Home > Editorial, The Industry Cosign > Caution: “Ass Under Glass” Becomes “Dick Behind Bricks”…

Caution: “Ass Under Glass” Becomes “Dick Behind Bricks”…


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It’s never a good idea. Plain and simple. There. I said it.

What, you ask? Using that small emergency  hammer and tapping into your “Ass Under Glass” friendships, a term I’ve adapted from Chris Rock who joked about it in his routine as “dick in a glass case”. Not even CLOSE to as cute as “Ass Under Glass”. I know.

Definition: ”Ass Under Glass” - (n) a friend of the opposite sex who, given the chance,
would be more than willing to dig your back out bed you; but until such an offer
comes they remain “under glass”, not unlike little red “in case of emergency” boxes

The theory is that every male friend a woman has would accept an offer to schtupp her, if it ever came, and that knowing this, all women have a man or two categorized as “Ass Under Glass”, to be broken in case of emergency. Those emergencies could be dry spells, break-up comfort, or just sheer curiosity. I partially agree. While I don’t think that EVERY male friend a woman has sees her in a sexual way, I think that of those that DO, there’s likely one or two whose glass she might break.  But be warned: there are consequences.

Broken glass can never be unbroken..and sometimes…”Ass Under Glass” becomes “Dick Behind Bricks”. Let me set down my trowel and tell you a story.

Many years ago, after a particularly bad break-up, I found myself free for the summer. My girlfriends and I were out all the time: clubs, dinners, brunches…we made the scene. EVERY scene. But the hot men I may have dined or danced with were just fun strangers and nothing more.  There was no real connection, and I probably wasn’t even in the mind frame to look for one. Sure, I was out having a grand ole’ time, but I missed my ex.

Among my support group were a few male pals, one of which was cute, funny, and harmless. He’s the guy pal who I knew would hang a shelf, carry my heavy suitcase as he dropped me off at the airport for a trip with another dude, or go shopping with me and never complain about waiting for me outside the dressing room. It also didn’t hurt that he gave off the “oh my God, please date me!” vibe. He was between relationships as well, available for a random Friday night of antics at the strip club, and soooooo….

…when everyone in our group was tipsy, and his hand slipped a little lower than usual, I didn’t balk. Instead, I broke the glass, and took him home to bed.  Can’t complain either. He hit all the technical high marks. Excellent execution. Strong and effective delivery. Extra points for stamina.  And when we were done…

…I wanted him to leave. =)

But this was different than the usual, “hey, can you stop by and feed the fish for me?” request. He didn’t see what had just transpired as a task to be performed and then individual lives resumed.  Noooo, my friend settled down for the night. But I didn’t fret. “What’s a night of shelter to a good friend?”, I rationalized. If he had come to my door and asked for a place to sleep, would I have said “yes”? Of course! So this was no different, right? Wrong. Right.

Ten minutes later – ::thinking::  “Oh gawd…is that his armon me? Is he tryna cuddle?” ::scoots away::

The next day, we were each up and out with the customary friend farewells. Great! It’s as though nothing happened! WHEW! That cuddle attempt was per functionary I guess. Crisis avoided!

Or not.

Over the next few weeks, I got wayyyy more “hey, whatcha doin?” phone calls than normal. There were even a few random “thought I’d drop by, if you’re home” texts.  And I knew no fish needed feeding, in a tank or otherwise.

::thinking:: “DAMMIT, Eva! What have you done?”

But I knew what I had done. I had given my “Ass Under Glass” false hope. It’s the worst thing you can do to “Ass Under Glass”! You know they serve(d) a temporary purpose! You knew it all along! But sometimes, they don’t know it at all.

THIS, kiddies, is when “Ass Under Glass” must become “Dick Behind Bricks”. Even if it was amazing, you can never go there again.  Maybe you can still be friends, but not with his peen. He missed the second half of the memo, and now it’s just a hassle. Honey, brick up that dick! ::hands you QuickRete::

In my case, I slowly phased out the friendship. There was no way to explain the role he played without hurting his feelings, and I knew that he was never going to land in that top spot OR stop trying to land there.  So, there you have it. ::cleans cement off trowel::

Oh…and…if you’re reading this C.T., don’t be mad. Think of it like that short story by Poe, “The Cask of Amontillado”.  That dude died there. I just made you “Dick Behind Bricks”.

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