After reading a few excerpts from Mindy Kaling’s new novel, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), it turns out that The Office star and I have quite a few things in common. She thinks “sneakers that tone your butt as you walk are shams,” she has a thing for cupcakes, and she can’t seem to wrap her head around the allure of one-night stands all opinions we both share. We basically need to be best freinds, like, yesterday. The full book isn’t available until November, but here’s an excerpt from one of my favorite chapters:
Someone Explain One-Night Stands to Me
I have never never had a one-night stand. Apparently, this is impos-sibly lame. Every romantic comedy I watch depicts our ador-able heroine walking sheepishly back from a strangers place in the morning, with bedhead and her eyeliner all sexy and smudged.
The problem is, I dont understand the allure of the one-nightstand at all. Heres why:
In my mind, the sexiest thing in the world is the feeling that youre wanted. The slightly nervous asking of your phone number. The text message asking you for dinner. The simple overture ofwanting me can satisfy my ego for a good long time. The sexual situation that could come of it? Well, thats just less appealing to me. I dont mean to say I dont enjoy sex; Im a properly functioning mammal and everything. I just think, like, who is this guy? Dont you need to know some more about a guy than an evenings worth of conversation at a bar to make sex appealing?
Also: safety. And actually, I dont even mean sexual health safety, like STDs, I mean like good old-fashioned life-and-death safety. Heres what I cant wrap my brain around. I barely talk to strangers (a habit I started as a child which has served me well through my adulthood).
So the idea of going to a strangers house at night, or having that stranger over to my house sounds insanely dangerous.
These fears have made it so that when my female friends talk tome about one-night stands, Im an incredibly irritating listener.
EXCITED SEXUALLY-LIBERATED FRIEND: So, then it was like 2 a.m. that same night, and he knocked on my apartment door. I was in my robe and nothing else
ME: No underwear?
EXCITED SEXUALLY-LIBERATED FRIEND: No. I said nothing else.
ME (SkePtical): I feel like you were wearing underwear. Thats how you are in, like, repose?
EXCITED SEXUALLY-LIBERATED FRIEND: Yes. So he knocked at the door
ME: Wait! Sorry. Im just realizing: Your doorman let him up without ever seeing him before? Doesnt that disturb youthat your doorman would just let any old person off the street up to your apartment? I would give my doorman abook of photos of accepted guests that he could reference
EXCITED SEXUALLY-LIBERATED FRIEND: Im doing fine with mydoorman.
ME: I wouldve established a different procedure.
EXCITED SEXUALLY-LIBERATED FRIEND: Great, Mindy. And then I showed him around the place
ME: The doorman? (off, annoyed look) The guy! The guy! Yes.
EXCITED SEXUALLY-LIBERATED FRIEND: He was into the way I decorated it. Really taking it in.
ME: He was casing the joint!
EXCITED SEXUALLY-LIBERATED FRIEND: No! He was not casingthe joint. He was being sexy and sweet and making cute little jokes about family photos. And then he asked if he could see my bedroom
ME: Your bedroom, so he could rape you!
EXCITED SEXUALLY-LIBERATED FRIEND: No! He wasnt tryingto rape me. I was into it. So we go to my bedroom and he takes off his coat
ME: And he had a tranquilizer syringe and tried to drug you and rape you and murder you like in Copycat!
My friend gets so irritated at my constant interruptions that she stops telling her sexy story, soon enough, after Ive pointed out all the opportunities that couldve resulted in her being killed.
Dont get me wrong, I love hearing about it. Look, I dont wantto come off as prim or that I hate Samantha from Sex and the City or whatever. I would feel sad if I didnt have my sexually-liberated friend there to tell me fun, frank tales of desires fulfilled. I just dont get it at all.
So, this is what Im like: If you come over to my house, I need toknow your frst and last name. I need to have your phone number and a person who we both know so you cant disappear forever in case you murder me. Ultimately, it comes down to this: How em-barassing would it be for me to be talking to a detective at a precinct after you tried to rape and murder me in my home, and not be ableto tell them your name or any information about you because we were having a one-night stand? Ive seen Law & Order: SVU, I knowhow it works.