fluffy when exposed to H20, I might be all for shower sex. Then again, that’s really just sex standing up. And…
I’ll never have sex on the Eiffel Tower.
I’m not kidding. You can fall. Or get arrested. Both, bad.
I’ll never have sex against a wall.
I’ve already gone to the gym once today. Can we please lie down? Or at least sit? I’m kind of tired.
I’ll never have sex in the ladies room.
See above. Restrooms are just Delta toilets on the ground, with better fixtures. And so many germs. Ew.
I’ll never have sex on the dance floor.
Feet. Think about the bottom of everyone’s shoes. You have no idea what those people walked through on their way here. Now, grinding. That works — sex with clothes on. And I guess if you can have sex standing up, in public, live your dream. Just please go somewhere else to finish.
I’ll never have sex in a barn.
Haystacks offer a little padding. But livestock. The smell of manure. Plus, all the noise. I’ll take a pass.
I’ll never have sex in the backseat.
Movies love to show young couples in the back of whatever sports car. Have you ever tried? Just making out poses challenges. Newsflash: most cars aren’t wide enough to accommodate your body’s full length. Fictional characters always references this kind of sex. Maybe if you’re in high school. With literally nowhere else to go. If you’re an adult, why bother? It’s going to give you a wicked backache. Just go home.
I’ll have sex in a bed.
I’ve got my preferences. That leaves one place. The bed. Lucky for me, beds are easy to find. Almost every household has one. Nine times out of ten, you’re five minutes away from extreme comfort.
Imagine sex before beds.
It’s not a world I want to contemplate for very long.
There’s only one reason location matters. One, maybe you’re a passionate person. So you take each other when the mood strikes. You love taking romantic risks. That’s great.
Here’s the thing. We love to imagine ourselves hanging in all kinds of exotic locations. Why? I’m not sure. We have imaginations.
But sometimes it’s more fun to imagine you’re having sex in some exotic locations, while having real sex on a bed.
Because imagination rocks, and beds are comfortable.
A problem crops up when exotic sex becomes a measuring pole for everyone else’s relationships health.
There’s nothing wrong with vanilla locations. Listen, sex on a bed is good enough. After all, we wouldn’t sleep in an airplane bathroom. We wouldn’t sleep on a beach. We don’t take naps on the dance floor.
If you’re like me, you’ve probably slept in your car once. Not fun. Am I right? You wake up partly deformed. So you know sex there wouldn’t be a whole lot of fun. Teenagers have sex in cars so their parents won’t catch them. It’s the only reason. You’re an adult. You have a bed. Use it.
Beds were invented for a very good reason. They’re comfortable. Sleep in beds. Use beds for sex. Couches, also acceptable.
There’s nothing wrong with you for preferring a cushioned surface for banging. It doesn’t make you boring, or predictable. Plus, I’m sure a selfie or sex tape filmed on your actual bed would still win a shit ton of Internet traffic. Exotic locations don’t matter.
Cool stories are great. You know what’s better? Sex on a king-sized bed. That’s what I’m talking about. So much room. So cushy.