What Stops Us From Having Sex?
There are a lot of myths about single women. One of them is that we are constantly having sex. We are not that lucky… but we could be if we only wanted it. Or if we were always prepared. What I learned in NYC is that you never know the day or the hour, so you always have to be ready. I don’t exaggerate. You never know who and when you meet and how it ends up. There is one crucial question, though – are you ready? No, not on a mental level, but are you ready “down there”? Because we are single, we are not always ready. And to be honest, our situation “down there” at a given moment often determines our sexual life.
There are situations that you want to say ‘yes’ to a sexy guy who begs you to come back home with him, but what stops you is not so much your morality, because it has been gone for a while now, but the fact you don’t remember when was the last time you had your Brazilian waxing. And when he keeps saying: “Please…”, all you can think is: “I can’t do this to you, dude”. There is even the moment of hesitation when you consider running to CVS across the street to grab a razor and have “a quick shower” before at his apartment. But then you’re afraid that things would just go too fast and you’d not be able to avoid your “moment of revelation”.
Another time you go on your first date not paying attention to “what’s going on there”, because “it’s my first date and I would never…”, but somehow you briefly check it to make sure it’s not that bad. And then, a few hours later, you have your walk of shame in the middle of Manhattan morning glory, thinking: “Did this really just happen?” (you can’t blame the alcohol since you only had 2 drinks). Instead of being in your bed at 6:30 am, you’re passing people on their way to work, thinking you want to grab some pancakes because you’re starving right now. If all this is happening, then I guess the situation “down there” was good enough. Sometimes desire wins over our imperfections.
The truth is that if we’re not ready down there, it means we don’t really want it. When we finally decide to do it, we have to go through a humiliating first step (maybe that’s why we don’t do it that often). We go to a salon and try to explain what we came for to our fellow immigrants (most of the salons are run by immigrants). When we think the worst is behind us, we are being judged. The ladies look at “our condition” and say with strong disapproval and even stronger accent: “You should have come earlier. You should do it once a month”. Maybe I should, but I didn’t want to – now I want to, so I came in.
It’s very strange, but men somehow just feel that “we are ready” and they find us immediately. Maybe we send out some kind of Brazilian pheromones?