Mum used to spit every time we talked about sex. But we only talked sex when she was drunk, so I never got to know whether it was the sex or drink that made her spit. The talk started when I was sixteen years old. At the time, for reasons I wont go into at the moment, only the two of us were living together; dad and my other siblings were miles away. Though I call it a talk, it was not exactly that, it was more of a refrain, same each and every time. A quick one sided conversation that I couldn't tell whether it was said in jest or seriousness.
Those days Mum used to be a big funky woman. She was quite obsessed with 'being different' and setting trends. So she threw out fashion and focused on creativity. The result was disastrous and I doubt whether she ever became a trendsetter. And its the same 'being different' idea that she used in bringing up her family.Whether intentionally or not she didn't want to act as if she was responsible for anyone of us. You know the way a mother feels responsible and protective of her kids, she didn't, at least from the impression of aloofness that she gave. Instead from a very young age we were taught personal responsibility and consequences of choice. She didn't sit us down to give us a lecture on that, that would have come as a shocker in our family, rather she made the phrase "its your life" the equivalent of "I'll beat you" other mothers repeated to their eight year old. Yet "itsyourlife" , said by Mum like a gospel truth, sounded rhetorical when the sin committed didn't affect any of us personally but the whole family. For instance when I was 9 years old Mum bought a new set of glasses and placed them on the table for all of us to admire. Being as clumsy as I was I tripped the table and broke all the glasses. " Itsyourlife" is all she told me.
There were no particular days Mum had set aside to drink; she did it whenever she wanted. I cant remember how the sex talk started, but it became the usual thing to say wherever she came to the house from her drinking and found me awake. Smiling and rolling her eyes she would say " ....I know you are having sex. Do take care of your ahem. And remember nobody more than half your age"... She would then spit on the floor. The spitting and the lines sounded as if they had been lifted from a sitcom or movie. I opted to ignore and not argue with her.
"Nobody more than half your age"..didn't make sense to me until many years and sexual experiences later. I now take it to be some sort of sex constant; that up to some age the best sex for a woman will be with a man older by half her age. Above or below that the results are not so predictable.
I remembered all this last weekend when I had sex with a 78 year old man; the oldest person I have ever slept with. A man of that age wouldn't come driving to the Street, rather he sent a younger man, who was very candid.Immediately I got into his car he told me what to expect. I had a choice to accept or decline the offer. I accepted out of curiosity, and certainly because the money was relatively good. Very soon I will be seeing the man and thus at the moment I'm hesitant to go into details of what exactly transpired, maybe a little later. That said I can state that blue pill or not, a 78 year old man is still a 78 year old man.
As for Mum, she is a changed woman. If I told her what exactly I do for a living she wouldn't say " Itsyourlife", I fear she would blame herself for it until she breaks down mentally.
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