Datskovsky: One of my high-school teachers reads my columns, and almost every time he tells me the same thing—it was just like this in the sixties, only then they didn’t talk about it.
Klein: Sex has become “no big deal” to a lot of people. That isn’t always a good thing. My father sat me down when I was a teenager and said, “I never want sex to become no big deal to you. Respect yourself enough to do it with someone who’s worthy.” That was a big lesson.
Cutler: To some people, sex is like a handshake.
Nersesian: That’s sad.
Cutler: Not necessarily. It’s different for everybody. I can have good sex with every fourth person. No biggie. But do I get along with them? That’s important.
Sohn: Do you have therapists?
Datskovsky: I used to.
Bussel: I used to.
Cutler: This therapist told me, “You’re in your twenties. You’re promiscuous. Big deal. It’s symptomatic of ADD. You get bored easily. You’re thrill-seeking. The thrill-seeking behavior is what is disturbing to me. You just need to be on medication.”
Sohn: So are you?
Cutler: Of course: Strattera. It’s just an antidepressant medication. It helps me write faster. Actually, when I wrote my book, I got Adderall from my friends, and I was typing like a maniac. And that’s the thing, yeah, that and snorting coke helped me write the book really fast.
Sohn: Have you ever dated a fan?
Cutler: Some guy came to my reading and I went with him. I still see him. He’s a great guy . . .
Sohn: Did you sleep with him?
Cutler: Oh, yeah, of course. I’ve dated a couple of fans. Why not?
Sohn: Aren’t you afraid that someone is going to be totally psycho?
Cutler: I love the psycho ones! What’s he going to do, kill me?
Cutler: What a relief that would be.
Sohn: What is the most memorable response that you’ve ever gotten from a reader?
Bussel: The weirdest e-mail I got was this guy wanted to take me to Yankee Stadium and wanted to spank each other in the middle of the stands.
Cutler: I don’t get a lot of mail, but I see it on other blogs, and I don’t read other blogs, but friends will send it to me and say, “Oh, so funny, read this! This guy is totally making fun of you.” And it’s always about my Playboy pictorial and how I looked.
Sohn: How much did you show?
Cutler: Everything! I did nude.
Klein: Do you worry about having kids someday and what they will think?
Cutler: I don’t want kids.
Nersesian: Are you sure? You’re only 27.
Klein: I definitely want children, and I hope that I will be honest with them and say, “Look, this is what Mommy does.” Your sexuality is part of who you are.
I, for one, am already dreading the inevitable day when my daughter tells me my work has ruined her life. But by then, my writing will probably seem less revolutionary than quaint.
Sohn: Does a column improve or worsen your sex life? It made mine worse—a lot of guys were afraid of being written about.
Datskovsky: It’s made for some awkward moments. Every guy on campus who doesn’t know me assumes that because I write the column, I want to sleep with them.
Klein: One guy said, “I like you, but I’m very private and I don’t feel comfortable.” And I got upset. A lot of guys would write in and say, “No guy is ever going to want to date you because you write so openly and honestly about this stuff,” and I’d say, “Then he’s not the guy for me.”
Cutler: I’ve only benefited from mine. The quality of guys has actually gone up, just moving to New York. They don’t care what people say.
Sohn: Do you have a boyfriend?
Cutler: I have, like, seven.
Sohn: Do they all know about each other?
Cutler: They will now.
Cutler goes downstairs, and the photographer gathers us for a few pictures. Elise wants to know if she’s the only one alarmed by Jessica’s opinions, and Stephanie assures her that she’s not. Twenty minutes later, a New York staffer is sent down to retrieve Jessica and finds her flirting with the bartender. She’s escorted back upstairs, where we pose, smiling, like the best of friends.