avatarSherry McGuinn

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Abstract

the men sent me pictures of their junk. Either unencumbered by underwear, or shown as a bulge in their briefs/boxers. This type of research I didn’t need, so I quickly quashed it my stating in my profile that “I’m more interested in what’s between your ears, then your legs.” Some men, it turned out, were delighted by that. Draw your own conclusions here.</p><p id="ca19"><b>Each day, I logged on, to be greeted by men with such “handles” as “Love2LickYa,” “Always Ready,” MyDixErect,” and other such handles armed with mind-boggling openers like “Hi,” “What’s up?” and “Let’s meet!”</b></p><p id="00e2">Intellect aside, many, if not most of the photos I received left me scratching my head in bewilderment. The most common: A guy standing in front of a bathroom mirror, taking a selfie with his phone — and a raised toilet seat as a backdrop. In ninety percent of these shots, their expressions read as: “I am trying to hold back a massive fart.”</p><p id="ab1f"><b>Dudes, WTF are you thinking? Why are you trying to make yourselves as unappealing as possible? Perhaps that speaks to the conflicted nature of many on AM. They wanna, but they don’t wanna, you know?</b></p><p id="aa83">To be fair, there were plenty of men who didn’t immediately come off like dunces or dicks. Just decent-seeming, regular guys looking, for whatever reason, for some “strange.” And they all shared the same party line: “I don’t want to disrupt my situation, or yours.” In other words, don’t take this for any more than what it is. Illicit fucking.</p><p id="07c8">That brings me to the reason I logged onto Ashley Madison in the first place. The REASONS. The crux of the proverbial biscuit. Why would someone who’d been married for several years with kids and a home and all that crap, take a chance like this? You know why. In fact, anyone who has gotten busy knows. For SEX. For a sweaty, stinky and hopefully, grindingly-good roll in the hay.</p><p id="80fa"><b>Is that truly all there is to it? A purely visceral desire to swap spit and bump uglies with another human being? According to <i>Psychology Today</i> and renowned sociologist Randall Collins, <i>Sexual desire, is not chiefly aimed at physical pleasure or the production of children, but at connectedness with others.</i></b></p><p id="ca8d">Hmmm…</p><p id="0cca">As I sifted through my inbox of messages, I could <i>almost</i> see the truth in Collins’ statement. For many of the guys, their marriages had gone cold, with the wifey involved with her job, the kids, their home and uninterested in marital coupling, or any kind of physical intimacy. There were also instances where the wife had a physical disability that took sex out of the equation. And finally, some men…just wanted a hug.</p><figure id="1ae5"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*M5zN9FSf8SHsvdwfMZMiFA.jpeg"><figcaption>Marco Bianchetti</figcaption></figure><p id="de88">After the initial rush I’d received at how easy it was to attract the attention of scads of men on AM, I started to feel bad. Really bad. I felt like a bigger fake th

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an the guys I was leading on with phony promises of meet and greets over cocktails, Chai Lattes and the like. This, I realized, was no longer research but a type of voyeurism that, at the end of the day, I was incredibly uncomfortable with.</p><p id="62a0"><b>By the way? One of those package shots I mentioned? The erect member belonged to a guy who worked at the same company as me. I knew it because he also included a face shot. I saw this guy in the company kitchen every morning.</b></p><p id="ab91">I can’t imagine what my husband would think if I told him. Something tells me he wouldn’t be too jazzed at my attempt to “keep it real” for my art. Of course, at some point he may read this. I’ll deal with that when and if it happens, Unless I muster up the stones to tell him first. I hope I can.</p><p id="f475">I deleted my Ashley Madison profile then took a long, hot shower. As I scrubbed myself raw, I thought about my script and came to the conclusion that perhaps some things really are better left to the imagination.</p><p id="4d3d"><i>Sherry McGuinn is a longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.</i></p><p id="881c">For more of my crazy ramblings:</p><div id="4575" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/reflections-on-a-snowy-halloween-e474c3ed1d0d"> <div> <div> <h2>Reflections on a Snowy Halloween</h2> <div><h3>The sweet and the scary.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*npU-Nsi_T8C8XdX2mv7QyA.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="5e53" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-had-sex-with-an-octopus-626fdc3a0de1"> <div> <div> <h2>I Had Sex With An Octopus.</h2> <div><h3>And it was all over me.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*rCd0ve4Gm7SHr5rrxAH1Ig.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="7ba0" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/bad-date-39ab43ae0518"> <div> <div> <h2>Bad Date</h2> <div><h3>The early years, part one.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*fT5A2po0pX8YPWCv0LFIew.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

I “POSED” ON ASHLEY MADISON

Sometimes, “due diligence” is over-rated.

Pablo Heimplatz/Unsplash

As writers, we’re often told to “write what we know.” Unfortunately, there are often occasions when some of what we know — we’d rather not share.

But to hell with that. As I’ve gotten older, I realize I don’t really give a damn what people think. Not as much, anyway. It’s more important to “speak my truth.” As it certainly is to you.

