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  • Robert Farago

The Dildo of Consequences


Sexperts reveal a major dating pitfall

It’s frequently said that the dildo of consequences often arrives unlubed. If it isn’t said frequently, it should be. It’s a straight-to-the-point variation on “actions have consequences.” Because they bloody well do, and they’re not always what you expect. Or want.

Take the latest dating pitfall allegedly affecting Gen Z: Premature Intimacy or PMI. Here’s how the truth tellers at nypost.com define it:

In essence, the term refers to the oversharing of mind, body and soul. Imagine you’re sitting across from your date at dinner, swapping facts about yourselves and critiquing the restaurant’s playlist. Suddenly, before you’ve even had time to digest the entrees, your casual first date begins talking about your detailed future plans or reaches over to plant a kiss on your lips. Pretty jarring image right?

Sounds like fun first date to me! Or an excellent scene for a rom-com, after the male protagonist dates a bunch of low-energy losers.

I’m thinking PMI more accurately applies to a recent date with a woman who immediately revealed her father had died four weeks previous. After her special forces boyfriend began stalking her. Before she’d lost her job for “caring too much.”

My date finished her confessional with a simple statement: “These days, I find dating repulsive.” The expensive Italian food dinging my credit card, not so much.

How about this one…

After a flirtatious schmooze at a local watering hole, my smart, funny, attractive date entered my condo, saw the view off the balcony, got out her laptop and began cam-girling.

Is it PMI if your date has intimacy with strangers on the Internet before turning her attention to you? I’d say yes, but there are plenty of men who’d disagree.

If these stories illustrate anything other than my ability to make really poor choices, it’s that PMI is sure to evoke the law of unintended consequences. It’s bound to lead to rejection and depression, or infatuation and stalking.

So why do people do it? “Relationship expert” and self-confessed Glee fan Jessica Alderson has a theory.

Some people have a fear of rejection or abandonment and believe that by opening up quickly they can create a strong bond. They may believe that by being vulnerable and sharing personal information in the early stages of dating, their date will see them as more desirable or trustworthy.

Ms. Alderson is over-thinking over-sharing. I suspect PMI is simple narcissism (explored in If Women Want to Walk Around Half-Naked...).

Yes, PMI purveyors want to be seen as desirable. In fact, they already believe, assume, expect and demand it.

But wanting to be perceived as trustworthy has nothing to do with it; anyone who spills their guts on a first date doesn’t give a shit about trust.

PMIers seek affirmation. Validation. But not from the listener. Not really.

Verbal PMI usually takes the form of monologuing, with little to no regard for the listener’s reaction. PMIers are like the bad guy giving his backstory to the trapped hero. Who escapes!

As would any man confronted with PMI. Unless he just wants sex, in which case he hears his date’s intimate confessions in the same way Peppermint Patty hears her teacher. And greets “too much” physical intimacy like a long lost friend.

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Are sex counselors counseling men to be the strong silent type and women to STFU? Heaven forbid! Here’s certified sex and relationship practitioner Georgia Grace’s recommendation:

Yes, it’s exciting when you start a new relationship, but it’s also important to have platonic love and friendships, to see your family and to make sure you’re going to work and moving your body in the way that you like to move it so that you still have a sense of self and it doesn’t get wrapped up or lost in this new relationship energy.

And don’t forget to floss!

While I don’t consider critiquing a restaurant’s playlist safe ground for a first date, if Ms. Alderson’s and Ms. Grace’s cautionary comments gets Gen Z to talk less and listen more, it’s a good thing.

Personally, I’m thankful PMI exists. It raises a big old red flag, reminding me not to provide ammunition to crazy people bent on my destruction. Again. Still. Fucking myself, so to speak.

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