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All right so I’m no swinger, right off rip. But I’ve heard the pillow talk question once every few relationships, fresh off making one of my patented smoked turkey and apple sandwiches.

“Baby, what if I brought you a girl home?” accompanied by that sly playful look that says, “I’m a little more randy than you would even admit to yourself.”

And I respond in kind, like the call for bedroom teammates could bring home that gold medal for our already impressive duo.

My mind chimes in:

“What if you DID bring ME a girl home? But you’re not. You’re bringing up an idea that you’ve seen played out in fictional accounts from T.V. and poorly staged reality shows. You’re bringing home self-doubt if I say ‘Yes, I’d love another woman to be as intimate as possible with me, your man.’ You’re bringing in more sets of feelings than I care to mismanage.”

Even so, the house always wins so there’s no fun if you don’t take risks. Ruin the bird in hand for that “two in the bush”? I’ll take it. You and your loving mate take care to plan this fantasy threesome with another woman, usually setting absurd ground rules for a woman who would never agree to them. There are only terrible outcomes when the Threesome proposition is on the table. After the ambassadors from each side debate about terms (“She can NOT touch you while we…” or “You can NOT blank her when I’m blanking”), we march out into the foreign territory of polyamorous frolicking. I thought I’d see a black president before I saw this moment…but there are so many snags that it won’t work out. Take it from a pro at failed threesomes (and an ILL novice at achieved ones) the obstacles are too psychologically taxing to consider toppling.

Here are the trip wires on the Girl Got A Girlfriend Mission Impossible –

1) Women are inherently competitive. Like we’re competitive, but times 1,000 trillion (c. Kanye) when another woman is in the peripheral scope of her man. What should start out with the team concept ends up being a contest between two very vicious bunnies who would just as soon eat their young as be defeated. Now, a skilled man might be able to handle (and even delegate) roles to the rivals, but Bobby Boyfriend is left in a helpless tangle, hoping not to slight his ACTUAL girl by conceding that he enjoys the brainiac quiz from her freaky friend. [Post-Trauma: “Did you like it when she did that?” “You don’t have to lie…I know you liked it. Just tell me.” “So it was better?” “If you liked it, it must have been better or at least really good.”]

2) Girlfriend wants control in a free-for-all situation. I don’t go to the basketball court playing soccer rules. Dudes would look at me crazy if I did that. I haven’t once walked into a pharmacy expecting a full physical exam from a licensed physician (although I know one in Bed Stuy that has a working MRI in the back.) A threesome should be the stuff of legend. It should be two women and one man going for broke because they know they’ll never do this again — or do it all the time — depending on the person you are. Your girlfriend wants it to be Sex with a Studio Audience. Sex with some salad dressing and a parsley sprig. Sex with a color commentator. No woman who’s solicited for a threesome wants to feel she’s the third wheel, but it’s shorty’s job to keep her out of the picture except to add a shake of this and a pinch of that every once in a while. [Post-Trauma: Eventually, that vehement vibe-killing c*ck block will result in an awkward goodbye that includes two naked people and one clothed person.]

Which brings me to the worst possible snag…

3) The She-Hate-Me Factor – From personal experience, this one stings. You have a fine thick dimepiece who’s into everything you’re into…like everything. “Oh you like breasts? That’s funny ME TOO!” How could I know that this same cute brilliant girl I was falling for tuned into The Box as much as I did? We started off with that same playful conversation and next thing I know I’m walking into a room full of girl sounds…the kind the Skip button on the DVD player will not allow me to push past. Gulp. In my defense, there was NO way I could have known she wanted to Jill and Jill once she’d tried the Jack/Jill combo. Jack’s noooo slouch, after all. In any case, she was tainted in my mind after that. She made me think of that Threesome Utopia the same way car bombers think of the heaven with 72 virgins or whatever… pretty sweet but the biggest sacrifice is yet to come.

The lesson? Worry about y’all getting yours first and last. The moment you take that for granted, there’s a strange lady in your living room, a bottle of wine half-empty and a lot of hollow stares being exchanged at 3 a.m.

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