Skinny, fat, lazy-eyed, or otherwise, your partner in passion eventually wakes up. And, lumbering confused out of a stranger’s room in clothes that aren’t hers, you’re girl is embodying Courtney Love at this moment in likely every capacity minus neglectful mother, heroin addict, and murderer. The uncertainty on her face says it all — she’s piecing together the combination of her lie about being on birth control along with your, now-apparent, lies about you using a condom and your enthusiasm for foreplay.
A contemporary lovers’ quarrel ensues. Acting as the peaceful individual in the situation, you suggest that you resolve this matter away from the house and your roommates and offer to take her to breakfast. Fortunately, and in a very non-Courtney-Love fashion, you both confide that you’re clean and the initial plan to stop at the free clinic after pancakes is stricken from the itinerary.
Perfect, she’s agreed to let you take her out to breakfast. She’s under the impression that you’re a semi-decent person when, in reality, you’re just a cheap, conniving narcissist in the midst of a scheme right now.
Ideally, it’ll be Sunday morning and the local restaurants will be crowded with all kinds of townies at brunch. Strategically choose a family place that you know will have a wait and your trap is set. Honestly, the more time you can spend in this den full of sticky toddlers, screaming babies, and weeping parents the better. Passively remind her how awful children are without ever explicitly saying it. Make her watch as that ex-homecoming king and queen simultaneous smack their pair of fighting children into submission. Gape as a father cries after having his breakfast thrown up on by his kid’s weird, hyper-allergic friend. And, by all means, gawk at that divorcée trying to trade her two children, who are playing tag in the restaurant, to that senile elderly couple in exchange for scratch-off tickets.
Yes, you are correct; you’re essentially pulling some Inception-type trickery and implanting the idea in her head that she needs to pick up a morning-after pill, or Plan B, pronto.
Hopefully, as breakfast nears close, she will be aggressively suggesting a trip to the drug store. However, if she still needs convincing, the wad of crumpled bills, random coins, buttons, and paper clips from your pocket you use to pay for breakfast should serve as a less-than-promising omen about your skills as a potential parent or spouse. You no longer have to prove that children are awful; you just need to show that you’d be an incompetent, essentially Courtney Love-esque, parent.
If she hasn’t brought it up and you’re currently leaving the restaurant it’s time to take this into high gear. Do everything you can to flaunt that side of you that’s overly vain, rude, and disgusting. Eat a slice of pizza out of the trash, steal canned food from a charity drive, audibly fart on a child in a stroller should it assume the position closest to you filth chute — whatever it takes to get her to picture you doing the exact same thing in ten years while you’re completely oblivious to your parental responsibilities.
Surely, your self-centered antics with your ingenious ploy have her scampering to the nearest pharmacy at this point after she brought up the idea and you responded with, “I guess Plan B will work, but I can only throw five on it since I spent the rest of my savings on breakfast for us.” Good work, buddy; you’ve staved off parenthood for a while longer. You’ve truly had your cake and eaten it too, as unprotected sex is one of the more exciting forms of sex along with airplane, McDonald’s, and birthday anal.
As a bonus round, if she doesn’t completely hate you, you can have a few uninhibited days of passionate fun without worry — that is, you know, if you’re not too much of a Hollywood star to walk the red carpet.
[Plan B image via ShutterStock]