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Michael in the City Why There Are No Rules With Sex

I’d like to thank my friends, family (especially my mom) and members of the Academy. Oh, wait. Wrong speech. No, seriously. My inaugural column for ‘Michael In the City’ was really a big hit. I never had so many Facebook comments, Tweets, text messages and BBM’s from everyone. And I realize why, it’s because I’m being brutally honest and not holding back. My recent columns are coming from my soul.
“Don’t you think you’ve pissed off a few people,” my old business partner asked me about my Art Basel coverage. My response was rhetorical. “Don’t you think I like pissing people off?? This column is about opinion.”
With that said, at a holiday party held at the house of my dear friend Melissa Sheppard, a new acquaintance Channing Norton (I swear I couldn’t make up that name if I tried — okay, maybe I could) tells me how much she likes my columns, but feels my morality is askew. “Michael,” she said with a sense of authority, “You know the reason you’re 40 and single is because you’re a slut.”
I did the gay finger snap. “First of all, I’m not 40,” I replied, half devastated. I really am close to that number, but still. I then inserted an indignant second finger snap. “Two, I am not wasting three dates only to find out a guy has a small penis. That’s never going to work for me.”
And so a lively dinner debate ensues, where I argue that a big brain and heart are as equally as important as a big package and that the quicker — and I don’t necessarily mean the first date — I gather evidence, the easier it is to draw a verdict if this is a case I should pursue. She rebuts with what I consider a lame fight: the more you make men wait, the more they want you.
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