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Leave the porn to the experts

November 29, 2011|By Jason Steele, For RedEye

Raise your hand if you've been in this situation.

You're lounging at home in your robe, and the doorbell rings. It's the pizza you ordered. You open the door and your robe slips open to reveal your birthday suit underneath. The pizza delivery guy, who looks like Ryan Reynolds, smiles at you. You toss the pizza aside and he ravages you right there on the dining room table.

If your hand is now raised, you are either a liar or a 1970s porn star. However, I bet most of you have imagined that situation—or at the very least hoped the delivery person would be hot.

Substitute a new TV for the pizza, and I had that exact fantasy recently. I mentioned to friends, half-jokingly, that I was hoping the delivery guys would be good-looking and sweaty and have to take off their shirts before they could finish the installation.

I imagined a scenario similar to the pizza story—only I wouldn't want anyone tossing aside my new TV like it's a cheesy pie—and with the delivery guys being Joe Manganiello and Henry Cavill look-alikes. Then instead of a dining room ravaging, just some shirtless—maybe pantsless—TV setup in slow-mo. "Hand me that HDMI cord. Yeah, that's the one. Plug it into my port."

I assumed I was the only creepy creeper out there who thought of this until my Facebook friends started giving me advice like this: "Wear boxer shorts only and crank up the heat in the apartment" and "Make sure you tip them. And if they are hot, be sure to tip them twice!"

All this ridiculousness actually got me anticipating some sexy, buff delivery guys! I wondered if I should I wear something loose-fitting and provocative or drape myself in Saran Wrap (alas, all I had was tin foil). I even considered leaving out some gay porn DVDs to see how they would react.

As my delivery window (that's not a euphemism) neared, I was filled with anticipation. I had all but convinced myself these guys would be super hot and at the least I could sit back and ogle for a few minutes.

Finally, the doorbell buzzed. I ran to the window and flew like The Flash. I couldn't see the guys very well because some trees (that I since have had removed—take that Mother Nature!) obstructed my view. I let them in the building. They climbed the stairs. They rounded the corner. And. And. And!

Are you familiar with the piglike creatures that guard Jabba the Hutt's palace? Yeah, it was like that. Not only were they trollish in appearance, but they also gave off a distinct body odor that I assume is what the inside of Miss Piggy must smell like after a long hot day of puppeteering. The smell lingered in the apartment for several minutes after they left.

What a letdown.

On the plus side, after I aired out the apartment, I was able to watch some hot pizza delivery guy porn on my new 50-inch TV.


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