What's in a Number?

Dear Dategirl,

My boyfriend married young, stayed married for a long time, and then met me after he'd been divorced for about five minutes. We're both 40. Meanwhile, I've spent most of my life single. I've had relationships here and there, but nothing more than a few years. As a result, I've slept with many more people than he has. I foolishly answered honestly when he asked me how many people I'd had sex with. I now regret this disclosure, but at the time we'd just started dating and my guard was down. At least I never told him about the women on my list! We actually broke up over this—and a few other things—and he had slept with at least one other person in the interim. But he's back to harping on "my number" whenever we have a fight. I know other people have had this problem, but I've never seen it answered competently. What do I do? He's otherwise great. I can't believe this is an issue.

—Not a SLUT!

I get asked this question every few years, but so far, nobody's invented a time machine that allows you to go back a few decades and unfuck all those peeps, so your man is out of luck. That hymen has sailed, whore. But really, why would you want to do that anyway? Sure, there are a few penises I've experienced that I'd like to forget, but I like to think that every scrotum I've cupped and foreskin I've lovingly peeled back has helped form the lovely woman you see today. It sounds like you feel much the same way, which is good, because if you were feeling guilty, we'd need to have words.

Unfortunately, technology has also come up short by not inventing a security blanket to wrap around your boyfriend and make him less of a insecure tool. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh. I'm sure he has his charms, but this harping over numbers is less flattering than a fanny pack.

The reason you've never seen this retardo dilemma answered competently is that the people who usually ask about it are generally the half of the equation being yelled at, not the half doing the yelling. That's because someone who is furious about ancient history knows they're being a douchebag. So why would they ask anyone to confirm their douchebaggery?

I guess what I'm saying is that unless your boyfriend admits he has a problem, he's always going to make it yours. If he's that much of a keeper (insert skeptical expression here), try couples counseling. Maybe having a mental-health professional tell him he's mental will help him get a grip.

Dear Dategirl,

My mother stopped wearing a bra. She just announced it one day, and refuses to listen to reason. Now her giant, dangling mom boobs are just out there, sliding around underneath her T-shirts. I refuse to be seen with her. What can I say to get her back into her bra?

—Son of a Boob

When I came home from college with a mohawk, my mother threw a fit of shit. She cried, she screamed, and she told me she wouldn't be seen in public with me until my hair grew back. Did her histrionics persuade me to grow out my 'hawk? Nope. Because my hair (and it looked really cute) was my business. Just as your mom's tits are her biz, not yours.

So back off, little boy. Lighten up and quit staring at your mom's chest. That's creepy.

dategirl@seattleweekly.com

 
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