Assholes Finish First (14 page)

One day during our first year of law school, my friends and I were sitting around drunk, comparing notes on all the unusual places we’d had sex. Some of them had pretty cool ones; I can’t remember any of them, because I never pay attention to anyone but myself. I do remember that my best place ever—Barcelona Museum of Modern Art, on an exhibit—didn’t rate very highly with the group.

Fortunately, I don’t really care about that crap. At least not yet. Maybe after I get married and stop fucking lots of different women, then all the various places I fuck my wife will be fun to me, like it was to my engaged friends. You know, since it’ll be the only variety left.

What really mattered to me was all the different
types
of women I’d fucked. In college, I thought I was pretty cool because I’d hooked up with all the major races: white, black, Asian, Middle Eastern, Indian (casino AND dot), etc. But I was quickly put to shame by GoldenBoy, who had fucked a Canadian female bodybuilder who could bench press more than he could. Wow. That’s cool. Not many people can say that.

And that was just the beginning. As we went around the group, PWJ trumped me (a famous politician’s daughter, in her dad’s bed), Jojo trumped me (a famous female athlete), even misanthrope SlingBlade trumped me (a friend’s mom). Almost everyone had some sort of cool hookup I couldn’t match. This was complete fucking bullshit!

Considering that I am better than all of them, I could not let this stand. I vowed to create an epic Sexual To-Do List, one that would include every possible type of cool hookup I could think of. Then I would go out and
complete it. I would never lose a dick-measuring contest again! All men may be idiots, but I will be their king!

I ended up with a huge list and an awesome collection of stories relating to it. Here is the final and completed Tucker Max Sexual To-Do List:

—hot female midget

—amputee

—twins

—virgin

—within thirty minutes of meeting her

—without knowing her name

—mother and daughter

—married woman

—mile high club

—professional model

—famous woman

—religious girl on her parents’ bed

—girl with fake breasts

—Hooters girl

—military officer

—one of my teachers/professors/TA

—cop

—federal agent (two actually, DEA and FBI)

—friend’s mom

—mom’s friend

—paraplegic/confined to a wheelchair but still has vaginal sensation

—female professional athlete

—escort (without paying)

—carnie

—threesome (mff)

—three girls (mfff)

—four or more, all girls (mffff+)

—two different girls in 12 hours, not together or in related incidents

—three different girls in 24 hours, not together or in related incidents

—girl that weighs more than me

—girl that weighs less than 100 pounds

—MILF

—GILF

—Miss America contestant

—Miss USA contestant

—Rhodes scholar

—Marshall scholar

—real-life CIA or NSA agent (I got only an NSA agent; I would reopen the list for a hot CIA analyst)

—stripper I picked up that night at a strip club w/o paying

—daughter of someone big/important

—plus-sized model

—porn star

—giant (6'6”)

—girl who doesn’t speak any English

—paroled felon

—pregnant

—goth/emo chick

—girl with colostomy bag

—a funny tattoo on/around vagina

—tongue ring

—clit ring

—deaf girl

—girl with a glass eye

—midget threesome

Ethnicities/Nationalities

—English

—Irish

—Scottish

—German

—French

—Spanish

—Mexican

—Honduran

—Nicaraguan

—Colombian

—Venezuelan

—Brazilian

—Argentinean

—Swiss

—Dutch

—Swedish

—Finnish

—Russian

—Belarussian

—Lithuanian

—Italian

—Japanese

—Chinese (mainland)

—Chinese (Taiwanese; she stopped fucking me after I nicknamed her PRC)

—Chinese (Hmong)

—Korean (South only)

—Vietnamese

—Montagnard

—Cambodian

—Thai

—Laotian

—American Indian (Miccosukee)

—American Indian (Seminole—an actual Seminole, not just an FSU slut)

—Indian (Gujarati)

—Indian (Hindu)

—Indian (Punjabi)

—Indian (Sikh)

—Indian (Tamil)

—Indian (Bengali)

—Iranian (Pashtun)

—Iranian (Persian)

—Saudi

—Afghani

—Palestinian (I asked her, “Where is that country on the map?” She got MAD.)

