I’m living with a twenty-eight year old virgin. That’s not right! Not a Mormon, not a religious thing, just plain stupid. You would think someone had sewn her vagina shut. Who in her right mind would willingly abstain from something that could give so much pleasure and pain at the same time? I asked that myself again and again. I just don’t get it. And neither does she.
She bakes cookies, watches nothing but reality TV and talks on the phone for hours with her parents from New Jersey.
She also has a severe case of OCD, so after I go to bed she would come out of her room, makes sure all the appliances are turned off and rewash any dishes I had washed. You would think I’m living with Rain Man.
Not only has she not had any sexual contact since we’ve been living together, she also rarely goes out at night. More important, she doesn’t like alcohol. There are two kinds of people I don’t trust: People who don’t drink and people who collect stickers.
I asked her once during an election if she could name the two presidential candidates. She said, “Duh, Gore and Bush”
I said, “Okay, and who’s Gore’s vice president?”
She said, “I’m not that stupid… Bush.”
Her room is covered in roses and ‘N Sync posters. You would think she hasn’t gotten her period yet. She takes a bath every night and never takes showers. She cried the first time she was pulled over by a cop. I explained to her that there is no reason to cry when getting pulled over – unless you’re coming directly from a crime scene.
And when we were living together on 9/11 and she was convinced it wasn’t a big deal because her father had told her everything would be all right.
I even tried to hire a male prostitute, but it turned out that even he found DumbDumb to stupid. He told me there was only so much he could here about Lion King.
So please?
Cut together from 'My Horizontal Life' by Chelsea Handler
Now I definitely need to go to sleep. I might have an hour more, but that will not change much if I just keep staying up.
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