Just a Number

I was sitting on a table in my doctor's office, wearing one of those humiliating light blue paper robes. It had been over a year since my last check-up. The doc sat in front of me on a stool, and asked me a bunch of questions about myself, like medical history, allergies, etc. Then she asked, "How many sexual partners have you had in the last year?" At first, I thought she was asking me how many sexual partners I had in my entire life, which if you think about it, is a very personal question. So I thought about it for a second, gave her an answer, and then later realized I was off by one (I overestimated). She put her folder away and began the physical exam. I resisted the temptation to say "Excuse me doctor, I was off by one, the number is actually X, not X + 1. Could you please go back into your office, retrieve my folder and correct that? Thanks." It seemed like too much effort over a miscalculation of 1. And the number was so small that it didn't seem to matter that much (see past blog entries where I complain about not getting any and how it's been a while).

Then I reflected over my Number. I don't think anyone, not even my vault of my most intimate and scandalous secrets, the Naysayer, knows. I remember how in my holy moly days, I wanted to wait until I got married. If I had, I'd be a 28-year-old virgin today. How different I would be... Well, knowing me, I'd have probably gotten married just so I could get some.

They say age is just a number. Is the Number just a number? Or does it reflect something about ourselves, in the present? A reformed mimbo (male bimbo) could have had 100 sexual partners in his life, but in the present be a monogamist; while another person could have had only two, but that's because she married the guy she lost her virginity to at age 13 and cheated on her husband last week with another guy. And a person with two one-night stands has less sexual experience than a person who has been in a long-term relationship with one person for five years.

So perhaps the Number doesn't truly reflect who you are as a person or your sexual practices in the present (how wonderful it would be if we could delete our "errors in judgment" from our memories and our Numbers?). Indeed people use the Number as a proxy for sluttiness and sexual prowess. Yet it's the sum of one's personal experiences that defines who one is, not a Number.

All that notwithstanding, I still want to correct that number in my doctor's folder.