—Turkish

—Eritrean

—Israeli (real Israeli, not some Jappy American girl—though I’ve fucked plenty of those too)

—Egyptian

Why?

You may be asking yourself, “What is wrong with this guy? Why have a Sexual To-Do List”? If you’re asking that question, you clearly don’t know anything about me, and I’m not exactly sure why you’re reading this book at all. Maybe you picked it up by accident, so in the spirit of tolerance, I’ll explain.

Compiling a Sexual To-Do List started out about bragging rights. I couldn’t be the center of attention with my friends that day in the law school, and I hated it, so I refused to let it happen again. Now when I’m at a bar with my friends and we start comparing hookups, I have a full clip, one in the chamber, and the safety set to full auto. When someone asks, “Who’s fucked twins?” or “Who’s fucked a deaf girl?” I can be the one who proudly raises his hand and says, “Both.” It’s the ultimate win in male one-upmanship.

And it pays out dividends forever. 20 years from now, when I’m retired from the game and married with five kids, and PWJ calls to brag that his daughter was named a Rhodes scholar, I can say, “I fucked one of those.” See what I mean?

If you’re a man who has friends, you understand bragging rights. If you’re a woman scoffing at how stupid men are to care about something so pointless, think about how it differs from competing over shoes, handbags, and diamonds. Exactly.

Most of what we do—men and women—is ultimately about some sort of status seeking. If you care only about meaningful things and not the silly status competitions most people get into, then you have my congratulations, because you’re a bodhisattva. Say hi to the Dalai Lama for me and tell him I follow him on Twitter.

This may not be a completely satisfactory answer, because honestly, it’s not the whole answer. There’s also the element of conquest. Like when the reporter asked George Mallory why he attempted Mount Everest (30 years before Edmund Hillary succeeded). His response: “Because it’s there.” Same thing I answered when a reporter asked me why I wanted to fuck a midget: “Because she’s down there.” It’s just a natural thing for a guy, when he sees something that others think is unattainable, to attain it, just for the sake of being able to say he’s done it.

One of my favorite documentaries,
Man on Wire
, addresses this issue perfectly. It’s about Philippe Petit, the guy who rigged a tightrope between the World Trade Center towers, then spent 45 minutes walking back and forth. As soon as he got down, the press asked him why he would do such a thing. He looked at them confused, as if he couldn’t even understand the need to ask the question:

“There is no why. When I see three oranges, I juggle. When I see two towers, I walk.”

I would add humbly, “And when I see a midget, I fuck.”

Current Status of the List

At this point, I’ve retired the list and closed it to new entries because, come on—at what point does novelty turn into absurdity? Like a curve forever approaching its asymptote but never touching it, I could potentially add to the list forever. To sleep with every possible type of girl, you have to sleep with every girl. I like women, and I like having sex with them, but that’s just not reasonable. I want to do things besides fuck—like write about fucking.

Besides, if the point of all of this is conquest and bragging rights, and I have both of those in spades, why keep going? There’s always another mountain to climb. I’m stopping at a reasonable point, taking a moment to be proud of my accomplishments, and then moving on the next challenge. Like having a healthy, loving, committed relationship.

Beyond that, I was stretching the limits of what even I was willing to do. Everything worthwhile that was left was disconcerting to me. For example, I met a cute blind girl who seemed into me, but I couldn’t do it. She had those milky, dead, cataract eyes, and they moved independently of each other, like a gecko’s. She was drunk and kept feeling my face, and… I don’t want to accuse a cripple of being inappropriate, but I swear she spent extra time on my eyes, like she was trying to determine if they were the right size to fit in her head. FREAKED ME OUT. I’m passing.

For a time, I did seriously consider conjoined twins. The problem is that there are only like 10 sets of female conjoined twins in the world, and they are all horribly deformed. (Seriously, I researched it.) If I have sex with a girl only because I want to extend the list, that crosses the line from funny-yet-enjoyable to creepy-and-pathological. Most of the fun in the list is not in the collection but in the journey: finding someone you want to hook up with who is also on the list, the experiences you and your friends have along the way, and the hilarious memories you accrue. That, and being able to brag that I fucked an amputee, of course.

