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Allie Munier

Allie Munier started writing Broke207 in 2009 as a way to help herself rein in her finances and chip away at unruly student loan debt. 3+ years of couponing, thrifting, and swapping her way around the state later, she has slightly less student loan debt, and a completely unexpected enthusiasm for writing. She's still ridiculously cheap, but these days you'll find her writing about everything from Batman to glitter tampons. She resides in Portland with her canine life partner Kazuki, and her ever growing collection of vintage melamine sugar bowls and 50s era nurse fiction.

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Broke 207 with Allie Munier
Posted: June 19, 2013

The (mostly) Agony and the Ecstasy of Bang With Friends

Not even the Mayor wants to get with this.
photo by Logan Donahoo

The premise is simple. Allow “Bang with Friends” to access your Facebook friends, and it creates for you a convenient checklist (sorted by gender) where you can choose which of your acquaintances you would most like to get busy with.  If anyone on your list should also log on and check your box, you then receive a very unceremonious text-based email involving the phrase “bump uglies” to alert you to their bangin’ interest.

This email struck me as being a little gross.

Back in February, I found out about all of this via a clandestine agreement with a friend (who, for the record, I would bang), that we would mark each other as bangable, just to see what happened. But then, once the mystery was revealed, the thing that I’m assuming happened to everyone else that was initially intrigued by the concept, happened to me. I chickened out.

“Bang with Friends” is like Pandora’s box. The idea of finding out who wants to have sex with you is enticing, for sure. But, the idea of finding out who doesn’t want to have sex with you is potentially crushing. And, at least back in February, once you chose someone to bang, there were no backsies. So, you’d better hope that you didn’t drunkenly click on the wrong person, inviting a brand new level of awkward into your life.  I wasn’t ready to take that plunge, and as with the majority of flash-in-the-pan type apps, I forgot about it’s existence immediately.

This May, Bang released a smartphone app that appeared to have ironed out some of the kinks (pun intended). It gave you the option of downgrading your bang to a hang (although, that has a humiliating “I WOULD DEFINITELY NEVER HAVE SEX WITH YOU” vibe to it that I don’t care for), and allowed you to unbang people if you changed your mind about your initial assessment.

Unfortunately, the app was yanked from the Apple app store for mysterious (and still unknown) reasons, just weeks after it’s release.  To make things even crappier for Bang and their users, somebody figured out that how to easily see which of your friends are using the service, stripping out the anonymity factor almost entirely. ESCANDALO! So, if you were chicken before, you should probably be double chicken now.

But, not me! Once things start to get real sketchy, that’s when I get fully on board. I figured I had nothing to lose and set to work devising a list of my top 10 friends that I would willingly get down with.

It was weird.

Not that there aren’t a boatload of attractive folks on my friends list, but there is something truly absurd about declaring that attraction by clicking a button that says “Down to Bang.” I convinced myself I was doing it for science, and clicked away.

Why yes, I do own a full set of 4 Mayor McCheese glasses.

And then, I saw him. MAYOR MCCHEESE. I have no real memory of becoming friends with Mayor McCheese. Although, there was a period in my adolescence where I refused to drink out of any glass that didn’t bear his likeness. But, there he was, staring seductively at me with his giant glossy hamburger head… Even as a long-time vegetarian, I couldn’t stay away. CLICK.

I figured it would be a good way to announce my intentions toward Mr. McCheese (and any of the other non-corporate mascot people on my “to bang” list) by screencapping my impure intentions, posting them on Facebook, and tagging them “Your move, McCheese.”  But mostly, people seemed confused and a little grossed out about it. Well, except this guy:

Now comes the agony part. The part where not even a fictional hamburger mayor wants to have sex with me. I knew there was a distinct possibility that the entirety of my experience on”Bang with Friends” would essentially be just me, alone in my bed, uncomfortably imagining banging people I know.

A week after marking off my top 10, I had nothing to show. But, I don’t feel too bad. The reality is that of their claim of over a million users, only 3 of them actually know me. And, of those three, the only one that marked me as “bangable” did so with my full knowledge and participation.

At the root of it, maybe most of us are a little old fashioned. Meaningless sex is great and all (or so I hear), but maybe not so much when it’s initiated by an email bot whose closing line is “This fuck brought to you by Bang With Friends.”  At least out here IRL, a casual encounter starts with a glance, or an “oh you’re so funny” arm touch, or, at the very least, a hand crafted email declaring inappropriate intentions. Hell, I’ve been sent anonymous dick pictures that are more enticing that the “Bang with Friends” auto email. If there is romance to be found in the casual hook up, Bang takes it out back and puts it down like Old Yeller.

In short, “Bang with Friends” doesn’t really work. With it’s gross language, not so anonymous anonymity, and general lack of real world magic, all it really has to offer is a very vague possibility of sex (assuming you know at least one of its registered users). With odds that lousy, it’s probably better if we all just nut up and tell people when we’re interested in bedding them, and leave the automation to online banking.

And, Mayor McCheese, I’m still waiting…

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