When I was a kid in high school, my dad, who I had stayed with after the divorce, often brought home whoever was at the bar. He’d always play music, really, really loud until at least two or three in the morning. If I tried to turn it off, he’d yell at me. I had trouble sleeping in the first place most of the time, so I was generally pretty messed up in school. The weekend was the only time I was ever able to sleep. So, when this started, it seriously took a toll on my mental stability. I was always tired to the point of jitters.

A couple years ago, I mentioned this while chatting with him and his current wife. She said this was surprising: he’d only ever played music when he screwed her the first time they did it.

He said that’s because he only does it when he wants to forget who he’s with.

I do not play music when I ****.