Tales From The DJ Booth: See You In Courtship

"Hey Ray, why don’t you write about all the sex abuse accusations going down in Hollywood? Isn’t that something adult publications need more of?" That’s the message I’ve been getting on Facebook, every time another celebrity is accused of doing terrible shit to some woman. To be honest, I’ve always believed that anyone involved in upper-level entertainment or politics is part of some sort of child sex ring (or, at least rented out a Corey or two during the ‘80s). But, when these stories start to pop up in circles not owned by Disney, my interest peaks. I’ve been on both sides of this issue, having been part of a well-justified witch hunt against a creeper, to being falsely accused of nonsense, by one of the women involved in said witch hunt.

After reflecting on years and years of really fucked-up sex, that has never once resulted in a court case or news headline, I realized that it’s been two decades since I’ve had to be reminded of the rules, specifically those related to consent. Anyone in their late teens to early thirties does not have the same fortune. Put simply, I’m wondering if Millenials and Gen Z have any idea what it’s like to be "in the moment," while under the sheets. So, I did some research (‘shrooms), reflected on what I found and came to the obvious conclusion: whether Hollywood, D.C. or West Burnside, men and women have forgotten how to interact, and only strip clubs can save them.

Hear me out...

Handbook For The Recently Accused

The discussion surrounding the #MeToo movement has brought some great points to the surface. Sexual assault is bullshit. False accusations are bullshit. Folks don’t like bullshit and there seems to be a lot of it, so let’s fix it. Whether or not you’re a woke-ass male feminist who thinks that anything less than sober, enthusiastic consent constitutes rape, or a woke-ass male feminist who was recently accused of rape, all sides can agree that the definition of what constitutes "rape" has become dangerously ambiguous.

Take, for instance, the controversy surrounding well-known male feminist comedian and recently accused creeper, Aziz Ansari. A woman who had been on a date with Aziz recounted a tale to Babe.net that is too long to print here. In short, "Grace" (not her real name) claims that Aziz (perhaps his real name) and her shared a night of violently awkward sex. She regretted this sex, questioned whether or not it was consensual at the time, took her story to print and the rest is predictable history. The tone surrounding nearly every Facebook discussion was split evenly between, "This woman suffered worse than Anne Frank" and "This woman was asking for it, what did she expect going home with a handsome, powerful, alpha figure like the guy from Master Of None?" This is the discussion that surrounds every public accusation of sexual assault. To hell with nuance and gray areas, it’s either true love or sexual assault—no middle ground needed. Hell, the one thing that the genders appear to agree on is the notion that it’s always the other one’s fault. But, here I am, the radical centrist, suggesting that it’s not as simple as witchhunting and slut-shaming.

As a logical, rational person over the age of 35, I can’t say I’m not confused. I’m used to the good old days, when a girl would ask me to choke her during sex, so she could cum faster, but later on, when I didn’t want to pay for dinner, I’d be told that I was a selfish prick. There would be conflict, but none of it ever led to accusations. Flash forward to the current year and you’ll read think pieces on how any sign of regret after sex constitutes rape, or how not sleeping with someone because they’re plus-sized or trans is a sign of hate— on the same website. "Don’t like my body? That’s a hate crime. Like my body? Hands off, it’s my property." This is why I have all but stopped dating (I like to know the rules of the game I’m playing) and am waiting for the perfect androgynous, used-to-be-religious, coffee-cart-chick-turned-budtender to walk into my life, before even thinking about sex again. And, I’m not alone—I know tons of straight dudes who have all but given up on women. But, do you know who hasn’t? Rich, powerful creepers from the film industry and/or political realm. So, as long as the only people having sex are predators and victims, the "men are scum and women are sluts" narrative will continue. Which, to be honest, is bullshit. Mainly, because the solution is so fucking simple.

Landlines, Fax Machines & Second Base

I have a radical hypothesis regarding why there seems to be such a tense environment in the land of sex and dating: what if—and, hear me out here—we can learn from our parents? You know how "kids these days" are too busy sexting each other on PokeTube or whatnot, to enjoy the whole "courting process" myth that our ancestors believed in? Perhaps, just perhaps...there is a gray area between one-night stands and radical, traditionalist marriage. And, here comes the hard part...I propose that the absence of this gray area is exactly what’s generating the daily "Naive, Powerful Male Accused Of Acting Like A Naive, Powerful Male" news stories (as well as localized versions of this played-out bullshit).

Put simply, I hypothesize that the removal of the courting process (and, to some extent, traditional gender roles in heterosexual relationships) has led to a complete inability for the current generation of young adults to foster normal, healthy sex lives (and, I need to clarify that by "normal, healthy sex lives," I mean sex that doesn’t end up in the fucking headlines, that’s all...your lifestyle is fine, as long as it doesn’t produce mugshots). Further, I propose that if women accept that men just want to fuck them most of the time, they could possibly avoid the shock they receive when a movie producer asks them to unzip for a role in Smurfs 4 that’s clearly going to another actress.

