I’ve had this King of the Hill scene stuck in my head for a while.
Bill Dauterive: So, how long you been celibate?
Monk: Three years.
Bill Dauterive: Oh. The fourth year’s the hardest.
It’s a funny scene. It’s a good line. But most of all – It’s a lie. The fourth year isn’t the hardest. The fifth isn’t the hardest. It’s all easy. Every year of celibacy is easier and easier. It’s a slide down a greased razor blade, the path of least resistance. Every day you become a little less attached to the idea of yourself as a sexual entity. In comparison to the stress and effort of dating, seeking, romance, talking, the ups and downs of romantic life? Not fucking is cake.
You know what is hard? Getting back into the game. I never really even understood the game the first time, and then I dropped out for eight years. I’m still operating under the “let’s pass notes in homeroom and maybe make out at the football game” rules and clearly, that doesn’t work now. I don’t even know where homeroom is anymore.
I know where it isn’t… Craigslist. That’s just some dark, horrid shit.