Popular opinion: sex is great.
Slightly less popular opinion that is nonetheless accurate: sex is weird, sometimes gross, and every once in a while, downright embarrassing.
So your body made a sound that you haven’t once heard in your twenty-something years of existence. Real names were mistakenly replaced with ex’s, celebrities, or that crazy hot English teacher you had in 8th grade. Bodily fluids that weren’t invited to the party decided to crash mid-sex like the fucking Kool-Aid man. We all have that story that we relive with vivid intensity at 3:00 in the morning when we can’t sleep, and if you don’t – what do you even talk about at brunch?
But guess what? Shit happens, figuratively but also sadly sometimes literally. Lucky for you, we have advice for getting yourself out of those sticky (pun absolutely intended) situations. For more tips and hilarious stories, check out the new series Not Safe with Nikki Glaser, Tuesdays (TONIGHT!) at 10:30/9:30c on Comedy Central and on the CC app.
Sometimes we go out with the sole intention of bringing someone home. On these nights our room is clean, our body is prepped, and our focus is laser honed like some natural byproduct of Adderall and the intense desperation born of 3 months of celibacy.
Other nights, the stars look down fondly upon us and let a moderately attractive, probably-not-murderous investment banker fall into our laps and the euphoria/six vodka sodas we consumed over the past two hours makes us forget a few vital details. Such minor things like the fact that it’s laundry day and underneath your flawless ensemble you’re rocking a once-beige bra from senior year of high school and a pair of bikini briefs so eroded by the sands of time that the waistband is just a strip of rubber hanging by a single fiber.
What? It’s not like you were expecting this dramatic turn of events. Will it stop you from your night of no strings attached sex? No way. It will however, require some quick maneuvers on your part.
Did you have this untimely epiphany while you were still at the bar? If so, stop by the bathroom before you head out, take off your underwear, and shove it as far into the depths of your purse as possible. Be careful not to pull a Britney circa 2006 on the way into your Uber. Worst case, you can use his bathroom to “freshen up” and follow the same directions.
Not so lucky to remember that you wore literal bloomers out until you feel that button on your jeans pop? The only plan of attack left is to completely bullshit your way out of it. Fact: men know nothing about women’s apparel. They like to pretend that they do, and they are wrong. If he’s enough of an asshole to comment on your underwear situation, kindly inform him that these are from the La Perla ready-to-wear 2016 Spring collection and HOW FUCKING DARE HE. Then recover from your violent outburst by ripping them off and jumping on him. Works every time.
This one goes out to all the big-chested ladies out there. Or maybe the ones with smaller boobs and ill-fitting bras. Or the glorious few of you who have zero qualms going to fucking town on a plate of nachos in a low cut top. Honestly, I don’t care how it happened. All that matters is that someone just took off your bra and a handful of pita chips fell out of it.
Moment ruined? Hell no. You just supplied your hookup with two of this world’s most appreciated commodities: boobs and food. If they even pretend to be grossed out immediately start crying and tell them you thought wife-material types always showed up with food prepared. Is the moment ruined now? Absolutely, but you just won that encounter so who really cares. Collect your pita chips and bra (in that order) and stroll out with all the pride that you can muster after completing your transformation into a human vending machine.
This is an extra tricky situation to find yourself in because not only have you proven yourself to be the kind of person who stores food in their bra AND falls asleep during sex, but you’ve also wounded the already fatally fragile entity that is the male ego.
He won’t care that you’ve slept a collective six hours the entire week, or that you possibly “forgot” to not mix allergy medicine and alcohol, or fuck, I don’t know, that maybe you’re actually just tired. In his mind, your lack of total rapture in his lovemaking has rendered you soulless and him ball-less. There’s only one way you’re making it out of this with everyone’s feelings intact: faking narcolepsy.
You: Fear not, dude! It wasn’t your painfully mediocre missionary sex that put me right to sleep, just my chronic neurological disorder that renders me unconscious periodically throughout the day.
He can go on thinking that his penis is the most important thing that happened to you all day, and you can get right back to the important stuff: sleeping.
For more things you do, are thinking about doing or would never do at all, watch Not Safe with Nikki Glaser Tuesdays at 10:30/9:30c on Comedy Central and on the CC app.
Sponsored by Comedy Central