Whether a man measures up or not is immaterial as invariably, it's something we almost never outgrow.
I certainly hadn't, even by my early twenties. But I do remember why I don't engage in such humor.
I was three or four dates into a new relationship with a gal who had dated my younger brother. During the course of one conversation, she revealed that she had indeed dated him. My brother and I traveled in different circles and we never discussed our dating lives, but since we were so different, it had never occurred to me that we'd have a woman in common.
For years before that, the only conversations we ever had about live or sex were largely based around juvenile "size" jokes. My brother wasn't circumcised and of course he was self conscious about this, so perhaps it was natural that his counter to harassment was always an assertion that he had increased length because of this fact.
Nevertheless, we had pretty much outgrown this nonsense by the time I started dating this lovely Hamster we'll call "Patty."
Patty was a nice Jewish girl from the valley and came from money. Outwardly, she was the prim and proper Jewish girl...at least around her family. Around me, she was a Type A "valley girl."
Big hair, tight spandex skirt and a butt that'd make you sit up and beg for Buttermilk were her trademarks. She was way out of my league, but my sense of humor won her over.
After a few dates, things were heating up. I felt a little weird about dating someone my brother had dated, so I was conflicted about whether or not to tell him.
My hand was forced one night when he showed up at a house party just as Patty and I were leaving. Patty was drunk so she was draped over me like a cheap suit. The look on my brother's face was priceless. She muttered something to Him as we walked by along the lines of 'hey, at least I'm keeping it in the family.'
It was awkward for sure, but nothing happened that night as the liquor prevented any shenanigans. She passed out on my bed and I dozed off not long after.
The next morning, I woke to my phone. On the line was my brother, who was clearly not happy. In essence, his position was that she was slumming with me and that we deserved each other.
I explained that I didn't know she had dated him until we were several dates in.
That didn't seem to matter. Meanwhile, Patty woke up and her snide remarks like 'say hi to your brother for me' weren't helping.
My brother grew enraged, questioning my ethics in the process. This, coming from a guy who named all the local party spots after Nazi death camps, didn't sit well with me.
In a rage, I simply replied that maybe my "manhood" was more impressive than his.
Without missing a beat, my brother fired back "yeah, Jewish chicks won't jump on anything that isn't 20% off."
Damn him.
Since I never got far enough with Patty to compare notes, let's just say that that phone call ended two relationships that morning. I haven't spoken to either of them since then. Seriously.
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