I’m Still Ashamed of My “Number”
On a podcast, I severely lowballed the number of people I’ve slept with, and it made me realize a few things.
A few weeks back, I was interviewed on a podcast where interviewees are asked to discuss their sexual escapades, for example, a particularly juicy one-nightstand or a spicy fling abroad.
And when talking about a specific person you slept with, you’re supposed to refer to them by their “number.” (So you would refer to the guy you met on Tinder in Mexico as “number 36” if they are the 36th person you’ve ever slept with, and so on.)
During the episode, while describing a more recent encounter, I thought of what “number” I should name him.
And in those few moments where I was trying to figure out the most accurate digits to relay, I expressly remember worrying about the number being too high. I didn’t want to lie, but I remember feeling like I couldn’t overshoot either because that would be embarrassing.
So, on the spot, I decided to call this man “number 40”.
There’s no way in hell my number is 40. It’s much higher than that.
Looking back now, I know this number is completely wrong. Not just a rough underestimate…