Now, it seems odd for someone who works in the sex industry to be championing courtship and relationships. One-night stands, sex-positivity, consent and kink are all wellrespected by myself and anyone who writes for, reads or otherwise endorses this publication (or, any other sex-worker-focused media). But, unlike most of society, the sex industry is where firm, verbal consent of an enthusiastic nature is always a given—if you’re fucking someone’s wife at the sex club or going to town on your co-worker during a porn shoot, you better be up-to-date on your consent talk, STI history, etc. We are the exception, not the rule—not every sexual encounter falls into the poly lifestyle, swinger club or hook-up culture. There are no bouncers or security guards in the average person’s bedroom. Open sexuality is fun, sure, but lots of regular, non-sex-industry folks are just looking to "date."

What’s that, you ask? Oh, my bad...

So, "dating" is a thing that people over 35 used to do, back when we weren’t able to learn everything about a stranger after an hour of light social media stalking. Often times, we had to walk two miles, in the snow, both ways, just to ask a someone what their favorite band was. Plus—and, I know this sounds insane—we’d often engage in a week or two’s worth of "phone calls" (think text messages, but with your mouth), just to see if we’d vibe with our potential crushes. This phase is known as the "courting process," during which time, all sorts of problematic, gendered behavior and archaic traditions are used to determine compatibility between two people. I know...ancient and outdated.

Let me drop the sarcasm for a few sentences and spell it out: not everyone is capable of casual sex, and because of this, grown adults have no idea how to interact in the bedroom. Although the sexual revolution is an awesome (and, arguably necessary) stage of societal evolution, the one thing that we’ve lost is an appreciation for traditional, basic concepts of courtship.

I can already hear the accusations of "heteronormativity" or "conservative bullshit," but, trust me—these complaints aren’t coming from the LGBT community or classical liberals— they’re coming from jaded Liberal Studies graduates, who are experiencing cognitive dissonance after wasting their youth on "not needing anyone else" and "playing the field." I know, because I’m speaking from experience; seeing happiness on the faces of two people who don’t appear to be gearing up for BDSM and group sex makes me jealous. I wish I could get off on vanilla monotony. Sometimes, the traditional ideas are worth acknowledging—you don’t have to be a devout Christian to agree that murder is bad and wine is good.

So, much like I don’t want the yuppies at Denny’s giving me and my two tattooed dates dirty looks, I’m not gonna shake the problematic stick at people with weird fetishes, such as "appreciation for second base" or "commitment." I can respect single, working, non-committal feminists who have no plans on supporting patriarchal concepts of marriage, and at the same time, I can respect my sister for spitting out a kid every time she’s had intercourse with the guy who took her virginity after proposing a year prior.

What I cannot support, though, is living among adult-aged children who do not understand reality.

Men Are From Earth, Women Are From Earth

There exists a gray area between "I know they’re asking for it" and "I regretted it, so it must be rape" and that area is discovered through courtship. Let’s use the Aziz Ansari and Louis C.K. incidents as an illustration; in both cases, the "I didn’t know she wasn’t going to enjoy it" excuse is made. Yes, men aren’t mind readers and women should not expect us to be. Still, successful, well-adjusted adults have no fucking clue how to behave around the opposite sex. And how would they? Hashtags are not intended to be legal or ethical advice. "Yes means yes" is a phrase invented by someone who has never had a conversation with a woman. Guys need to learn the subtle art of decoding what she means, when she says loaded words, like "fine" or "okay" (these are translated to "no" and "no," by the way). Also, get this: if you date someone for a few months, you tend to find out whether or not they like to be throat fucked while watching you masturbate. On the rare chance that I do opt for onenight stands, I make sure there’s at least a prior one-afternoon stand in which to discuss boundaries, as well as a morning-after stand to discuss which Walgreen’s still sells the cheap Plan B.

We are so far down the "everything is a social construct" rabbit hole, that even suggesting women or men generally have nuanced, tough-to-decode (but, predictable and hardwired) sexual behaviors, is taboo. In progressive cities like Portland or Seattle, it’s not easy to have open, honest discussions about traditional gender roles, without being accused of anti-feminist, transphobic mansplaining. But, faux-news blogs like Buzzfeed are not good places to learn about sex. Uber-progressive and/or alt-right SubReddits are not the same thing as actual Sex Education courses, taught by people with degrees that don’t end in the word "studies." Fact is, male and female courtship exists, all throughout nature and far beyond our realm of Tinder and Netflix. I believe the Bloodhound Gang had a song about this.

