Homebody Talks Dirty – Part One

Hang respectability. Let’s talk sex brothas and sistas!

So the idea for this blog post originated when I realized that a friend of mine had a little seizure in his head every time the word ‘sex’ was mentioned. Well, that’s not entirely true. Two of my married friends casually threw in a teaser: ‘Oh we were having sex so we didn’t have time to have tea with you,’ and he jerked spasmodically, covered his ears and walked away. When we asked him if he was feeling okay, he said he could handle the idea of sex, but TMI (Too-Much-Information) like that about people he knew gave him a visual image in his mind, which he really could do without.

So my married friends had a blast teasing him and springing random bits of unwarranted information on his blushing little ears while I mused about my experience with sex. Or the visualization of it. I realized that part of the reason I was a prude was because of the manner in which I found out about what sex was in the first place.

Flashback to sixth grade. Future homebody, the epitome of innocence, was merrily day dreaming in the school bus when her YOUNGER friends started talking about sex. Taboo topic. Ears perked up. Looked behind.

‘Sex is so disgusting isn’t it,’ J, a little fifth-grade midget says.

‘Totally,’ homebody agrees.

‘Too bad our parents had to have sex.’

Homebody freaks out. She jumps out of her seat, bangs head on school of the bus and blacks out. Wakes up and sees friend’s concerned face hovering above her. Springs up and says, ‘YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”

‘Huh? Take what back?’

‘MY PARENTS DID NOT HAVE SEX. THEY ARE PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE PEOPLE.’

‘Um, Shazaf…..’

‘HOW CAN YOU BE SO DISGUSTING? SO GROSS! SO TERRIBLE AS TO MALIGN MY POOR PARENTS! THEY ARE NOT LOOSE!’

‘Dude, you do know that sex is necessary for people if they want to have children.’

‘NO IT IS NOT!’

‘Oh I get it! You’re joking with me!’

‘NO I AM NOT!’

‘Listen, I’m not lying. People have to do ‘it’ to have kids. Why else do you think all married people have children? Do you actually think we came with a stork?’

‘NO WE CAME IN A BASKET FROM HEAVEN FROM GOD!’

Meanwhile, all my seniors and juniors have collapsed into hysterical fits of laughter. I turn red in the face, thank God that my stop has come and get off. I march inside and tell my puzzled mother that I am disappointed with her behavior and that I need my space right now. I go to the study, take out the encyclopedia where diagrams tell me that reproduction requires the disgusting merging of unmentionables we call sex. And then I get the image of my parents. Together. Like that. And I start crying. I go on a three-day fast and have nightmares. I stop talking to everyone until my friend sits me down and tells me it’s quite okay for married people to have sex. After a month, I have accepted the facts of life.

And then I did what every new student of sexual education does: I write a dirty story to explore sex in writing (because homebody had no other avenues to take advantage of) I write a story about an illicit encounter with a thin woman and a fat man, Homebody is embarrassed for two days. But then realization dawns – the trauma of hearing ‘parents’ and ‘sex’ in the same sentence has made my brain lock down all images. Even today I can’t visualize people having sex. Never. Nada. I think it’s a survival technique my brain created, with the result that I am now totally cool with the topic of sex. Because it has now become completely intellectual in my mind. I’m woman-of-steel-sexual-nerves.

So here’s a tip to my TMI-shy friend: just imagine them at it enough times, you’ll get so sick of passing out, you’ll be immune to it.