Mr. Darcy. I don’t like guys who neg. “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me”? Textbook negging. Mr. Darcy spends three-quarters of the book being rude, hypercritical, self-centered, and snobby. Obviously, people are not always what they seem, but as a general rule, if it walks like a duck, and it talks like a duck, it’s probably an asshole. And Mr. Darcy is.
Harry Potter. Never have sex with someone who calls himself The Chosen One. It’s not going to end well. Well, not for you, anyway.
Romeo. He’s 13.
Humbert Humbert. I’m not 13.
Edward Cullen. Quite apart from the fact that he’s a century-old stalker, Mr. I-watch-you-while-you-sleep-and-disable-the-brakes-in-your-car is terrible in bed. I don’t mean that he doesn’t know where the clitoris is or that his favorite position is the jackhammer. I mean that he is violent in bed and if you sleep with him, you black out and wake up bruised and scratched and pregnant with a fetus that gestates at super high speed and nearly kills you when you give birth.
Joshua Lyman. Why sleep with this guy when you could just sleep with the real Aaron Sorkin? Why go for fictional arrogance when you could have the real thing?
Coach Taylor. No one wants to follow Tami Taylor.
And while we’re on the subject of Friday Night Lights: Tim Riggins. I know, I know, he’s so hot, and so troubled, and so hot, and so noble, and so hot. But in my book, troubled and usually drunk cancel out hot. Yes, even Tim Riggins hot. Just.
And while we’re on the subject of people with drinking problems: Don Draper. Also because, to quote Elisabeth Moss, “the best way to remain on Mad Men is to not sleep with Don.”
Back to Tim Riggins for a second: John Carter, or as I call him “Tim Riggins on Mars.” Then again, even if the sex is terrible, it will still be better than John Carter.
Jim Halpert. He’d keep glancing away to shoot skeptical glances at the camera.
“Bill O’Reilly,” the brilliantly crafted parody character played by Fox News host Bill O’Reilly. He’d insist on summing up our sex in oversimplified bullet points written in biased language, and then I’d be like, “I’d like to have an orgasm, too, Bill,” and he would yell over me.
Every character Woody Allen has ever played. Why sleep with a fictional character when you could sleep with one of the thousands of real life young men who have grown up watching Allen movies and as a result think that there’s nothing cooler than self-loathing masquerading as self-awareness?
Sam Baldwin, the character played by Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle. Shut up, rom com enthusiasts. Meg Ryan’s character falls in love with this guy after hearing him on the radio once, then she stalks him from the other side of the country, and I’m the weird one?
Rhett Butler. He’s a rapist. If that’s not enough (it really, really should be), you do not want to get on Scarlett O’Hara’s bad side.
Sherlock Holmes. On second thoughts, maybe I do want to sleep with a guy who could locate a woman’s g-spot by watching her shake someone’s hand.
Batman. I’m not into leather. Or saviour complexes. Or subterranean lairs. Or being taken hostage by my sex partner’s enemies.
The husband in Dolly Parton’s “Jolene.” He talks about Jolene in his sleep. If I slept with this guy, he would mumble about it mid-nap, and then Dolly Parton would kill me. Or worse, write a really good song about what a home wrecker I am.
Earl, from the Dixie Chicks song “Goodbye Earl.” He’s a wifebeater. Also, he’s dead.
Ron Swanson. Just kidding — I would totally have sex with Ron Swanson. And given his penchant for mouthy, curvaceous brunettes, he wouldn’t take much convincing.