The Spreadsheet Slut

The other day I wrote about the crushing defeat of the Bengals on Monday Night Football. Tragic as that was, the real story certainly was the girl I've titled the "Spreadsheet Slut." To give you a little back story, during halftime I ran over to a local bar to catch the 2nd half with a friend of mine. She and I are both in a youth mentoring program in the city and it seemed like a good place to meet some of the other mentors. I roll up just as the third quarter is starting and much like the Bengals I'm already behind. Everyone else is at least 4 drinks deep and my game hasn't even started yet. But people are mostly talking about the kids they work with and it seemed like it wouldn't be too hard to catch up. All of that changed, however, once the Spreadsheet Slut got rolling. Much like Peyton Manning making a mockery of the Bengals defense she launched into a highly awkward discussion of how she keeps an excel file on her computer cataloguing all the people she's slept with/ made out / dated / whatever. Pretty weird right? I've just arrived to the bar and I'm holding out hope that Carson Palmer can make a bold comeback and what do I have to deal with... some plump Indian girl who I've never met before talk about how she loves to catalogue the cock. Perhaps if circumstances were different I could just chalk this up as very quirky. But I doubt it. Pleasant conversation with people you volunteer with should never include a discussion of your apparently voluminous sexual history. Frequently it sounded like she was searching for new additions. Does this seem like a remotely good idea? I know I've come up with some questionable pick-up lines but "let's have sex and then I can mark your name in my ledger" has to go on anyone's Top 5 Worst list. On the brighter side, the Spreadsheet Slut gets my nomination for the Stain Club's Big Stain of the Month Award. I'm sure we'll get a whole column dedicated for that.