Vagina Killer (vah-ji´nah kil′ər) noun: 1. The thing that an otherwise acceptable man can do or say on a date to ensure that he will never get into your pants. Ever. Vagina killers are the worst. Ex: Say you’re on a date with a perfectly charming, perfectly smart, perfectly handsome, perfectly eligible prince named Ryan or something. You are excited! Things are going well! And then he drops the one thing that will ensure your vagina is closed for business to him for all eternity. Like he tells you he has a great relationship with his cat; in fact, they are best friends. For a non-allergic cat lover, that might be a vagina awakener, but for me, a very allergic, non-cat loving person: vagina DOA. I’m sorry, Ryan (or whatever your name was) — you were in the running before you KILLED MY VAGINA.
The point being, vagina killers are very personal and specific, but we all have them. Even Reese Witherspoon, who recently talked about her vagina being slayed on a blind date. “I had someone correct my grammar on a blind date once, and I knew within the first ten minutes that the date was over. I don’t even remember what I said – I probably said ‘ain’t.’ Just don’t correct my grammar. I’m from Tennessee. I probably say everything wrong.” While I am a big fan of proper grammar, I still feel Reese’s pain. After the jump, some more deadly vagina killers. Please share yours in the comments.
- Lots of chitchat about how busy you are at work and how stressful your job is renders our vagina lifeless. Work = not sexy.
- Dave Matthews [or insert your least favorite band here] is your favorite band of all time? Call the vaginamedics.
- Itemizing the bill. If you don’t pay, it’s not a total vagina killer. But if you’re straight-up itemizing how much each of us owes … dead down below.
- Mandals send vagina into cardiac arrest.
- Being rude to the bartender or waiter or anyone, really. Vagina doesn’t tolerate that kind of behavior.
- If you have zero ideas on places you want to go or things you want to do on the date, vagina yearns to commit suicide.
- Insult me or something I do, insult my vagina. Like the guy who went on for like three minutes about how he hates bloggers. Guess what I do?
- Talking incessantly(!) about his mother. Gasp, sputter, sputter, cough, die.
- Recapping long segments of television shows or movies I haven’t seen (WHY?). Vag either is dead or just sleeping.
- Mention the word “vagina” during our date and it’s like saying “MacBeth” backstage … a curse.
- If you’re on a diet, my vagina is starving herself.
- Please note: it’s OK if you’re poor! But complaining about your money troubles will not get vagina to play.
- Share your ultra-sexist views with me (you believe women were born to change diapers) and the vag will have a cause to die for.
- You want to talk about sex with your ex? Vagina? Vagina? Are you still there? She’s gone.
- Mumblers beware: If I can’t hear you, neither can my deceased vagina.
