Last night, I watched an episode of Gray’s Anatomy in which a female character had sex with a co-worker in an airplane bathroom and later, performed emergency surgery on a passenger while the plane bounced along in a turbulent sky.
Seriously?!? I flew last week. I banged my elbow – hard! – just trying to use the hand sanitizer in the bathroom. And I spilled wine on myself – twice – during a completely smooth flight.
I am clearly failing as a sexy career woman.
On television, it seems the more successful a woman is, the sexier she gets. Her skirts get shorter, her shoes get higher, and her love-making becomes Olympic-calibre. Stay-at-home moms in sitcoms may be the brunt of jokes about never-wanting and/or never-having sex, but female doctors, and lawyers, and law enforcement officers, are making out like spring-time bunnies.
And they are so low-maintenance! While fragile, damaged female characters require romance and foreplay and tender post-coital snuggling in quilt-covered beds, sexy career women need nothing more than a minute or two against the wall of a stopped elevator. Or in the backseat of a limo on route to an awards show. Or in the afore-mentioned airplane bathroom.
Despite the acrobatic nature of their sexual escapades, these women never sweat, their hair stays in place, and the only wardrobe effect is a slightly untucked blouse, which they calmly re-position as they exit the elevator/limo/bathroom. I get a run in my pantyhose every time I pull them down to pee and my hair bun falls out if I turn my head too quickly.
As a real-life woman running a real-life business, I feel qualified to declare that the whole sexy-career-woman thing is a “fake news” situation.
From a practical perspective, my business wardrobe commonly includes a pair of Spanx under a pair of control top pantyhose, so disrobing quickly is out of the question. And even if I did manage to wriggle out, in a small space with a tight timeline, the odds would be against my managing to wriggle back in again.
It isn’t that I don’t like sex – I just don’t have much time to think about it. My mind is a stormy sea of interrupted thoughts – What materials do I need for an upcoming conference call? Will I have time to get my youngest to the Orthodontist before the call starts? Is the Orthodontist’s waiting room quiet enough for me to phone in while I am waiting? How much power is left on my iphone? Where is the iphone charger? Where the F#%@# is the iphone charger?!? (I spend a lot of time and energy being infuriated about missing iphone chargers – just saying).
By the end of the day, there are so many unfinished tasks swirling around in my head that only Ryan Gosling with a rose between his teeth could squeeze in a sex fantasy. Career women are definitely NOT low maintenance in the sex department. My poor husband has to bring his “A” game just to capture my attention and if he loses my interest – even for a moment – I start making grocery lists and fretting about my corporate year end.
Sex is lovely, but my life is over-scheduled and stressful. When I find myself with a little time to relax, naked cavorting falls behind wine-drinking, binge-watching Netflix, compulsive eating, reading in the bathtub, hiking with the dog, shoe shopping, dining out with friends, and dancing alone to Cyndi Lauper songs.
To the writers of Gray’s Anatomy, I say…. “Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire.” A working mother, alone on a plane without her kids, would never choose bathroom sex over the chance to pound back several plastic glasses filled with wine and fall asleep watching a movie. NEVER!
And to the men who complain because the hard-working women they live with are not jumping their bones every night, I offer a few suggestions… Come home with wine – and dinner. Do the dishes while she soaks in the tub. And bring your “A” game to the bedroom – unless you are Ryan Gosling. He can just show up!