Dirty Dancing, Indeed

To my deep regret, I stopped into The Loft Friday night.

The spot I once enjoyed (at an earlier time in my life) now offers little more than a sweaty mass of horny freshmen, and no space to move or stand or breathe.

I went to meet up with a group of old high school friends and agreed to dance with one of them, only to discover that dancing with a guy can tell you everything you need to know about what he'll be like in bed.

It's no secret that the dancing we do downtown is just simulated sex, anyway. Like a less-than-complicated mating ritual, we can decide on the spot whether or not it's worth our wild to go home with a guy ... or duck out after one dance.

Because there are no secrets on the dance floor.

We can weed out the assholes and the virgins and the gay guys.

If he's thrusting his crotch around in a lost and confused manner, or if he seems in awe of the fact that a girl is actually willing to rub her ass against his groin for an extended period of time, you've probaby got yourself a grade A virgin.

If he's pounding you mercilessly with his denim cock (to quote Dane Cook) as if he was already doing the deed, he's probably the kind of guy who'd finish in two minutes and then get up and leave, without nary a thought to satisfying your needs.

Because if he doesn't care about your comfort and pleasure on the dance floor, he's going to care even less in bed.

The guy you want is smooth -- he wants to make you comfortable and happy, not get off inside his pants.

His dance style is gentle but firm, and he knows how to put the moves on you without violating your space.

My friend was not this guy.

His dance style -- which amounted to beating me with his crotch -- told me he was both a virgin and a two minute man.

I soon turned tail and moved on in search of better mate material, a little sorer than before.

Everyone loves a happy uterus

The price of safe sex has gone up.

Last week, the Red&Black reported that the price of discounted birth control pills through the University Health Center has risen and will continue to rise due to changes in the federal budget.

I found this out myself when I renewed my prescription last Thursday and paid $17 per pack instead of $14. This is the current rate for Ortho Tri Cyclen Lo without insurance coverage.

That translates to an extra $36 per year -- enough to buy a new pair of Rainbow sandals (currently on sale at Charbon's for about that price!)

Luckily, this is still a discounted rate, but as the price rises, it may discourage girls from purchasing the pills in the future.

And this is a shame, since birth control is one of the best forms of preventing unwanted pregnancy out there.

To draw on Dane Cook, there's no "ha ha" here.

More expensive pills mean more girls without protection.

In the future, young women who are forced to weigh the benefits of birth control against a higher price may start thinking, "I won't be having sex THAT often," or "I don't have THAT much sex."

They'll start deciding that if they only have sex two or three times a month (that's already paying $6 per encounter -- enough to buy an entire box of condoms) that the cost won't be worth it.

There's nothing wrong with condoms, of course, when they're used correctly. But we can already see how well they worked in "Knocked Up."

Ok, not the best example, but all the guys and gals who engage in hook-up culture after drinking downtown are more likely to forget to use a condom at all or be in no state of mind to put it on properly.

Guys should be concerned, because this affects them, too.

If fewer young women are on the pill, it places more responsibility on the male to take measures to prevent pregnancy.

Some guys out there assume they don't need to provide condoms when they hook up with a girl because "she's on the pill." Some even assume most girls are on the pill, and go around spreading their seeds without a care.

No more, if the price of having safe sex rises. Responsible guys will have to provide condoms or pitch in to help their girlfriends carry the financial burden of protection.

Unfortunately, the bottom line is that birth control is a preventative measure, which makes paying for it like paying for insurance.

Everybody hates paying insurance because, if nothing happens to you, it feels like a waste of money. But when something does happen, that cost seems a small price to pay.

If that something is a bun in your oven, compare more than $250,000 (the average cost of raising a child, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture) to $36.

Those new Rainbows aren't looking so hot anymore.

So, promiscuous ladies, suppress your frugal tendencies and shell out for the pills. Your wallet might feel the crunch, but your uterus will be happy.

And everyone loves a happy uterus.