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Thursday, March 15, 2007

Jet Sex: Romance, Precarity, and the ‘Global Nomad’

filed under: Jet Sex by Melissa Gira | 2 Comments

Once upon a time, we just read wack essays on the convergence of global cultures. We filed away this idea that someday, we’d all be living some rock-star mashed up lifestyle, somewhere between the jet age and information age.

We woke up, and the future was finally sharing our pillow.

Jet sex occupies a liminal space, thrives there. Conference sex may have been the inspiration for jet sex — or maybe it was affair-sex, or even commercial sex: that is, sex that truly flourishes as it is tightly contained in time and space. As our lives expand to include more global travel, less location-based employment, and a more densely networked social and professional sphere, jet sex may be the defining sex of the 21st century. Loosed from marriage, loosed from relationships, even: jet sex is the province of the individual, colliding with other individuals, in momentary collaboration.

However, as the economic conditions that make jet sex possible are anything if not precarious, jet sex itself contains that precarity. Sex becomes not something that we fall into, soft onto the bed and fade to black. Jet sex may seem less ’spontaneous,’ but reveals how sex operates when everyone’s cards have to be on the table. The greatest motivator — getting laid — ‘forces’ us to be more forthright. In other words, if we’re going to fuck at all, we need to actively make a plan, make time, and then, if the stars are aligned and the server didn’t crash and everyone’s flight gets in as scheduled, make love.

This isn’t a new problem, of course. But as in all sex futurism, where others see a bug, we see a feature. Jet sex might be the place we end up when each of us has the potential to be our own global microbrand, all narcissists hunting pleasure where we can squeeze it in — or, it might just how we’re going to do it in the future to come.

Consider the following perhaps fabricated pamphlet circulated in what may be a fictional document on “ubiquitous precarity,” or, the condition of the information age worker — temporary, part-time, always-on, and mobile as sin:

GeoTAZ!
A Network of Oases for Global Nomads!
An Alternative Off-the-Grid Infrastructure for Activists and Others!
A Fun Use for all your Location Aware Wireless Mobile Devices!
A Weekend Hobby for Web Warriors and Code Jockeys!
A Job Finder for Knowledge Workers and Tiger Teams!

Membership in GeoTAZ includes access to:
The Oases: mobile, hidden quarters and supplies for living, working, resting and refueling in cities and parks throughout the Northeast.

The Secret Missions: weekend adventures for fun and profit. Hunt for caches, track and transport items across the country, around the world, or in your neighborhood. Discover a hidden city overlaid on the one you thought you knew, or get out of your well-worn groove and do some guided exploring. Attend a political rally, a house party, or a business meeting, and meet other like minded individuals.

Though it may be all fantasy, within this desire for a revamped workaday world, where work itself is more like play and we find new spaces in which to play/work together, I can see an opening for a reorganized sex culture, as well. Whether it’s the advent of co-working, open source, barcamps and unconferences (which, psst, the queers and feminists and radicals have been at for years, just with less wifi), it’s clear that finding a way to support an independent, mobile, jet set lifestyle with community-driven periods of reconnection is an emerging need. In this context, jet sex is bucking up against ‘the old sex,’ of two-by-two, until death do us part.

We’ll endeavor to document this new sex culture here, lest jet sex be all ideal and no action.

Thursday, March 8, 2007

Places To Make Out: The Brooklyn Promenade, Brooklyn

filed under: Jet Sex by Lux Nightmare | Leave a Comment

New York — and Manhattan in particular — is a crowded, dense city. Wherever you go, you’re rarely alone. Even at home, there’s usually someone else around: roommates are par for the course in this city, even as people pass out of young adulthood and into “real” adulthood — economics require it.

There’s something about these close quarters that seems to make public sex de rigeur (or at least somewhat common): when private space is an expensive commodity, when we’re so used to being surrounded by people no matter where we go, the lines between private and public begin to blur. Sex ceases to be a wholly private activity, and moves out into the public sphere.

That’s not quite my story, but it’s close. See, I used to date two boys at once.

One was my live-in boyfriend. One was my other boyfriend.

My live-in boyfriend lived with me in a chichi Union Square apartment. This was fine.

My other boyfriend lived with his parents. This was not.

Sometimes I had enough notice from my other boyfriend to schedule alone time with him — to make sure that my live-in boyfriend would be elsewhere while I made use of the apartment.

But often, that wasn’t the case: my other boyfriend had a habit of making plans at the last minute, of calling me out of the blue to say that he suddenly had some free time and wanted to see me.

This is how I became acquainted with public sex.

My other boyfriend called me up at 1am one night. We hadn’t seen each other in a while. He asked if I wanted to get food with him.

Half an hour later, I met him at San Loco. Not long after that, we were looking for somewhere to fuck.

The Brooklyn Promenade was his idea.

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Thursday, March 1, 2007

Waxing Off in New Delhi

filed under: Jet Sex by Lux Nightmare | 1 Comment

From 2/18 to 2/25, Lux traveled through India, hitting up Delhi, Agra, and Varanasi. This week she reports back on her experiences.

The waxing was my sister’s idea.

Well, not the waxing, per se: it was my sister’s idea for me to go to a salon while in India.

