SAFE WORDS COME OUT OF BEDROOM

“Radish!” “I beg your pardon?” My friend Bindi’s root-vegetable exclamation came out of nowhere while we were waiting at a bar.

“That’s my safe word,” she clarified, taking her glass of Pinot Grigio. “I was just telling Phoebe about the film version of ‘Fifty Shades of Grey,’ and the main character’s safe word is ‘popsicle.’ Then Phoebe asked mine. Weren’t you paying attention?”

That explained it: Mention the bondagethemed best-selling novel (now a major motion picture), and my usual instinct is to tune out. If I’m going to kill brain cells, I’d rather do it with something painless, like bourbon, not by listening to someone discuss his or her views on alternative sexuality as presented by E.L. James.

“‘Popsicle’ strikes me as too many syllables for a safe word,” Phoebe’s husband, Ted, chimed in. “Shouldn’t a safe word be something you can say quickly?”

All eyes turned to the relationship columnist, so I explained the basic premise.

“A safe word is a verbal cue you establish with your partner before sex so that if you need to stop, there’s an unambiguous signal to halt things. It’s mainly in the BDSM world, but it’s never a bad idea to have one. Phoebe, you and Ted should choose one together.”

“Like what? What’s your safe word?” she asked.

I took a sip of my drink. In spite of my own advice, I didn’t have a safe word. I’m in favor of all kinds of safe sexual expression between consenting adults, but personally, the 50 shades aren’t my color story, and, honestly it just seems like so much work. When participating in that kind of sexuality, it helps to be good with knots, and as both a terrible sailor and inattentive Boy Scout, I have two strikes against me.

There can also be special furniture and paraphernalia involved requiring assembly, and the last thing you’d want to be dependent on is my ability to read a manual. ( Just look at the results of my last trip to Ikea in 2008.) When a friend recently told me what she spent on an average BDSM ensemble, I audibly gulped. “For that money, you could buy an original Gaultier or Westwood bondage outfit from the ’80s,” I suggested to her. “Then you could wear it to cocktail parties.”

“Kennebunkport.” I said the first thing that popped into my head.

“What’s that?” Ted asked.

“Um, it’s the town where Barbara and George H.W. Bush summer in Maine,” I said. “It just seemed weird for my safe word to be ‘Hyannis Port’ since, you know, I have that whole leftover Catholic reverence for the Kennedys. I figure yelling out a word that summons the image of the 41st president would definitely be enough to stop sexual activity in its tracks.” My friends looked at me quizzically, then, thankfully, changed the subject.

Later, I thought more about safe words. There are so many moments outside the bedroom in relationships when I’d like to be able to summon a magic word, hit pause and reassess comfort levels. If my last boyfriend and I had had a safe word toward the end of our relationship, perhaps we could have used those timeouts to cool off during fights — or maybe a safe word earlier on could have prevented a few of our more notable missteps. What if whenever we felt uncomfortable in our dating lives, we could shout out an emotional safe word for our own protection?

“Slower!” We’d yell at the date in overdrive. When you’re invited to go away for the weekend after less than a month of dating, or asked to be a plus-one at a wedding a year away, or integrated into your date’s circle of friends before you’ve even exchanged middle names, this safe word would be a nice option.

History. There’s nothing worse than being in the shadow of your partner’s former flame. “History,” we could gently remind them every time they got caught up in their relationship past, ignoring their dating present.

“Closer,” you could call when you felt someone shutting down, pulling away or not letting you in, allowing the safe word to bridge the distance between you.

Air. When you’re suffocated by too much attention and you need to breathe, just call out, “Air!” If you’re emotionally asphyxiating to the point where you can’t call out a safe word, shake your head while pointing at your

throat.

Mercy. If it stings, hurts or bruises and you’re not sure why, ask for “mercy.” This could become the most commonly used safe word

of all.