Adultery Saturdays: It’s Not About Having The Biggest D*ck In The Room

Psssst. Read this intro in your best infomercial voice, you guys. Deal? DEAL!

Hi. I’m Jessica Manuszak, and you may recognize me from such things as that time I talked about shoving in an espresso-soaked tampon, and then again about my confusing wrinkled skin/acne combo, followed up with a hefty dose of shower crying.
 

Okay, you can go back to reading it normal style.
 

And in case you haven’t noticed, (wink) I’m also a columnist here at The Middle Finger Project. I get stopped in the grocery store…asked all the time…got an email once, asking how I managed to land such a sweet gig. Not only do I write Adultery, but I’m also the Lead Project Manager and Creative Strategist up in this hiz, (and no, I never ever get sick of saying that.)
 

But before I get too into tooting my own horn, (TOOT, TOOT, MOTHERFUCKERS!), I want to tell you a little story.
 

Once upon a midnight dreary time–

 
I was on a date with a very debonair gentleman by the name of Chris, and we were doing the first date thing where he was really into asking me about my job, and I was really into acting like I was really into him, and really not into eating. (Spoiler: Mama loves her cheese. Also, I’m really sorry I just called myself mama.)

 
And while I coyly talked above the rim of my wine glass, red lipstick intact, I regaled the tale of how I spent approximately forever and a day a) cyberstalking Ash, and b) learning the bare bones of building a website. My plan was to keep studying, keep working, keep improving, and launch a plan of attack when I felt ready.
 
When the readiness happened, I called in sick to my job in government finance, and put together a website solely for the purpose of getting Ash to hire me. Three weeks later, after toiling over the design and copy, (and with the website complete), I typed out a three-sentence email, included the link to the site, took a deep breath, and changed my entire life forever. (<—That’s not actually hyperbole, you guys.)
 
But back to the date.
 
After my story, (during which he laughed and gasped and nodded at all of the appropriate times), my date put down his dessert fork and smiled in a way that made me think I could convince him to let me eat steak off his ass, and simply said–
 

“You slapped your dick on the table.”

 
I just sort of stared at him, because I didn’t know Mr. Investment Banker even knew the word dick, let alone went around talking about slapping things with it.
 
“You slapped your dick on the table,” he said again. “And the only people who are confident enough to slap their dick on a table are the people with really good dicks. You’re so confident,” he said. “You’re so brave.”
 
And then I blushed from head to infinity, because apparently I can learn how to sort of build websites, but I still can’t figure out how to take a compliment, and HELLO, DID I MENTION HOW ATTRACTIVE HE WAS?!
 
And then I thought back to the months leading up to me throwing the website at Ash and hoping for the best. How nervous I was. How unsure it was. How my hands were literally shaking when I hit the send button on that one tiny email that let me quit my job dryly crunching numbers and start actually living.
 
My date was totally wrong. I wasn’t confident. I sure as hell wasn’t brave. But I did a damn good job of acting like I was. And that’s the key here–
 

It’s not about having the biggest dick in the room. It’s about making people think you do.

 
So no matter how terrified and uncertain and AHHHHLAKSJELAJSLDJASLDJALURLKASD you feel, just remember that we all feel that way–sort of all the time. But you’ve got to smooth down your hair, put on your Sunday best, and make the coolest shit happen.
 
And if all else fails? Just stuff some socks down your pants. I hear it totally helps you get all the ladies.
 

What BIG THINGS would you make happen if you could find that confidence, (real or fake)? I’m also open to hilarious first date stories. Jump down into the comments and LEMME HAVE IT!

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