Ken & Ariel

Dear K&A,

My girlfriend and I have been together for close to two months now, and I love her with all of my heart.  Unfortunately, there’s one thing about her that I just can't get acclimated too. She’s the self-proclaimed “girl” in the group of guys. Yes, that’s right, she has just as many if not more guy friends than I do. Just yesterday I called her to see what she was up to only to discover she was going “out for dinner and drinks with Pat,” some long-time guy friend of hers who apparently just got back from fighting in Iraq. This isn’t the first time she’s gone out with just one guy friend, either. Is this something that I should be worried about?

Ken Says: Whoa, whoa. First things first: Some dude just got back in from a war and one of the first things he needs to do is take your girlfriend out for drinks? That, my friend, is what we specialists call “a red flag.” Especially when you consider that he likely spent the last couple years of his life toting heavy artillery through a desert and living a pussy-free existence. But the bigger question here is: can men and women be friends without fucking? Now, from the guy’s perspective, I am utterly convinced that we cannot. Unless the female friend in question is 400 pounds, rife with infections, or Hilary Clinton, we, as men, are going to want to bang her. It’s just the way we’re designed. We’ve been hot-wired to toss our seed in as wide a circumference as possible during our limited time on this earth. And if there’s an even reasonably attractive woman hanging out with us, drinking and socializing, there will inevitably come that point in which we begin to wonder what it would be like to shag her. Sure, there are some women who think this way as well. But not all of them; women are much better at distinguishing boundaries between the “friends” camp and the “hot damn I have to fuck him” camp. Men just don’t give shit one. If it’s cute and available, we’re gonna hit it if offered the chance.

So I guess it comes down to how you see things. If your perspective is different from mine, and you feel that men can go hang and drink with women and keep their hands on the table and their thoughts on, say, hockey fights and hot wings, then God bless ya. Just kick back and relax and get ready for a winter full of “sorry, I’m busy. The lacrosse team wants to take me to an off-campus kegger.” But even if you trust her, if you’re the sorta guy who’s gonna worry about who she’s drinking with or dining with or fending off the advances of, then just spare yourself a lot of stress and move on to something else.

Ariel Says: It’s too bad “Pat” wasn’t short for “Patricia,” because then you’d think Pat was a bad-ass and probably has a killer GI Jane bod. Ain’t it amazing how the simple addition of a penis can screw with your head? Look, your girlfriend has the right to choose who she’s friends with, and who she dates (which is you.) That’s right dude, she chose you. So I don’t think you need to worry. It takes a confident, secure man to date someone with male friends, and I do believe you’re up to the task. However (now get ready for the caveat), I do suggest that you keep your eyes and the lines of communication open. If all of her free time is taken up with her friends (male or female) and you are relegated to a sporadic Tuesday night or Sunday afternoon, you may want to rethink the relationship.  Because, hey, you’re a cool, confident dude, but you’ve also earned the privilege of first refusal as her main squeeze. Finally, if you want to be a real dick about it, apply for the busboy position at your local neighborhood Hooters and see how she feels about you hanging out with your new “friends” after work.

Ken/Ariel:

What is the distinction between "Kinky" and "Perverted"? Is there a line? Have either of you crossed that line? What was the kinkiest thing you've done, and what's the most perverted thing you've done? Can you ever go back to "Kinky" once the "Perv" line is crossed? Just curious.

Ariel Says: I believe there was a time when “kinky” and “perverted” meant the same thing. You know, when Leave it to Beaver actually referred to a TV show and “making love” meant whispering sweet nothings a chaste four inches from your lover’s ear. Now, in our cynical, desensitized society, kinky means the brightly lit, Disney-esque Hustler store on Sunset, and perverted means you’ll be busted shortly on Dateline NBC’s “To Catch a Predator” segment. So, no, I haven't crossed that line, and I ain’t touching “perverted” (or a pervert, for that matter) with a ten-foot pole. But I’ll be happy to expound on “kinky.” Let’s see, there was the time I had sex on the roof of the Hyatt and the hot wax spilled on the tar shingles and I had sticky black gunk stuck to my ass for weeks. Or the time I insisted that my boyfriend call me “Alice” and I called him “Mel” and he chased me with his spatula. Or the time me and an entire cadre of former professional cheerleaders decided to re-enact Apocalypse Now wearing nothing but lace bobby socks and strategically-placed “Support our Troops” ribbons… all quite normal, really. By the way, to answer your last question: Hell-to-the-N-O.

Ken Says: I don’t know if anyone will ever agree to what “kinky” and “perverted” entail, but here’s my take. The term “kinky” tends to evoke experimentalism; for example, the use of handcuffs or roleplaying (“the cop and the cocaine-fueled hooker” is a good one) or fifty metric tons of Scotts Anti-Weed Fertilizer to liven things up in the bedroom. “Perverted,” on the other hand, seems a bit more deep-rooted. Like only desiring women who look like your Aunt Bessie or insisting that the only way sex works for you is if it takes place in a twelve-foot fiberglass tank filled with grape soda and electric eels. But, as with so much in life, these things can be so personalized and unique that your chances of finding anyone who, say, shares your affinity for dressing up as a Minnesota Vikings cheerleader and pressing your balls in a waffle iron are pretty unlikely. I once dated a girl who got off on straddling my face with her pants on, then asking me to “chew” my way to Glory Road. Needless to say, the idea of eating a pair of pants wasn’t quite what I had in mind at the start of the evening, so things unraveled pretty quickly. All I can really give you in this department is the following handy tip: If a girl takes you back to her place and insists that her two roommates join in, that’s kinky. If one of those roommates is a wild boar or Jim Belushi, that’s perverted.

Need fake advice? Send your questions to kenandariel@barstoolsports.com. For more half-assed ruminations, visit www.kenandariel.com.

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