ramz

An image came to my mind while discussing prostitution.

Food is a perfect simile for sex. Prostitution is like eating out at a restaurant. Everything is set for you. You go in, you make your pick, you eat your food, you pay and you leave. The restaurant is grateful for your business. The customer is always right, and if you don’t enjoy the meal, you don’t need to come back (or you could try something else the next time you’re there).

Sex with a non-professional is like making your food. You have to be in the mood for it. You have to go grocery shopping, possibly to more than one store. You need to get all the ingredients, take them home, clean and prepare them. You need to set up the kitchen, mix everything, check out the cookbook, set the table, and occasionally, “toss the salad” (for some people!). Your food is prone to criticism. After that, you always have to do the clean up.

The effort you put into it might be worth it, but there’s always the chance that the rice will be sticky, the meat will be burnt (ouch!) or the soup will be frigid… I mean, cold. On the other hand, if you get the right groceries, you can be as creative as you want, and making the food might be a lot of fun.

I had this gnocci with spinach, tomatoes and mozarella at this restaurant once. If I’ve tried to copy it once, I’ve tried to copy it a dozen times. The chef there has magic hands, I tell you. (And I’m actually talking about food, here…)

disclaimer: This blog and its author do not promote sex in any way. Pre-marital, marital or post-marital. Men, women, animals or socks. Sex is a vile, animalistic act. The next time you’re in the throes of passion, think of this: The allmighty is watching. He’s judging and taking notes. He’s omnipresent, that means he’s seen it all, and chances are, your performance is sub-par. You wouldn’t want to be nicknamed “minuteman” for eternity, would you?

Happy Saturday night hunting.