By David Gales

Dear Binston Swongo, 

 I have a lovely partner here at Grinnell, and the two of us have a great sex life. We met at the Hardee’s our first year, before it closed down. I can still remember when our eyes first met and I saw their pupils dilate as they ordered a signature Hand-Breaded Chicken Sandwich. From that very moment, I knew that I had to have them. They railed me two hours later.

Since then, I’ve gotten a house off-campus with a few friends, and my bedroom has proven to be much more comfortable than the HSSC classrooms we normally use. But, I’ve run into a bit of a problem–my roommates play really loud music a lot of the time, and I’m starting to worry that they can’t hear me having sex. 

Don’t get me wrong, most of them have great taste in music. My roommate Andy plays in a band on campus (he plays bass guitar, glockenspiel, and countertenor accordion) and the tunes I can hear coming from his room are AMAZING pretty much every time. My partner and I have started to bone in rhythm to them, but I can’t help but feel like with the music so loud, our passionate lovemaking is going completely unappreciated. 

My friends have always been appreciators of the arts–I already talked about Andy’s band, but it goes way beyond that. Tim is a painter–he paints Andy’s feet and then cracks a whip while making him run across the canvas. And Amelie is a filmmaker! She’s submitted three videos to Tithead every year for the past 7 years. She’s still struggling to graduate, but we’re all really proud of her. 

Anyway, my partner, who will remain anonymous for the sake of privacy, has sex with me probably around twice a day, three times on weekends. We’re always pretty loud (I have trouble keeping quiet after they bring out The Machine™) but as of now, we haven’t received a single comment from my household to keep it down. The neighbors downstairs have filed seven noise complaints against our apartment so far this year, and not a single one of them was because we had sex! One was for the time our water heater exploded after we tried to make spaghetti in it, and then there were the five times that Tim got too rowdy while we were hosting parties and launched himself out of a cannon, claiming he was “like Gonzo from the Muppets” and that this was going to be his big break. The last noise complaint happened last week, and it was because of the fucking music! 

You can imagine how I’m feeling. Despite my very best efforts, I can’t seem to get my roommates to talk to me about my prolific and lascivious sex life. All I want is for them to call me a slut once and I’ll be satisfied, but I’ve tried every passive-aggressive move in the book, including writing to this advice column. What should I do? 


Loss for Words 


Dear Loss for Words,

Thank you for your insightful letter. I don’t feel particularly comfortable commenting on this situation, but have you considered that your roommates are just jealous? If your sex life is so good, I can only imagine that they feel inadequate. Try asking them to join next time. That always works for me! Remember that sex isn’t a competition, and that it’s always more fun with friends. There has never been a scenario in which sleeping with your entire household has gone wrong. 

Hope this helps! 


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