Dating Diet: Run, Baby, Run

By Anthony Paull

I get it. I understand that after you√ïve suffered the wrath of your first, second, or third heartbreak, you√ïre sick of the bullshit and want to sit home alone with your lube and take matters into your own hands. You know you√ïll get lucky, and you know that no matter what, you won√ït have to endure the hollowness of being screwed over after some random loser sprinkles his love-juice all over your back.
I√ïve been there. I√ïve felt that hollow sensation inside, the feeling like my ribs could snap like twigs for breathing too heavy after being jilted by a supposed loved one. Scared to date again, I considered calling it quits. Maybe I could find a long, hard salami at the deli counter to keep me happy. I√ïve thought this. At least I√ïd have a stiff piece of meat to rock and roll me to bed at night. Something that won√ït say, √íDude, by the way, I√ïm married,√ì in the morning.
God, if only life were that easy.
The problem is I√ïve never been one, no matter how jaded, to say no when newfound love presents itself. Never underestimate the power of a fresh penis, that√ïs my theory. For me, a perfectly new penis can pound away the misery of a past relationship any day.
I wish my friend, Pete, felt the same. You see, Pete√ïs placed himself on a dating diet. Having been scorned time and time again, he tells me that he no longer wants to take risks with his heart. Battered and bruised, he dodges any form of intimacy. He flat-out refuses to go to the club, and if he meets a hot guy at the gym, the dumb-bell flinches, only to go home in order to pump the pillow on his bed into oblivion.
√íLucky pillow,√ì I told him. √íBut beware. No matter how deep you bury your dick inside of it, you can never hide from that scary thing called love."
Pete didn√ït believe me. That is, until he met Seth at a work conference. A big wig from the big city, Seth had the look and the lines of a true salesman. Sure, Pete was attracted to him. Still, he kept a reserved manner, only to exchange his business card because Seth was harmless √ë a great looking man, yes, but a man from another state that posed no immediate threat.
At first, it was innocent enough. For three weeks, the two began to e-mail one another, writing down the inane things we all share until we get to the truly important matters. In other words, stats.
I can just hear Pete now. √íSo, this is going to sound bad, but um, how big is it? Does it have a name? Would you like me to plop on it and pretend I√ïm on a pony ride at the carnival?√ì
Soon, nightly phone calls began. Before the heavy breathing was initiated, they complained about the hardships of work, and how corporate America sucked, sucked, sucked. That led to Seth asking for a suck. Yes, that√ïs when phone groaning was initiated, and Pete happily obliged, thrilled to be having ear sex with a man more than 1,000 miles away.
After all, he could never develop feelings for a man he never sees, right? He√ïs completely safe. How can you fall in love with a man over your cell phone? Even if you√ïre brave enough to shove the phone up your ass, you can√ït really form a connection, right?
Wrong. Last night, Pete phoned me in a mad panic because Seth had failed to call him for the past two days. Like most men lucky enough to get their rocks off without a fight, Seth became bored. Although he enjoyed all the heavy breathing, he felt that he and Pete weren√ït at the same place. It√ïs best to remain friends, he decided. He just didn√ït want to talk every night, or every week per se.
Now, Pete√ïs heartbroken for the millionth time. He thought hiding his voice behind a phone √ë his face behind a computer √ë would allow him a sanctuary to take risks with his heart without suffering any real consequences.
√íHow did I fall in love?√ì he cried.
√íBecause you had it too easy,√ì I told him.
With Internet love and phone sex, there√ïs no responsibility attached. You can paint your invisible boyfriend into any man you want him to be. A saint, a super lay √ë he√ïll be whatever you make up in your frightened, little mind. And you√ïll never fight, not once. After all, you√ïll never have to worry about him coming up with his half of the rent. But beware: You√ïll never have the great make-up sex that comes after a great fight either. Spooning in bed will be but a dream, and so will sampling your lover√ïs lips after a long day of work. Pete, this is love. Nobody said falling is easy. Just open your eyes next time. And I promise, if you plummet, I√ïll catch you.