If there is one thing I have learned in my life, it is that people are weird. Usually weird is good; in fact, most of the time I am a strong supporter of Weirdness. But there are just some things that I can’t get behind.
Call it a pet peeve, or a dealbreaker (à la the funniest dating blog ever), or whatever, but nothing turns me off faster than a guy who likes to be called Daddy.
Maybe it’s ’cause I’m not that into dirty talk (I’m of the opinion that if you’re going to do something, shut the fuck up and do it, although I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it for the bajillions of people that adore whispering slutty nothings into each others’ ears), or maybe–no, fuck that. It’s just WEIRD. And oedipal, and twisted. I’m sorry, but when I say, “Daddy,” I think of my dad. And that gets me out of the mood faster than I can unhook my bra (which is pretty damn fast). So moaning, “Fuck me, Daddy,” is just really, really creepy to me.
I mean, I get it, the whole young-innocent-girl thing is a turn-on. But personally, I can play that part without getting the ‘rents involved. And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with parental sexy-time name-calling, if that’s what you’re into; all I’m saying is NO THANKS, I’LL PASS.
But. As off-putting as that is to me, I get that loads of people like it, and who am I to judge? Fuck, call each other Big Sexy Ostrich Zombie for all I care; I’m not the one in bed with you. But but but but but. I can top the Daddy-level of creepiness. I had a friend who was dating this guy, and he called her–you guessed it–Mama. And I’m not talking Mamacita, or “Ay, Mama!” I’m talking Happy-Mother’s-Day, person-who-used-to-(maybe)-make-your-school-lunch Mommy-level Mama.
No no no no no no thank you.
Basically, I think it boils down to: keep parental names out of my bedroom, and I’ll keep you in my bed.