“You can get whatever you’d have done in America for a fraction of the price,” she said.

I was the one who decided on waxing. It was really the only thing that held any interest for me: it’s not cheap in America (the place I go to, which is a serious bargain, runs me US$30 (tip included)), and I was due for my next session.

“Do they do, you know, everything?” I asked, unsure if a full Brazilian was de rigeur in New Delhi.

“Oh yeah,” my sister said. “Indian women hate hair.”

“They’ll probably do a really good job,” her boyfriend chimed in. “Indian women are pretty hairy.”

This is how I found myself in Khan Market, in a salon at the end of a busy alleyway. Looking at the price list, I found myself stunned: Rs125 (about US$3) for half legs. Rs300 (about US$7) for bikini.

At prices like these, I’d be crazy not to try it.

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Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Room Service: The Shanti Guest House

filed under: Jet Sex, Room Service by Lux Nightmare | Leave a Comment

At Sexerati, we believe that there’s nothing quite so hot as a romantic weekend (or evening, or lunch break) at the perfect hotel. But how to know which hotels are tryst-worthy, and which are strictly business? In Room Service, we check in to (and check out) hotels so you don’t have to. Up this week: The Shanti Guest House, in Varanasi, India.

If you’re going to Varanasi, you have two choices when it comes to accommodations: you can stay in a nice, modern hotel in the new part of the city, or you can stay in a spartan guest house in the old city. Since I wanted to be near the river (the main reason one goes to Varanasi), I opted for the latter, swapping a bit of comfort for convenience at the Shanti Guest House.

Atmosphere: The Shanti Guest House is a popular choice among travelers, and it’s not hard to see why: it’s clean, brightly colored, and the rooftop restaurant has a gorgeous view of the Ganges.

The Shanti is also extremely spartan, which has its pluses and minuses.

It also attracts a lot of hippies, which accounts for the minuses. Especially when the hippies have late night Jimi Hendrix jam sessions. Unless, you know, you’re into getting it on to bad renditions of the hits of the sixties.

Amenities: Guest houses (which rent out double rooms at Rs200 (about US$5) per night) are run on the cheap, and don’t have room for frills. Be prepared to bring your own toiletries, toilet paper, a sheet, shower shoes, and just about anything else you think you might need (and be sure to book a room with an attached bathroom: many of the rooms require guests to use a communal bathroom down the hall. While there’s a certain charm to that set up, it’s not really conducive to a hot weekend in bed.).

On the plus side, they do supply you with a blanket.

Facilities: Indian beds tend to be rather hard (no box springs here), so I was pleasantly surprised to find that the beds at the Shanti Guest House were actually rather comfortable. It was odd to note, however, that the “double bed” was actually two twin beds pushed together (Fifties nostalgia? Low budget? Your guess is as good as mine).

Moving on to the more important matters: what the Shanti lacks in, well, most areas, it makes up for with its shower. Unlike their Western counterparts, Indian showers lack walls: the shower is simply a wall-mounted faucet in the middle of the bathroom, making the entire bathroom into a shower.

Overall: C+. If you’re determined to have a romantic weekend in Varanasi (and you very well might be: it’s a beautiful place and a relaxing getaway), the Shanti is a pretty good bet. It’s clean, the rooftop restaurant has a wonderful view, and it’s just a few steps from the river (and there is something to be said for the romantic potential of roughing it with someone).

However, if you’re hoping for a pampered weekend away, you’ll probably want to steer clear of the Shanti: it lacks the amenities usually associated with hotels, and requires a lot of effort on your part. And really, isn’t the whole of getting it on at a hotel having someone else take care of all the details?

That, and the hippies can really get to you after a while.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Places to Make Out: Lodhi Gardens, New Delhi

filed under: Jet Sex by Lux Nightmare | 5 Comments

From 2/18 to 2/25, Lux traveled through India, hitting up Delhi, Agra, and Varanasi. This week she reports back on her experiences.

Should you find yourself feeling amorous in New Delhi, you might want to head over to Lodhi Gardens. This beautiful park, dotted with tombs dating back to the 16th century, is a favorite spot for local lovebirds. According to my Delhi sources, late afternoon on the weekends is prime time for Lodhi Garden make outs: as the happy families pack up their picnic baskets and head home, couples start to make themselves more comfortable, hiding under their blankets, heading for the bushes, and getting down to some good old fashioned public loving.

These amorous outings aren’t just driven by exhibitionism: for many couples, they’re born out of simple necessity. Since most young Indians live with their parents, heading home for a quicky isn’t really an option; and a motel — even a sleazy motel — is a bit of a stretch for an Indian budget. Enter Lodhi Gardens: scenic, romantic, and with plenty of bushes and hideaways for discreet (or not so discreet) afternoon love.

Public sex is often associated with cruising — but the vibe at Lodhi Gardens is more about connecting with an established partner than finding a new one. Lodhi Gardens doesn’t act as host for a casual pickup scene, it provides a semi-private retreat for lovers who lack access to a private space of their own. When private space is at a premium, public space often steps in to make up the difference: as a result, Lodhi Gardens has become the Make Out Point of New Delhi.

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