Macho men and desperate women
Still no answers to my “woman who sleeps around and doesn’t want anything from a man” ad. Does it mean there is no such a thing? A Cyprus-based divorced friend of mine, very experienced in female versus male relations, maintains that at the bottom of the issue lies a fundamental contradiction of aims. “They want to have sex with us and move on,” she says. “We want to get married. This is the core of the game. There is no platform on which we can communicate.”
But famous half Cypriot British artist Tracey Emin disagrees. “The idea of one week in bed having mad, beautiful, unadulterated, unconditional sex,” she writes in the Independent. “Oh God, what I would do for that. And that’s when I started to cry. Would I swap all my morals, beliefs, my way of life for that? For years now, I have been living like a fucking nun. I set up so many rules and regulations. And I stick to them. There has to be some parameters, some kind of fence, otherwise I think I would be totally out of control. I just felt it was wrong for me to keep having sex! Now I have to question what I believe in, how much is belief and how much is a habit? Have my morals become a system just to make my life more palatable or is it really a good way for me to live?”
Fair enough, Emin writes her confessions after watching D H Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover on TV during a sleepless night so maybe that is the reason for her wild dreams, but interestingly she then proceeds to worry about guilt. So the woman who famously created an art work of her bed and used condoms wants to be laid and feels bad about it? Sorry but I am still not getting it.
On the macho front, I read in this magazine a week ago that nowadays if you are a man and want to have some fun instead of having sex with a woman who wants other things from life than you, you can just buy yourself an interactive game which switches on when you urinate on it.
The excuse for this creation is the fact that men often can’t focus on their target when in toilet and they make a mess out of it. So now designers have created a pressure-sensitive display pad that any male can place in his urinal (a really small thing, the article says) and attempt to hit it with his “stream of yellow subconsciousness”. Apparently it saves on cleaning costs. Gosh, Marcel Duchamp would laugh at it but I am sure that Cypriot males, well-known for their maturity, love of electronic gadgets and weakness for gambling, will invest thousands of pounds into enhancing their concentration and peeing powers.
Funnily enough, I seem to remember that famous firm Arthur Anderson had a similar idea years ago when doing a waiters’ performance report at one of the most exclusive restaurants in London. About a month after the conclusions of the report had been implemented one of the restaurant’s regular customers went there for lunch and while waiting for his soup saw that all the waiters had five to ten spoons sticking out of their pockets. He calls his waiter and asks him about the phenomenon.
“Sir, I must congratulate you on your perceptivity,” answers the waiter. “Well, as you know we had Arthur Anderson consulting us on our efficiency and their experts found out that we were losing a lot of time going to kitchen and fetching spoons for customers after they had dropped theirs. So we were told to carry a few spare ones with us all the time to improve our speed.”
While the waiter is talking the man sees that he also has a chain going out of his pocket and disappearing into his trousers so his next question is about the chain.
“Sir,” answers the waiter, “your attention to details is truly amazing. Well, Arthur Anderson’s experts also concluded that we were wasting a lot of time on washing our hands every time after we went to toilet so they advised us to stop using our hands while urinating and instead have a chain attached to our penises and pull them out in such a manner.”
After a moment of silence the customer asks: “That’s all great but how do you put them back in afterwards?”
“Well, I don’t know about the others, Sir,” answers the waiter. “But I use a spoon.”
