On The Prowl

Guys’ (mis)conceptions about the female sex drive

Words by Rose Finn; Illustrations by Nick Patton

I was two-thirds deep into an IPA, wondering if Ninkasi could help me find my next great lay. “I don’t know why it seems so hard to get laid sometimes,” I admitted to my guy friend sitting across from me.

He shook his head. “You can’t complain to me about this. You’re attractive, you’re nice, and you’re a girl. You should have no problem getting laid.”

I would relish the opportunity to have sex whenever, with whomever, with impunity. How lovely it would be to be free of worry about STDs, pregnancy, getting screwed over or manipulated. If I could somehow have sex any time and anywhere and enjoy it without consequence, I’d be the most relaxed woman, and probably own more skirts.

One-night stands unfortunately don’t cut it- both of my one-nighters left me feeling limp and useless. “One night” implies one forgettable evening, usually not quelling my thirst for climax. Those instances don’t even count as sex, they’re just plain “se:” meek-looking letters without the hearty, mouth- watering “x.”

My friend’s words reverberated through my head: “Girls have it so easy. All you have to do is walk out of your house!”

Did all guys think this? Did guys think that every female was granted an all-you-can-eat pass to the Old Country Fornication Buffet? What the F were guys thinking?

I decided it was time to conduct a little research.

I would survey a pool of men to find out what they imagined a conversation between two women talking about trying to get laid might sound like. Here’s what they said…

I started with guy friends watching things blow up on TV at their house:

Guy 1: They’re probably like, ‘Ooh, what’s his phone number?’
Guy 2: ‘Oh, I was flirting with all those boys at the bar.’
Guy 3: They’d compare flirting strategies; maybe drop the neck line a little bit….
Guy 4: I didn’t know anyone talked about trying to get laid.

Me: What do you think women say to each other about sex, in general?

Guy 4: Nothing good.

These fools weren’t giving me real answers. I needed to go somewhere where dashed sexual hopes saturated the atmosphere as potently as the bathroom odor. I needed to go to a dive bar.

I started with the bartender. His response: “Ugh, women are always like, ‘I want to get fucked, I need the biggest fucking dick.’ But then they get all squeamish when they’re about to get laid.”

But he was gay, and this situation called for men who would rather eat pussy than attempt to understand it. I walked up to a couple guys and asked them what they imagine women talking about getting laid sounds like.

The first guy at the bar seemed resentful: “‘Ooh, we’re a fucking hot commodity, and we need to hold out for the highest bidder.’”

The second guy was egging him on: “‘Oh, he was totally looking at you.’”

Guy 1: ‘Yeah, I know, but he’s a douchebag.’
Guy 2: ‘Yeah, but he’s cute.’
Guy 1: ‘Yeah, I might make out with him if I had a couple more beers, but I don’t know…’
Guy 2: ‘You’re such a slut.’
Guy 1: ‘Yeah, I know.’

Another guy turned around on his bar stool to chime in: “One would be like, ‘Oh my god, I’m so horny right now.’ And the other would be like, ‘Well shit, girl. Men are all easy. Just find the one with the most money.’”

Guys one and two came back:

Guy 1: ‘I’m horny. Do you think if I got a beer, it would make me bloat?’
Guy 2: ‘It’ll go straight to your thighs.’

The next day, I called a guy friend. His response:

“What do women talk about when they’re trying to get laid? I don’t know. I guess, one would be like, ‘I’m gonna get some D tonight.’ And the other would be like, ‘You go, girl!’ Then they’d high-five. Then they would braid each other’s hair.”

He wasn’t done yet. “‘Okay, we gotta go to a bar.’ Then they’d get all made up, put on some nice shoes, get some drinks. ‘I’m gonna go find some old dude.’ ‘Yeah, old dudes are easier.’

“Then they’d probably go to a club; they’d swagger over to the pool table, stick their butt out, swaggering as they walk. Did you get the swagger?”

After polling about 20 men, some sober, some drunk, and all between the ages of 21 and 33, I can’t say I learned much. Maybe the keys for getting through dry spells are patience, and more IPA.