Liberal boys: HOURS. Which, while awesome, could also be exhausting. Not once did a liberal guy pursue sex while I was having my period. One mention of that time of the month, and the hands were up—“say no more”—and we cuddled. Maybe I threw in a blow job. Republicans, though, shut down any protest. In the shower, lights off, was just as good to them. As long as everything was cleaned up as soon as possible, they were good to go. And absolutely no cuddling. My only gripe, really, with liberals and hippies was that they are too skinny by far. All that vegan eating and green tea lattes. After a while there is nothing left. Once after sex, a guy put on my jeans by mistake and was able to zip them up. I kicked him out and feasted on heavyset Republicans for weeks. I loved that feeling of weight on me, sometimes to the point where I couldn’t breathe. I was envious of how much space a man could take up and scorned the grown men who still looked like boys. * My biggest conquest was a city councilman. You’d know his name if I said it. But he’s more moderate now. I take the credit for that. I’d gone to a rally for a Democrat candidate who talked about this guy. Right-winger all the way: anti-gay, anti-women, antisocial services. So I went to one of his town hall meeting to plan my attack. He made it easy. A few weeks later he came into the coffee shop where I was working. I caught him staring at my chest. Didn’t take long after that. *
8
The more conservative they were, the more they turned me on. It wasn’t just the hypocrisy. Those that pounded on lecterns about the sanctity of marriage were most likely to have affairs. Those that decried same sex marriage were always the kinkiest. It was the power. Twenty minutes alone and I could get one to break every belief he said he held dear. There was always a moment, right before they guy came, I would look into his eyes and see the fear. The fear of the intensity of that moment—the overwhelming pleasure, the naked emotion, the fleeting truth of being alive. It was that moment. That’s why I did it over and over. If just one guy changed because they saw that truth—if one less gay man was beaten, if a woman was promoted instead of a man, if his next girlfriend got a fair deal in bed—then it was worth it. The chances were slim, I knew, but I had to keep going. I owed it to my sisters out there in the world.