3. Forrest Gump

A few years ago, the guy I was kissing whispered to me that he had mistakenly reached his "final destination." Instead of reassuring him that it was okay, I made a disapproving noise and slid out from underneath him. I turned a normal physical reaction into something he'd done to spite me. I turned into a frigid schoolmarm and was — deservingly! — never called again.

I really wish I had seen what happens when Forrest Gump first touches a breast. With that experience under my belt I might've been more sympathetic and less scolding after my man's accidental emission. I was insecure, so I felt like he'd done it on purpose; if I'd been properly acculturated to the idea of premature ejaculation the way everyone else was at a young age, I might've recognized it as an accident, and maybe even a flattering one.