Casual Sex?

Casual sex?

You gotta be kidding.

- I can't deal with it. - Me neither.

Not anymore. Just the thought of it makes me paranoid.

- Well, we should introduce ourselves. I'm Stacy. - I'm Melissa.

Right now, we're both scared of being single and having sex.

- I've always been scared of sex. - Not me.

This is kind of embarrassing to admit,

but I remember when it was actually fun to say

"Wow, that really felt great. What's your name again?"

I've never had sex with someone I didn't know.

For that matter, I've never said "Wow, that felt really great".

Sex always seemed like the best way to feel really connected with guys.

I guess that's 'cause I grew up when I did.

I wasn't much of a trendsetter during the sexual revolution.

It would've been a lot easier if I would've been more like Stacy.

- Melissa, you'll never guess what. - What?

Last, night, Kenny Kreiger came over

to where I was baby-sitting and guess what?

What?

- We were fooling around and guess what happened? - What?

He made me touch it.

It was so weird. It was like skin, only different.

What color was it?

I don't know, I didn't look at it. I just touched it.

- You never saw it? - Well, I don't know, it felt like...

Orange.

By senior year, I saw it. But I still couldn't tell you what color it was.

A month after my 17th birthday, I finally did it. With it.

- Is that it? Did we do it? - Yeah.

It kinda hurt. But it was good.

Yeah. Did you see my other shoe anywhere?

By my second year of college, I knew I couldn't put it off any longer.

I was the only virgin left in the dorm.

Except Ronny, who knew even less about sex than I did.

Please, Ronny, you're my best male friend.

The first time I do it, I want it to be with someone I'm comfortable with.

Well...

Okay. But let's not get all freaked out afterwards.

Thanks, I really appreciate it.

- I guess I should undress now? - That would be good.

You want foreplay?

Yeah. That...

Would be good.

I was especially hot for struggling artistic types with a lot of potential.

Like Baylor Schneff, neo-post-pop-Expressionist.

His lovemaking was just like his art.

Primitive, but passionate.

Brian Ellis, lead guitarist with Dripping Sweat.

I couldn't get enough of those backstage passes.

Gunther Kroger, the sous chef that trained me.

He taught me to trust my instincts in the kitchen.

Joey Eagans, the closing act at the Giggle Box.

His timing was even better horizontally.

But not every man in my life was an artistic genius.

Some, I must admit, were very attractive strangers.

It was the early '80s and sex was still a good way to meet new people.

Uh, excuse me.

I was never as adventurous as Stacy.

Apart from that time with Ronny, I only slept with one other person.

Gary Erdman, the guy I almost married.

I teach kindergarten, and one of my kids fixed us up.

Well, actually it was Joey's mum, but Joey took the credit.

God, I love the idea of being married, of not being by myself.

With Gary, I thought I was finally comfortable with my own sexuality.

To Bird, inside, over. Open basket...

But deep down I guess I knew it wasn't going to work.

Okay, so I didn't know, but I had a feeling.

- Gary? - Uh-huh?

- Do you love me? - Sure.

I love you. Unbelievable! The Celtics always get the breaks.

Two weeks before the wedding, Gary changed his mind.

He said he was sorry, but he was going through a selfish phase.

Luckily, the tags were still on my dress,

but I couldn't return the 600 monogrammed napkins.

Just once, I'd like to wear a sexy white dress blowing all around me

and not have men run away screaming.

Just once, I'd like to have the kind of sexual experience

where you don't go to the bathroom and cry afterwards.

I bet Marilyn cried in the bathroom after sex.

Probably more than once. Everyone does.

- Men, too? - They can't, they're asleep.

Maybe Melissa envied my reckless past,

but some time around the mid-'80s, I started regretting it.

One day I was standing in line at the Mini Mart

and I happened to look at the magazine rack.

Time, Newsweek, People, it was on every cover.

So, Stacy.

- How are things at the restaurant? - Oh, fine.

Yeah? When are they gonna make you a chef?

Soon. Do you have my results?

Yeah, don't worry, you're fine.

- You tested for everything? - Well, yeah, I tested for everything. Okay?

- And you're perfectly healthy. - Are you sure?

I'm sure. Goodbye, Stacy.

Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, for sparing a formerly flirtatious,

spontaneous and... Let's face it,

much-too-promiscuous slamhound.

You won't be sorry, 'cause from now on, I swear I'll lead a life of pure sublimation.

I'll aerobicize my little heart out. I'll meditate. I'll compose symphonies.

I'll do anything to keep myself from ever touching human flesh again.

I'll give new meaning to the word "celibacy".

Oh...

Stacy, you don't have to commit to lifelong celibacy.

Just practise safe sex.

"Safe sex."

Who'd have thought those two words would exist in the same sentence?

I don't know, maybe abstinence isn't such a bad thing.

Beats sleeping with guys who don't call you back afterwards.

And you and I have more in common now that we're both afraid of sex.

That's consoling.

I miss it. I mean, I don't know how to get close to men without it.

There's your boyfriend.

So what? There's yours.

Well, it's been ten months and 17 days,

and the only man who looked safe to me was Dr. Goodman, and I wasn't attracted to him.

Then it seemed like I wasn't attracted to anybody,

which scared me more than AIDS did.

- Where were you? - God, I'm sorry, but I got a great surprise.

What?

This is where we're going on our vacation.

Okay. "Oasis Health Spa".

They're all exercising. That's not a vacation.

No, there's all kinds of social events. Look, there's dancing, and parties.

Look how pretty it is. Look.

Oh, no.

My mom told me about a cruise to Hawaii

where we can lay out in the sun and be blobs for a week.

That's a vacation.

Yeah, but what kind of guys are we gonna meet?

At this place, at least we know everybody's into being healthy.

I mean, it'll help me with my paranoia.

- Stacy. How's it going? - Oh.

Hi, Baylor. Do you remember him from the Fringe Festival?

Oh, yeah. Hi.

Stacy, I'm into something totally different now.

I can't even put it into words. Why don't you come over?

Um, uh, I'm sorry, we're having lunch.

Oh, yeah. Okay, great. Let me give you my new address.

My new number. Okay.

- It's a garage arrangement. - Great.

I gotta get out of this town.

Goodbye!

Yay!

- We're so color-coordinated. - God! We're gonna be the best-looking ones there.

I want you two to know, you got the biggest room in the place.

Really?

Yeah, it used to be the honeymoon suite when this was a regular hotel.

Why don't you two take a look around and I'll get your luggage up to your room.

- Ready to go break some hearts? - Uh-huh.

- Bye, darling. - Bye.

Oh, wow!

This is beautiful.

Oh, my God, I feel so much healthier now and we just checked in.

Come on.

Hey, how you doin'? My name's Vinny.

- Hi. - You girls better be nice to me.

I came all the way from New York just to meet you.

- Really? What part? - Well, actually, uh, Patterson, New Jersey.

You familiar with the Straight Street exit?

- Not really. - No?

Then what you do, you hop on the George Washington bridge, right?

When you get right past the Leonia Park exit,

you pick up Highway 80,

which is also known as the Passaic Highway.

Vinny, Vinny, I'm sorry, but...

- We have to get back to our rooms. - Our suitcases.

Sorry. Bye.

That's your boyfriend.

Did... Did I say go west on 80?

Hey, how you doin'? My name's Vinny.