As a screenwriter who wants, and needs, to resonate with an audience, I’ve had to dig really deep and unearth certain facts about myself and my relationships that, even a decade ago, would have been unthinkable. For example, one of my recent projects is about a woman whose rocky relationship with her parents takes a revelatory turn when all three are diagnosed with cancer. Unfortunately, they didn’t make it. I, on the other hand, was more fortunate to have discovered a lump that turned out to be breast cancer, early on.

In this particular screenplay, nothing was “prettied up.” I spilled my guts, and in so doing, created what both my manager and I believe is the best thing I’ve ever written.

Elvin Ruiz/Unsplash

So now, with that script in circulation where I’m hoping it will land with a producer who “gets it,” I’m embarking on another project, with the catalyst being the Canadian online dating service, Ashley Madison.

AM caters to people who are either married, or in committed relationships. Their tag line is the to-the-point, “Life is short. Have an affair.” Well, shit. Okay, then!

Not really knowing anything about the site, other than it was hacked in 2015, thereby airing the dirty laundry of some pretty high-profile cheaters, I decided that I had to take a deeper dive. If nothing else then for my art. So, I created a phony persona on AshleyMadison.com, lying about my age, location, reason for being there, etc. The one thing I refused to do was post a picture of myself. As it turned out, that didn’t matter a damn.

Immediately, a hoard of prematurely enthusiastic, sexually-starved men clamored out of the woodwork, practically drooling in anticipation of the attention they imagined receiving from someone who was nameless, faceless…and as phony as the excuses offered up to their unwitting wives.

Encouraged by this onslaught, I began sifting through profiles received from men of all ages, sizes and colors. What a treasure trove of material for my script! Like wandering through the produce department of a Whole Foods! Except for the fact that Whole Foods doesn’t display packages of well…packages.

Yes. Some of the men sent me pictures of their junk. Either unencumbered by underwear, or shown as a bulge in their briefs/boxers. This type of research I didn’t need, so I quickly quashed it my stating in my profile that “I’m more interested in what’s between your ears, then your legs.” Some men, it turned out, were delighted by that. Draw your own conclusions here.

Each day, I logged on, to be greeted by men with such “handles” as “Love2LickYa,” “Always Ready,” MyDixErect,” and other such handles armed with mind-boggling openers like “Hi,” “What’s up?” and “Let’s meet!”

Intellect aside, many, if not most of the photos I received left me scratching my head in bewilderment. The most common: A guy standing in front of a bathroom mirror, taking a selfie with his phone — and a raised toilet seat as a backdrop. In ninety percent of these shots, their expressions read as: “I am trying to hold back a massive fart.”

Dudes, WTF are you thinking? Why are you trying to make yourselves as unappealing as possible? Perhaps that speaks to the conflicted nature of many on AM. They wanna, but they don’t wanna, you know?

To be fair, there were plenty of men who didn’t immediately come off like dunces or dicks. Just decent-seeming, regular guys looking, for whatever reason, for some “strange.” And they all shared the same party line: “I don’t want to disrupt my situation, or yours.” In other words, don’t take this for any more than what it is. Illicit fucking.

That brings me to the reason I logged onto Ashley Madison in the first place. The REASONS. The crux of the proverbial biscuit. Why would someone who’d been married for several years with kids and a home and all that crap, take a chance like this? You know why. In fact, anyone who has gotten busy knows. For SEX. For a sweaty, stinky and hopefully, grindingly-good roll in the hay.

Is that truly all there is to it? A purely visceral desire to swap spit and bump uglies with another human being? According to Psychology Today and renowned sociologist Randall Collins, Sexual desire, is not chiefly aimed at physical pleasure or the production of children, but at connectedness with others.

Hmmm…

As I sifted through my inbox of messages, I could almost see the truth in Collins’ statement. For many of the guys, their marriages had gone cold, with the wifey involved with her job, the kids, their home and uninterested in marital coupling, or any kind of physical intimacy. There were also instances where the wife had a physical disability that took sex out of the equation. And finally, some men…just wanted a hug.

Marco Bianchetti

After the initial rush I’d received at how easy it was to attract the attention of scads of men on AM, I started to feel bad. Really bad. I felt like a bigger fake than the guys I was leading on with phony promises of meet and greets over cocktails, Chai Lattes and the like. This, I realized, was no longer research but a type of voyeurism that, at the end of the day, I was incredibly uncomfortable with.

By the way? One of those package shots I mentioned? The erect member belonged to a guy who worked at the same company as me. I knew it because he also included a face shot. I saw this guy in the company kitchen every morning.

I can’t imagine what my husband would think if I told him. Something tells me he wouldn’t be too jazzed at my attempt to “keep it real” for my art. Of course, at some point he may read this. I’ll deal with that when and if it happens, Unless I muster up the stones to tell him first. I hope I can.

I deleted my Ashley Madison profile then took a long, hot shower. As I scrubbed myself raw, I thought about my script and came to the conclusion that perhaps some things really are better left to the imagination.

Sherry McGuinn is a longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

For more of my crazy ramblings:

Relationships
Sex
Life Lessons
Creativity
True Story
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