Did you know you can get cooties from porn? Yep, you can. Now before you go skinny dipping in the gutter, I am not referring to Herpes, Gonorrhea, or Syphilis. And not Chlamydia or Crabs, either. I’m talking about the moment you say the word porn and every vanilla person within earshot runs for cover. Sheesh, it’s like when David Jones kissed Denise Smith on the playground. The poor girl was blacklisted for weeks. After all, no one wanted to catch cooties!
But alas, we are not children. We are adults. And yet, we still have the cooties mindset. We still have to deal with people who believe porn is disgusting and vile, people who hold the asinine belief that porn-lovers are every bit as disgusting and vile as the videos they watch. Really, though, we’re not. We watch porn because we want to. We watch it because we enjoy it. That doesn’t make us right or wrong. And it doesn’t mean we have some plague-like disease we’ll pass on to the first prudish person we see. It means we’re humans with hormones and a lusty libido.
Recently, this strange cootie phenomenon put me smack in an awkward situation. Picture it…I was sitting in a swanky hotel with my three girlfriends. We were chatting about who-knows-what, probably something dirty, when a strange woman approached us. She seemed nice enough so we asked her to sit down and join in the festivities. Not surprisingly, she did. The first few minutes of our exchange appeared to go smoothly. Then the worst thing happened. My PA mentioned porn. (gasps) Talk about a a disaster. The poor new girl paled. She started darting her eyes around as she clearly searched for an exit. Though, she didn’t get up. She continued to sit with us, talking in a stilted, squeaky voice. But she wasn’t really there. She was just trying to be polite long enough to make her escape. I knew it. And so did my friends. Of course, she eventually made some pithy excuse and fled us like a victim running from the axe murdering lunatic in a B-string slasher film.
Once she was gone, the four of us laughed about the prim and proper chick we’d scared the daylights out of. At that point, her revulsion and rejection was rather funny. But in retrospect, her horror wasn’t amusing, not in the least. The horrified look she gave us, the way she shied away, was a little offensive. It wasn’t like we’d done anything wrong. We’d done nothing out of line. No curses or insults had slipped from our lips. In my opinion, we’d been on our very best behavior, not that that is necessarily saying a whole lot. However, she’d treated us as if we were perverts playing a part in a freak show.
Granted, I’m a pervert. And true, I’m a one-woman freak show half the time. But those pervalicious personality traits have nothing to do with my love for porn or my being infested with cooties. They’re just icing on the cake.
So, what about you? Do you have porn cooties? Don’t tell anyone, but I kind of hope you do. XOXOXO!
Love and cherries,