gq:

How To Deal With This.
Our sex-and-dating columnist Julieanne  Smolinski tackles an awkward topic in her latest column at GQ.com: how to handle it—what to say, what to think—when the man in your life starts crying. Click here to read the full piece. Our favorite bit is below:

On further reflection, I realized I was surrounded with weepy men. My  best guy friends have dissolved like otter pups over no less than the Lost finale, or an overly fond description of a long-dead parakeet. I’ve  tended to date graduates of the Nick Hornby School for Maudlin Young  Men, and I deal with it poorly. I once ended perhaps one of the most  fulfilling sex-only relationships of my life because the guy cried over a  soccer game.
I never know what to do during these moments. I tend to view crying in  its most literal sense: as fluid squirting involuntarily from an  orifice, and I react accordingly. You know, like if you’d severed your  femoral artery and blood began spraying everywhere. In both cases, I  might offer you a tissue and go, “Don’t…do that.”


Oh god, I’m so glad I’m not dating a cryer anymore.

gq:

How To Deal With This.

Our sex-and-dating columnist Julieanne Smolinski tackles an awkward topic in her latest column at GQ.com: how to handle it—what to say, what to think—when the man in your life starts crying. Click here to read the full piece. Our favorite bit is below:

On further reflection, I realized I was surrounded with weepy men. My best guy friends have dissolved like otter pups over no less than the Lost finale, or an overly fond description of a long-dead parakeet. I’ve tended to date graduates of the Nick Hornby School for Maudlin Young Men, and I deal with it poorly. I once ended perhaps one of the most fulfilling sex-only relationships of my life because the guy cried over a soccer game.

I never know what to do during these moments. I tend to view crying in its most literal sense: as fluid squirting involuntarily from an orifice, and I react accordingly. You know, like if you’d severed your femoral artery and blood began spraying everywhere. In both cases, I might offer you a tissue and go, “Don’t…do that.”

Oh god, I’m so glad I’m not dating a cryer anymore.

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    Oh god, I’m so glad I’m not dating a cryer anymore.
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