B&Bs Aren't for the Making of Hot Monkey Love

Dear Dategirl,I've met a terrific new woman—demure, successful, and hot. It's almost time we check out the overnight compatibility. My friend, who owns a B&B, has informed me of the new protocol for today's discreet career woman. In short, no more "My place or yours?"Nowadays, she picks the place and makes the reservation—preferably a nice, secluded B&B—and even pays, at least to secure the reservation, and checks us in while I stay low and cool. This way she feels comfortable, in charge, in control, and very sexy in a neutral location. If things work out, we stay the weekend and I come out of it a keeper. Is this the real deal?—Impressed

Do you remember that scammy DeBeers ad campaign from a few years ago? They started urging women to buy their own morally repugnant rocks as some misguided indicator of independence. Unlike an engagement ring, this one was to be worn on the right ring finger. The ad read: "Your left hand says 'we.' Your right hand says 'me.' Your left hand rocks the cradle. Your right hand rules the world."Unfortunately, the ad did not mention what the fully extended middle digits of both hands said, because those are the fingers I offered DeBeers by way of reply. I'm bringing this up because your letter gave me the same urge to flip the bird. Are you shilling for the homespun hospitality industry?Have you ever been to a bed and breakfast? I have. And unless I'm forced to at gunpoint, I never will again. Sorry, B&B owners of America—nowhere is less conducive to the making of the hot monkey love than a quaint little bed & breakfast.The first roadblocks to romance are the inevitably chatty proprietors. When you're getting ready to get down—especially for the first time with a new partner—the last thing you want is to make obligatory small talk over scones. Old people who look like your parents and ask a lot of questions are but the first of many sex deterrents you will meet. Why not just get busy on Dad's Barcalounger while he and Mom argue over his cholesterol level in the next room?I don't know where you got the idea that you'll hang out in the car while your woman checks you in. This isn't some low-rent, no-tell-motel situation you're walking into; this is someone's home. You can't just sneak in. Unless you've been gifted with the grace of a Ninja, you'll be seen and heard, and in the process probably scare the crap out of the owners. And what the hell is up with the lady bearing all the expense anyway? She's supposed to pay for the privilege of nailing your ass? I don't think so.But let's skip ahead to your room. I'm sure it'll be lovely. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to land the special canopy bed. In fact, it's so special that the owners will deliver a 30-minute monologue on its origins. Perhaps they even conceived their darling daughter on that very same bed. Other mood-enhancing decor choices will include flowered chintz chairs, doilies, toile wallpaper, and—if fate is smiling kindly—a portion of the innkeeper's stuffed animal/creepy doll/glass turtle collection. Nothing says "sexy time" like a shelf full of Precious Moments figurines.There are countless reasons that hotels and motels are preferable sex venues, but the biggest is the anonymity factor. Nobody in the lobby of a large hotel is going to know that you're the couple who kept everyone up howling like banshees and had to call housekeeping for a middle-of-the-night sheets change. Compare that to the accusatory glares you'll be receiving over flapjacks if you dare pump up the hump volume at a B&B.In short, your friend is 100% wrong.dategirl@seattleweekly.com

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