Ask E. Jean

Photo: Gregg Delman

“You’re right, he is a great big male reproductive organ!” —Nicole Kidman watching Will Ferrell’s character on Inside the Actors Studio (Bewitched, 2005)

Dear E. Jean: I’m a 21-year-old virgin fishing for a sugar daddy who’ll launch me into a life of caviar and beautiful clothes. I recently heard about the American grad student auctioning off her virginity; right now, she’s considering bids of up to $3.7 million. I want to attempt the same. It would take care of my college loans, and I could live on the interest and be free to develop my career and talents.

The breaking of the hymen is reportedly painful and disappointing anyway. Why should I waste my purity on a “meaningful” college boyfriend or even a saggy sugar daddy when I can receive a pot of gold all in one go? How would I go about notifying these wealthy barons without attracting attention? —The Hungry Virgin

Hungry, my smarty-pants: Auntie Eeee thinks affectionately of your hymen and wishes the best for it; but it’s unfashionable these days to snatch another young lady’s bidders. (Hymen-auctioning is as old as…well, men invented virginity and they’ve been paying for it ever since.)

So please e-mail Dennis Hof, the proprietor of the World Famous Moonlite BunnyRanch, the legal brothel in Carson City, Nevada, at dennis@bunnyranch .com. He told me on the phone he’d be delighted to put your maidenhead on the block and that “bids could start around $50,000.” Mr. Hof’s the hawker of the nubile grad student you mentioned, Miss Natalie “Deflower-Me-for-Three-Million” Dylan. “She got a book deal, a movie deal, and now we’re working on a new TV show,” Mr. Hof said excitedly. He was in the midst of shooting a “Dr. Drew episode of Celebrity Rehab Presents: Sober House featuring my good friend Heidi Fleiss.” (You know, of course, that Mr. Hof is the Akira Kurosawa of passion. His current show runs on HBO and is called Cathouse.)

“Oh! What’s your new idea for a show called?” I asked him.

“America’s Next Top Virgin,” Mr. Hof said. “So definitely have [Miss Hungry Virgin] e-mail me, and anyone else who’s interested!”

“One last thing,” I said. “Before I hang up: How much money did Miss Dylan and her vagina actually pull in?”

“Unfortunately,” Mr. Hof said, “the highest bidder, at $3.7 million, was an Australian businessman, and he reconciled with his wife. Miss Dylan offered to return the $250,000 deposit. In fact, I called him and said, ‘We’re returning it,’ but he said, ‘No, give it to the girl.’ So she got a quarter of a million dollars, and bids are starting again!”

I can’t tell you how heartened I am to hear men are still such imbeciles. My friend Tracy Quan, always astute about marketing anything between her eyebrows and kneecaps, and the author of the deliciously witty Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl, was appalled—shocked!—to hear your idea. “She’s trying to sell something,” Quan said, “that should never be sold. I treasure my memories of my first lover. To be a good businesswoman, you need good romantic experience.”

There are better ways to make a fortune in this world—invent an engine that runs on water, create a cellulite cream that works—without turning yourself into an asshole. So it’s up to you, Miss Hungry. It’s your hymen: Keep it, lend it, groom it, or donate it to a poor woman. But in Auntie Eeee’s opinion, only a flimflamming trollop would sell it.

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