Guest Post: When getting fucked changes its meaning

Dear Sexless,

Let’s be honest, Peace Corps is not for the weak, and I’m not talking about the life-changing, child-serving white savior our kind of nonsense. I’m talking about being in my late 20’s in a town full of ‘almost-old-enough-to-drink’ boys that think yelling ‘bonjour’ at me is foreplay. Getting laid here is no joke, or no, it’s exactly that, the only fucked I am is the kind when I make five trips to my Gendarme and no one has apparently heard of a Carte de Séjour. When you live in a town the same size as your high-school, you know the pickings are slim. And beyond the kiddie sized pool of peach fuzzed prospective suitors — when you live in a town this small you can hardly say the word sex without every khalti, tata or khiti knowing what you’re thinking. Plus trying to sex someone here comes with a side of, ‘Can you help me buy a motor?’ Or ‘Do you want to pay for my bus tickets to Agadir?’. So with everyone in a 50 mile radius out of contention, who does that leave?

Cordially,

Underwhelmed & Undersexed

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