During sex, sometimes things start moving along a little too quickly. When that happens I try the trick that has been handed down through generations of mediocre lovemakers: to prolong the experience, think of something really unsexy. For me, the big problem with this strategy is that by the time it occurs to me to try it, it’s usually too late. The train has already left the station.
Which means that, during the moment of truth, of all the people in the world, the person I’m most likely picturing is someone from the 2001 New York Yankees.
For god’s sake don’t let Gruber see this.