The Loch Sex Monster
By Krysta Fitzpatrick
Muse

Before I had ever actually had sex – or even a serious relationship for that matter – movies like Dirty Dancing, Last Tango in Paris, and Cruel Intentions had imprinted in my head this distorted image of what sex, desire, and love were.

Love was passionate, fiery, intense, and brooding. Sex was powerful, wild, epic, and spur of moment hot hot hot! Or at least that’s what movies made me think they were – then I actually had sex.

Thanks in particular to Dirty Dancing, I thought losing your virginity meant a hot summer night, dancing seductively under a dimmed light to Otis Redding. Then the person you desire passionately lays you down and blows your mind for hours on end –without any worry of pain or pregnancy. Note how in films you very rarely stop to see anyone put on a condom.

Instead, it’s more like five minutes of foreplay in your friend’s parents’ (who happen to be out of town) bed, that leads to two minutes of excruciating pain – socks still on, friends downstairs getting drunk while watching Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas, and the only music being the faint sound of someone in the living room attempting to drunkenly play a Dave Matthews Band song on guitar. Not exactly what I was expecting.

After actually having sex and being in serious relationships I finally realized that, since I was a little kid, movies had been building romance up to be something that it wasn’t at all.