Hi I’m Montanaface, and I’m 35 and I just lost my virginity last week. And I feel really stupid and embarrassed for saying that, but only because in America, a man is deemed a bigger failure than carbonated milk if he hasn’t had sex by his seventh birthday.

I told all of this to Emma Watson when I saw her at this bar in the city last week. I thought she would appreciate my grasp on feminism and its application to both women and men, and recognize that I was a kindred spirit who understood the frustrations of the unfair expectations placed on our young people by popular culture, but before I could even finish asking her just where exactly in the hell one of those NuvaRings goes, she snorted and asked me how many mint-condition Rainbow Brite lunch boxes I owned! I told her that if my virginity bothered her so much, maybe she should do something about it. She then began waving a breadstick in my face, shouting “McDonalmus Jackboxium!”, and then I became a talking hamburger for about an hour, which was upsetting, so I left.

I finally decided to drag myself to a strip club because I went to one a long time ago where all the girls offered to have sex with me for money, and I had considered it, but with tax, shipping, and all the Beanie Babies she wanted me to buy her, it was way out of my price range. So I saved up some cash and drove down by the airport to Wardrobe Mal-FUN!-ction’s High-Class Gentleman’s Money Pit, and sure enough, it had burned down and now there was a library. But luckily for me, all the strippers were Information Science majors at the community college and were now paying tuition as librarians as well as hookers.

So this librarian gets on my lap and starts whispering about putting my card cata-log between her stacked boobliography, and holding my hardcopy, and licking her footnotes, and it just went on and on and most of them weren’t very funny, and now I’ve had sex in a public library restroom. Which would sound cool if Lou Reed had done it, but I’m not him, so it was weird. Before I left, she gave me her call number and told me to reference her if I ever wanted to shelve my appendix in her Dewey, Boolean microfiche again, which made only partial sense to me.