There are a few questions you never want to hear from an ex-girlfriend.
“What’s a snuff film?”
“What’s a rim job?”
And that’s two.
Katie asked both within two minutes of each other Sunday night.
Let’s deal with the former first.
“What’s a snuff film?” she asked.
“Why, have you been asked to be in one?”
“Yeahhhhh,” she said, trying to adopt a sexy voice. “What do you think of that?”
“I think it’s probably a bad idea, given that it’s a snuff film.”
“Well, I kinda know what it is, I mean, I think I know, but I just want to check for sure.”
“Katie, have you been asked to be in one?”
“Because a snuff film is a movie that shows someone getting killed.”
“Oh.” Pause. “That’s what I thought.”
“You remember 8 MM, that movie with Nic Cage? That was a snuff film.”
“You mean it was about snuff films?”
“Right. It wasn’t actually a snuff film.”
“OK. Well, that’s what I thought.”
“Um, why did you need to know?”
She explained that Entertainment Weekly had an article about Liv Tyler, and for reasons that aren’t yet clear, the story mentioned a snuff film. So that part at least made sense. The next question? Yeah, not so much.
“Well, do you know what a rim job is?” she asked.
“Not from experience.”
“What is it?”
“I’m afraid to tell you.”
“Because I’m afraid you’ll say, “Oh, so that’s what that’s called. I never knew the name for what was being done.”
“Well, what is it?”
“It’s when you lick someone’s asshole” Pause. “Or when they lick yours.”
“Do you not have Google on your computer?” I asked her.
“Yeah, but I thought you might know.”
I’m not sure whether to be pleased and proud or insulted and disgusted.
“I asked Nicole about it,” she said, referring to a friend of hers. “She had the same reaction. She said, quietly, ‘Katie, I’m not comfortable having this discussion with you.’ Then she hung up.”
“I don’t blame her.”
“Yeah, now that I know what it is, me neither.”
Silence. Awkward silence.
“Um, yeah, Katie, so why do you want to know about it?”
Turns out her roommate Bob’s brother asked him if he knew what it was. He thought it involved anal sex. Katie thought it involved oral sex. Bring them together, and they’re both right, kind of like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, only with tongue-to-anus action replacing the delicious goodness of peanut butter and chocolate.
Tangent: Katie later explained that this all started because Bob’s little brother, who is a freshman in high school and looks to him for advice, sent him text messages asking about things he was learning in sex ed. Bob, who was performing in a frog costume for a group of elementary school kids, kept getting texts asking about rim jobs and dirty sanchezes. Katie did not, however, explain, why this was being covered in high school sex ed. In my day, we were lucky to learn about fallopian tubes or the vas deferens.
Thanks to this, I got stuck with providing details (and I’m trying hard not to make a “details about da tail” joke except, dammit, I guess I just did).
From there, the conversation really took a turn south (no pun intended), as we discussed music, both of us admitting to liking the new Maroon 5/Rhianna song. Frankly, I’m too embarrassed to share anymore about that.