How do you feel about the word “boink”? How about in your local news column?
Last week I saw the word employed rather casually in a column in our daily paper,and it struck me that everyone else must be growing increasingly comfortable with it. The editor certainly wasn’t bothered, and the advice columnist, feeling it was the best pick off the euphemism menu, used it in a sentence as though people of all ages would know what she meant and perhaps routinely enlist the word themselves.
Where did it come from? Clearly, from a disgruntled sort opposed to the words”make love.” But why “boink?” Is it the sound one encounters in the act of sexual intercourse? No, it’s the sound of something hitting something else. This term could not have been born from a night of veteran lovemaking. This sounds like a newbie, leaving the world of virginity and noticing it all breeze past a little too quickly.
There’s a sadness in the word, a sense that our hopeless romantic didn’t enjoy the full glory of some otherwise gleeful intimacy. It was a fleeting and perhaps unsatisfying bit of passion that must have come and gone like a hailstone off a garage roof.
Seeing it in Carolyn Hax’s column last week in the Star Tribune, where she wrote, “If you trust your husband not to boink the neighbor only if she doesn’t ask to use your phone, then you can’t call that trust,” gave me the sense we might be opting to crown this term the most user-friendly of the bunch.
So, here’s what he’s tasking us with: “Come up with a word that’s sensual, a word up to the weighty task of describing one of the most extraordinarily sublime moments in a couple’s existence.”
(I guess “bang” is out of the question. And as much as I like “fuck” and “screw,” I’ll admit they are a bit violent in nature ‚Äî not that there’s anything wrong with that. Devour? Ravage? Consume? Shit, I give up. Help!)