Everything I Know About Dating, I Learned From Strip Clubs

Although there is minimal hope left, there still exists one place where men and women can learn how to act, while engaging in romantic behaviors and subtly acknowledging the importance of gender roles associated with male-and-female interactions: strip clubs.

That’s right. I am suggesting that attending strip clubs will teach any straight or bi man to be a decent man, capable of understanding women in a sexual context, while avoiding trips to jail and/or TMZ. Dudes, from all walks of life, should ditch the life coach and just get as many private dances as possible. No, guys are (probably) not going to end up having sex with a dancer. However, they will learn nuance, consent, how to talk to a woman whose sweaty breasts are showing, etc. When a dude is not getting private dances, he can go to the bar and buy a shot for a dancer, tip her for her time, then ask her to tell him what he’s doing wrong with the girl he just met (and how to get her into bed).

In fact, if you’re a real baller, you can practice the art of courtship, directly, with any dancer you choose! Learn how and when to give gifts without coming off as creepy. Understand how to cope with jealousy, as your dancer of choice will occasionally spend time with other, more attractive and resourceful customers. Or, what the hell, just come into the club with a few hundred bucks, sit at the rack and learn to keep your fucking hands to yourself, while the dancer on stage gives you a good show. The best part? Since you aren’t (legally) allowed to use sex as an endgame or goal with dancers at a strip club, there is no fear of rejection. In fact, every night you attend a strip club, you will expect to leave alone, knowing that the woman you just finessed has no obligation to sleep with you.

Surprisingly enough, by interacting with stark naked women covered in tattoos, guys will learn the art of subtlety. No one walks to the stage, holding a dollar and saying, to the dancer, "I am giving this to you, so that I may stare at your breasts—is that okay?" On the same token, one can learn a lot about entitlement and consent from strippers: no one gets a lap dance and insists, "You just took the time to grind on my dick, that must mean you want sex" (at least not without getting tossed out of the club). Strippers are surprisingly honest, for being so quick to fall into a category that some people would call "fake." Sure, you will get a few that will lie to you, just to flatter your ego and get paid, but that’s exactly what I’m talking about— you will find those women in the real world, too! See how this all works?

Ladies, you can learn about men from talking with strippers. You’ll find out that, regardless of how woke, feminist, progressive, loving, down-with- Snapchat or familiar with the Hunger Games franchise guys are, men are only that way because they want to fuck you. However, second and third bases exist and they’re not covered in snakes and AIDS. There are plenty of tricks and tips for dealing with the penile-endowed and dancers would love to share them with you. Ask strippers what keeps their best regulars coming back. What do they share with regulars, that they would not share with first-time customers? How can a dancer tell when a guy is getting too aggressive? What does she say to ensure that boundaries are clear, but that the fantasy and sexuality is not reduced?

It’s The Current Year

I don’t know how many times I’ve screamed from the mountain tops about how strippers can save us, but consider this one of my loudest attempts to do so. Everyone, from Hollywood, CA to Hollywood Transit Center, can learn a thing or two from a naked woman—one who will be up front about using sexuality to obtain resources—which is what happens in nature, regardless of social constructs, hashtags or current-year postmodern bullshit. Most importantly, strippers understand the art of the tease, which is exactly what courtship involves. As Dr. King once said, you can learn a lot about the content of your character, by listening to someone with minimal covering on their skin.

Remember, there is nothing wrong with one-night stands and casual sex. There is also nothing wrong with fast food. Folks just need to learn that the best restaurants require the longest waits, and if you’re too hungry in a nice restaurant, you’ll forget about manners. This may sound radical, but if a guy slows his roll a bit and gets to know a woman, chances are he will find out things like whether or not she enjoys deep-throating mediocre actors or watching balding gingers jerk off. And, if women accept that men aren’t mind-reading altruists, perhaps there will be less "met for coffee, agreed to give sex a try, and an hour later, wound up traumatized" op-eds in print.

Our society has lost the ability to recognize nuance, subtlety and gray areas. Put it this way, you’re reading about middle-ground centrism and rational approach to consensual sex from a free porn magazine, that proudly offers advertising space to escort services and horse porn videos. Meanwhile, Sexuality Weekly is printing a checklist of things that, if not addressed during drunk sex, could lead to a felony. What’s next? Juggalos marching on Washington for civil rights? Fred Durst talking sense into Donald Trump on Twitter? Lena Dunham defending incest? Oh, wait. That already happened.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, 2018. Your phone can find you someone to sleep with using complex algorithms and GPS positioning, but you won’t have any fucking clue what to do with them when their Lyft drops them off at your apartment. Progress is funny like that.