Some of the things on the list are kinda pedestrian, things you and your friends have probably all done. Some others are pretty cool but still definitely attainable. And some are just straight-up amazing. Put them all together and it’s like a straight flush of bragging rights. You may have the high card, but I have the better hand.

Shit, just take my three favorites: an amputee, a pair of twins, and a midget. By itself—without looking at anything else on the list—that is a legendary trifecta. How many other people can say they have done that?
Seriously, raise your hand if you even KNOW someone who has done that. I’m sure I’m not the only guy on earth who has done it, but I bet you could fit all of us into a Prius.

These are the stories of those three.

T
HE
A
MPUTEE
S
TORY

Occurred—September 2005

As a general rule, I try never to hook up with a girl solely because she is a type on my list. Even if I meet a girl who is, say, a paraplegic, I would need a “real” reason to have sex with her, something like, “She’s hot,” or “I like her as a person,” or “She’s the only girl at the bar willing to fuck me.”

The amputee started off as an exception, as just a “type.” A girl I knew worked with a girl who had a leg amputation. She knew about my Sexual To-Do List, and she offered to set me up with the amputee.

Tucker “I don’t know. What if I don’t like her? If I hook up with her only because of her amputated leg, that would be gross. She’s already physically gross; I don’t think I can handle being both emotionally and physically repulsed.”

Friend “Tucker, trust me on this. I know you and I know her. Not only is she hot, she is very much your type, and you are hers. You two will love each other. I’d set you up even if she had all her limbs.”

Tucker “You are the best gimp pimp ever.”

I email her and quickly realize that my friend was right: Not only were her pics pretty hot—a legit four star—she seemed cool. And she was clearly naughty. No doubt this one was down to fuck.

We met up and she was even better looking in person. Then she told me the story of how she lost her leg in a car accident and made a joke about it:

Tucker “So you’re cool with jokes about your leg?”

Peggy “Yeah, of course. It’s no big deal.”

Tucker “Sweet. I’m gonna run with this.”

Had she not been missing a leg, it would have just been a normal night out with a fun girl and nothing to write about. But the amputation combined with her sense of humor made for some good exchanges:

Tucker “What do you want for dinner? A foot-long maybe?”

Peggy “I’m gonna ask the waiter, he’ll give me a leg up.”

Tucker “NICE! You’re better at this than I am.”

Peggy “More practice.”

Tucker “I hope he recommends a beer with lots of hops.”

Tucker “The normal adult body has 206 bones. How many do you have?”

Peggy “Well, I’m missing a tibia and fibula. Plus, how many bones are in the foot?”

Tucker “Not sure. You’ve stumped me.”

Tucker “Seriously, though, if you were a hooker, would you have to charge less because you are missing parts, or more, because some guys will be into that?”

Peggy “Good question. I’m definitely out of the foot fetish game, I know that.”

Tucker “Well, you could do it, but you could only charge half.”

Tucker “So what’s it like to play Twister with you?”

Peggy “I prefer Monopoly. I’m always the shoe.”

Tucker “Your favorite movie has to be
My Left Foot
. What about your favorite song? ‘Jump Around’ by House of Pain?”

Peggy “‘Runnin’, by Tupac.”

Tucker “This is weird for me. I’ve fucked hundreds of women with amputated self-esteem, but none with amputated limbs.”

Peggy “How about one with both?”

Tucker “I think I love you.”

After dinner we went back to the hotel and I watched her take off her prosthetic. It was less exciting than I’d hoped. In my dreams, I envisioned something like the scene in the original
Star Wars
when Darth Vader is woken from his sleep and puts on his mask. Unfortunately, there was no cool whooshing noise or release of carbon gas. She just slid it off and dropped it to the floor with a dull thud. The only thing that could have been more disappointing would have been if she had both her legs.

What was cool was her stump. It was ticklish, and she giggled and squirmed when I rubbed it. That was awesome, but the kicker was how she could also wiggle her stump. It was spooky. She essentially did the same thing as when she wiggled her toes, but since there were no toes anymore, it just moved the muscles that are still there—and those do wiggle. It creeped me out to the point where I had to make her stop so that I could keep the erection I’d gotten from playing with her prosthetic.