The Perfect Analogy

Baseball.

You can compare it to anything, and it makes perfect sense.
It can be life, love, or war simultaneously - or it can just be the perfect, pure game you played as a young'en that your daddy taught you to adore.

Today, we shall examine the classic Running-the-Bases as levels of intimacy. Debate exists over what each base actually represents (with 1st generally being a kiss):

1ST base is kissing.
2ND base is heavy petting (although with my version a double includes getting thrown out by the catcher via backslap for putting a hand near my midsection)
3RD base spreads just as much disease as...
Home Run - no explanation necessary. It's such a big deal it's only intended for married people, and if you ask me, NOTHING is worth that crap!!!!

I've even heard a different NUMBER of bases -

At work one day (when I was employed by The White Devil), Meegs (my favorite teammate from when I was privileged to play with the Raleigh Venom) and I were discussing this subject related to gayness. I said something along the lines of lesbians only having three bases, she said "Nuh uh man, we have like, twelve." It was funny of course, only because I'd been exposed to the complexity of seeing emotional involvement between my teammates (I love you, I hate you, we're friends with benefits, we're best friends, etc., within a month of meeting...)

(Just to interject, I'm watching Rachael Ray (yes, Rachael Ray) because I usually do and was sick and tired of hearing about freaking Paul Pierce, and as luck would have it, she's having a baseball-theme episode! Of course including hot dogs and slaw. It's a sign - wow I'm actually starting to like her a lot more hearing her rave about my favorite sport using the same points I do)

I'm really into chastity, okay? Sue me. Not that I don't feel like not every once in a while, but 11 months out of 12, the rare thought of intercourse is shrouded in those tempting fantasies about getting married, and if you know me at all you know I equate marriage with a form of death (not the ultimate, damning death of raising children). Ergo, I am extremely conservative. I've never been a joiner.

So, my RTB analogy goes like this:

First Base = An intelligent, flirty conversation rife with eye contact.
Second Base = Holding Hands
Third Base = To quote Crash Davis, "long, slow, deep, soft wet kisses that last three days."
Home Run = I dunno. Not sex. That's like MLB on steroids. (notice my clever simile? just proves my point). Probably, since I'm a "grown-up" now, I'd have to say the birth of a real relationship.

Therefore, I am a virgin!