Breeder Bar Dilemma: A Dry Humping Extravaganza

You know some days when you don’t get enough sleep and your mind doesn’t seem to function as well as it normally does; you can’t seem to piece information together quickly and responding to someone with any remote level of intelligence is almost impossible? I had a day like that recently and it made me wonder if that’s how stupid people feel all the time. Like they’re not quite with it. Or are they so stupid as to never realize that they aren’t actually connecting properly? It’s so interesting to consider that we can never truly get inside anyone else’s mind. We only have our own brain to battle—which I suppose makes life less overwhelming but it also limits complete communicational comprehension.

This leads me to mating rituals. I do not get them. I particularly do not understand the mating ritual of undergraduates, specifically the breeder bar scene. I really want to get inside the heads of the humping couples on the dance floor. I want to reach in and ask, “what the fuck are you doing” do you realize how ugly he (she) is? Do you realize what a potentially fatal or disgusting mistake you could be making right here, right now as you continue to grind your clothed genitals against each other?

And it’s not that I am purely puritanical. In fact, I am the opposite of uptight when it comes to sexuality. But there is just something off-putting about this distinct niche in society. Perhaps it has to do with the scene not being honest—the rituals seem forced—like mutant-slut-zombie-robots are all intoxicating themselves into coming around to the idea that friction is fun. Like the sex isn’t genuine it’s just something they’re supposed to do because Cosmo or Maxim told them to.

I really can’t pinpoint what it is, but when I go into a place like that I get completely freaked out. I feel like I’m witnessing something I shouldn’t and that I must go home and shower immediately. It’s like I’m in the underbelly of stupid. A place where my own personal safety and sanity is at risk. I hope I never need to have sex that badly. But even if I did I think I’d just stay home and fix the problem by hand.