I am not the most mannerly of people. I sit with my elbows on the table, I never remember which fork goes with which course and I sometimes forget to cover my mouth when I sneeze.

Nonetheless, after a few too many messy nights in the bedroom, I decided that some guidelines needed to be drawn and some basic rules written down on the etiquette of the blowjob. Thus, the rules:

1. The decision to spit or swallow is ours and ours alone. Any attempt to sway us one way or the other, saying such truly memorable things like, “C’Monday, it has less calories than a handful of M&M’s,” will not be looked on favorably.

2. Just because you’ve downed a couple blowjob shots in your lifetime does not mean you have any idea how the stuff tastes. I assure you that cum tastes nothing like Bailey’s and whipped cream.

3. If you hand us a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues, telling us that you are the “sensitive sort,” do not get snippy when we proceed to tell all of our friends the same.

4. Saying things like “Don’t stop,” or “Why are you stopping?” does not encourage us. We want this over faster than you, so if we’re stopping, you’d better believe there is a good reason for it.

5. We are aware that you cum. Congratulations. There is no reason to stare at it like it’s the eighth wonder of the world. Guess what, we’ve — gasp — seen it before, and really, it’s not that appealing or sexy — especially when it lands on our stomachs, or, worse on our new 500-count sheets.

6. We do not care how much you have to pee afterwards. We just had your penis in our mouths. You are required to stay with us at least five minutes. Five minutes. If you don’t have a watch, get one.

7. Reciprocity. Let me say that again: reciprocity. For those who did not get into Northwestern on academic ability, let me define it for you in words you’ll understand: “Do unto others as they did unto you.” Or, more simply: “Your turn now.”

8. Lastly, post-blowjob is not a good time to discuss the status of our relationship or of your past relationships. We do not want to hear now of your ex-girlfriend, her vacuum-like mouth or that you are thinking of leaving us for her. Such a break-up strategy is just plain awful and mean. If you insist on hitting below the belt, we have every right to hit — or kick — below the belt as well. And when we do it, it hurts a little more.

In return for following these rules, we promise not to mistake your penis for an ear of corn; we will neither nibble at it nor attempt to bite its head off. We will try to keep our lips clasped firmly over our teeth, and, in regards to your nether regions, we will attempt to mimic our government’s foreign relations policy — more hands-on, less hands-off. We promise to concentrate on your entire southern region, not just the outermost tip. We pledge not to tell anyone the size of your penis — unless, of course, you want us to — and like the good NU students we are, we promise always to finish the job we started.

Medill senior Becky Meiser is not sending this column home. She can be reached at [email protected].