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Jennifer Wright’s fascinating piece on excuses to tell your man when he wants sex and you don’t was a slightly terrifying read for me. I’ve always known that I am a special man, a super man if you will, and accordingly, I’ve never been told by a woman whom I’m frequently sleeping with that she is not interested in the sex (unless I blocked it out). No headaches, no UTIs, no “not while my parents are in the next room” (I aim young). I’m terrified because I wonder if this means I’m not trying to have enough sex. Psych!
Anyhow, the only times I’m ever given the “it’s that special time” excuse is at the end of first dates and generally it comes from a girl whose shrill Long Island brogue (“I’M ON MUH PIRRY-YAD!”) makes me not want to have sex with her anyway. (Note: And when it really is “that time” two weeks later, I immediately break up because there are women I suspect are constantly menstruating and even if she was lying the first time around, once that fear has been designated, there’s no forgetting it. Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote a book about it.)

So look, I don’t want to talk about not having sex. I want to talk about you gettin’ yours (which only helps my cause in life), so let’s forgo the intergender pussyfooting and talk about how you can get some sex from a reasonable guy in the next few weeks.

Ladies, ladies, there is a full moon over Weinerville right now! June 2010 represents the nexus of rare sporting instances during which men are extremely vulnerable and will sleep with a cool chick and be somewhat human about it for once. Is it because Entourage is coming back on the air? No. And if you meet a guy who still watches Entourage, he is probably going to try and drug you so watch out for that.

Why is this month different from all other months? The NBA Finals (basketball) are in full effect and the World Cup (soccer) is here after four years of waiting. I feel you buzzing with excitement across the expanses of the internets. Hear me out, okay?

The NBA Finals is interesting this year. The Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics are tied at two games apiece in a best-of-seven series and a lot of reasonable guys are watching because it’s a storied rivalry. Basketball is an easy sport for women who are anti-sport to garner an interest in: it’s not slow like baseball, there are no helmets so you can see the players and get a sense of their personalities, and the game features more improvisational play so guys watching tend to be less sanctimonious about it than other sports.

Here’s what you do: Pick one team. LA or Boston. Come up with a good reason to root for them (jersey colors and hot players are slaps in the face to guy fans). If you have to lie, try this: “I like LA because I really think Kobe Bryant is the best player ever.” (You’ll probably never have to defend this position and if someone challenges you, just say: “watch him play” and the guy will probably shut up.) Or “I love Boston because they have real fans and a great basketball tradition.” The dude’ll be impressed.

Go to a place where people are watching the game. Root for your team. Seem invested in the game. Pick up a guy who’s rooting for the other team by making a salacious bet on the outcome of the game. Or pick up a fellow fan who will think it’s hot that you like his team. Flirt during the commercial breaks. Sleep with him. Repeat.

The World Cup is even easier. Pick a team (using the aforementioned method). Go to a place where the games are being played. Ask a guy who he’s got going all the way. Let him bore you with his answers. Ask whether he thinks soccer is going to ever become popular in America. North American men know less about soccer than most other international men, so it’s practically a cultural event. Flirt during commercial breaks (though there are many less in soccer). Sleep with him. Repeat.

It’s that simple. And on top of that (err…), by virtue of there being commercial breaks, you can actually vet the guy and move on if you aren’t into his real world game. But remember: this month is not about the real world; it’s about exploiting a window in which guys are accessible about some stuff. And having sex. Unless you have a headache.