The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator or MBTI is a instrument based on Carl Jung’s psychological theory that we are inherently different with regard to personality and motivation. According to Jung, there are 16 different personality types and by understanding our primary drivers, we are able to interact with and understand one another more effectively. 

If you introduce yourself and include your MBTI type, there is a very real possibility my pants will come off. Think of it as the smart person’s version of “What’s your sign?”

The MBTI is important for many reasons, but for the purpose of this story, it illustrates effort. Effort which was unsolicited and appreciated originally, but is now just contributing to my confusion. 

A couple weeks ago, Sleeves casually asked if I knew my Myers-Briggs personality type. He knows I know. I have a Tumblr dedicated to all things MBTI. If you’ve put your penis anywhere near my mouth, there’s zero chance that we haven’t talked about it, but I indulged him. 

Me: “Yes, I am an INTJ.”

Him: “I’m an ENTJ.”

INTJ’s make up roughly 1.5% of our population, and of that, only .05% are female. Female INTJs are often referred to as ‘Unicorns’. I am an INTJ. Introverted. iNtuitive. Thinking. Judging. 

The ENTJ is similarly rare, making up roughly 4% of the population of which 5.5% are men. Sleeves is an ENTJ. Extroverted. iNtuitive. Thinking. Judging. 

We are virtually the same person only he displays more extroverted thinking as opposed to my introverted process. 

Me: “I told you we were the same person. You’re just nicer to strangers.”

Him: “Do you know if we’re supposed to be compatible?”

At this point, it’s important to note there’s a better chance of me getting up and flying around the room than him not knowing the answer to this question. If he took the time to read and research and answer 96 questions while hungover, he looked that shit up. He wanted to know if I knew that according to Jung, we are the most compatible type combination; even considered soul mates by some. 

I did not know. It wasn’t until a few days later when I consulted the worldwide web that I discovered this tidbit of frivolity. 

Fast forward roughly fourteen days to Sleeves, his ego, and myself sitting on his deck, gearing up for the second and final installment of I Don’t Want A Relationship. 

Keep in mind, I initiated this discussion in order to force him to tell me what the fuck is going through his brain and gently remind him of the fact that I am not in charge of his behavior. Therefore, if he wants to continue to penetrate my vagina he’s going to need to be nicer to me the next day and stop blaming me for his lack of self discipline. 

I did not get that far.

Not only had he already concluded that my vagina was the culprit, but along with a myriad of other ‘reasons’ it would be best to  eliminate the fucking portion of our ‘friendship’. 

As far as effort is concerned, it was a good one. He included just enough self depreciation and personal anecdotes to be believable, and if I were missing the iNtuition inherent to my personality, I probably would have done just that. 

“What’s her name?”

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