How do I get my girlfriend and her friend to have a threesome? | I'm Poly and So Can You

I’m in a hetero relationship with a woman but I’m also attracted to her best friend. We are all old friends. How do I persuade them both to have a threesome with me?

You know what, reader? It’s your lucky day.

Typically I pass over questions like these without a second glance. The real tragedy is in the frequency with which this genre of question gets submitted. To me. By men who obviously have no familiarity with my body of work.

But today, reader - oh TODAY - you caught me on one of those “buy dishes at the Goodwill just so you can go home and smash them in the street” kinda Wednesdays. The kind where I’m sustaining myself on marijuana and peanut M&Ms and stockpiled photos of my dogs cuddling. The kind where I just spent thirty minutes trying to teach myself how to whistle because I had a fleeting certainty that the only way I’d make it through this night was if I acquired a new skill.

As such, let me do my best to concisely answer your question on how you persuade these two goddesses in your life to have a threesome with you:

YOU. MOTHERFUCKING. DON’T.

Personally, I have to admire you for throwing the “we are all old friends” qualifier in there, as if expecting me to pin a goddamn gold star on your chest for waiting so very patiently for these women to fuck you. That particular breed of douche levels you up from “average moron” to “entitled Reddit troll” status.

You know what the world calls “persuading a woman to have sex”, reader? RAPE.

This is why it’s so difficult for women to sustain friendships with heterosexual men. Because we spend all of this irreversible time and emotional energy vetting you to determine your authenticity, your trustworthiness, all the while hoping to high heaven that you won’t be like EVERY OTHER MAN. Hoping that when you laugh at our jokes, or compliment our competency, or offer a shoulder to lean on, it’s not because you’re imagining us with your dick in our mouth. Hoping that when you finally come on to us - as we know you inevitably will - that when we decline your advances, that you won’t cry “friend zone”. Or harass us. Or kill us.

But you know, reader, maybe I’m being just a tad too harsh. It’s not ENTIRELY your fault. Throughout mainstream film and television history it’s not been at all unusual to consume the stereotypical rom com “woman suddenly falls for her male best friend that she’s known forever but only recently realized he was her soulmate” plotline. At the risk of shattering your entire perception of the world and your role in it, I’m here to tell you that this is the rarest of phenomenons. Truly. It hardly ever happens.

So why are cultural scripts like that so pervasive in our society? Because the vast majority of mainstream film and television is written, directed, and produced by heterosexual men. And guess who their target demographic is? Heterosexual men. Think of it as porn, but for your heart. The “devoted best buddy who sticks it out long enough to land the girl” archetype is one that most men find irresistibly appealing, and then are somehow unable to separate that entertainment from the reality of the world. Why? You seem to have no trouble understanding the fact that Keanu Reaves is not ACTUALLY John Wick, or that there isn't actually an entire underground population of Marvel mutants inhabiting the planet. The end result is men feeling entitled to that internalized version of “happily ever after” - entitled to WOMEN - and that entitlement is not only obnoxious and toxic, but highly contagious.

Fuck, I’m tired. This is really good weed. I’ll wrap it up now.

Be better, reader. Be SO much better. No, I’m not going to tell you “how”. The Internet is at your fingertips, and I charge hourly for that. Pray that you turn yourself around and start making reparations for your asshattery before your girlfriend - AND her friend - realize what a tool you are. Although I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that I’m rooting for the femmes. Forever and always.

Ps. Men are trash.

Pps. To my loyal, feminist fan base, I promise I’ll get a “real” column up here just as soon as I stop crawling out of my skin.