Your mind is like a TSA full-body scanner—you undress people with your eyes the moment you see them. You wonder what they’d be like in bed, whether it’d be plain and boring or wild and kinky, how often they have sex, how strong their sex drive is, whether or not they smell nice, how old they were when they lost their virginity, how good they are at oral, if they’ve given and received anal (and whether or not they used lube), how many sex toys they own, how frequently they masturbate, whether they’d be willing to do it with you, and, of course, whether you’d be willing to do it with them. And this is all before you’ve had a chance to say “hi” and shake hands. After you’ve had a chance to meet and talk with them is when your thoughts really get dirty.
The minute you start to get bored—which is every minute of every hour of every day—your mind starts to wander. As luck would have it, it always wanders straight toward sex. It’s like there’s a software filter inside your head that translates everything into porn. You could be sitting there in your kitchen on a sunny day eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and suddenly you’re thinking about a three-way with the cable guy and his hot teenage son. You could be filling out tax forms while wondering what it’d be like to live on an island with an entire football team. That’s right—just you and an entire football team. On an island. Naked. In the sun. And then when the IRS audits you, all you have to do is tell them about your fantasy, and they’ll forgive your mathematical errors. And even while you’re there at the IRS being audited, you wonder what it’d be like to clear the agent’s desk of all paperwork and just do it right there.
You find hidden meaning in things that have absolutely no hidden meaning. I’m not sure whether anyone ever told you this, but sometimes a cucumber is just a cucumber. Sometimes riding a horse is just riding a horse. Sometimes eating a popsicle is just eating a popsicle. Sometimes getting vanilla ice cream all over your face is just getting vanilla ice cream all over your face. And sometimes when a muscular motorcycle cop wearing leather boots and mirrored sunglasses pulls you over, it’s only because you were speeding. Sometimes…
Most of your waking hours are filled with things such as work and exercise and paying bills and heating up Pop-Tarts in your toaster, but your dirty mind switches on the minute you close your eyes and fall asleep. You regularly have vivid, epic sexual dreams complete with orchestral soundtracks and high production values involving multiple partners and scenarios across the globe throughout history. It’s said that Helen of Troy’s face launched a thousand ships, but your sexual dreams caused both World Wars. Sometimes you’re shocked at how dirty dreams are. Other times you’ll take a sleeping pill just so you can skip past the Coming Attractions and get right to the Main Feature.
You’re not always thinking about sex, which is good because you have a lot of responsibilities and it’s not exactly convenient to pleasure yourself at the grocery store, especially when there’s already a spill in one of the aisles. But there are certain sensual triggers—such as the smell of vanilla or cinnamon, a warm spring breeze, or the loud hum of cicadas in the forest late on a summer night—that turn you into a complete sex-crazed animal. You could be stuck in geometry class learning about sines and cosines, but if you suddenly catch a whiff of cinnamon, you might need a whole roll of paper towels to mop up the mess.
Well, it all depends on how you define “dirty,” doesn’t it? Let’s say it’s summertime at a secluded waterfall deep in a rainforest somewhere near the Equator. It’s just you and the guy you’ve been lusting after for years. Neither of you has a stitch of clothing on, and you’ve been luxuriating in the warm water all afternoon. He pulls his glorious body out of the water and basks in the sunlight on a rock. After he’s entirely dry, he reaches down and beckons you to join him on the rock…and so you do. You’re both entirely clean from swimming all afternoon, so there’s absolutely nothing dirty about what you’re going to do next.
It’s not like you’re obsessed with sex or anything, because not only are you a career-oriented woman, you also have several hobbies and charitable activities that take up much of your free time. You enjoy good conversation and are a sucker for a good sitcom. You are open to all kinds of opinions, even if others find them unsavory or downright unacceptable. Everyone who knows you speaks well of you, and you’ve never been in trouble with your family or the law. Despite all that, did you see the BULGE in the bicycle delivery guy’s pants this morning?
It’s not that you don’t have sexual fantasies, and it’s not that you don’t have them very frequently, either. Your mind drifts toward sex just as often as anyone else’s. It’s that your fantasies are a little…how can I say this…boring? You realize that missionary position is only one of many possible angles, right? And sometimes it’s not how good-looking someone is that makes them good at sex, but it’s that little bit of mischief in their eyes that tells you they’d be down for anything. Sometimes good-looking people are like mannequins in bed, while people with a huge flaw like a missing tooth or a well-placed facial scar that can be absolute monsters in bed. So I’m ranking you low on this list not because your mind isn’t dirty, but because it’s not very creative in its dirtiness. Up the kink factor, and I’ll move you up on this list.
You have a healthy sex drive—so healthy it could kill you if you don’t watch out. But I can’t say you have a dirty mind, because the moment you meet a hot guy—and I mean, so hot the skin will peel off your fingers if you just rub his face—the first thing you think isn’t how much you’d like to mount him, but whether he’d be a good boyfriend. Whether he’d be honest with you. Whether you could count on him to bring you hot chicken soup when you’re sick in bed. Whether he’d remember your birthday and the anniversary of the day you met. Those are the important things. Sex is just the dessert.
Like your namesake the virgin, you mostly think clean and wholesome thoughts that you wouldn’t be afraid of speaking out loud, even in church or in front of a live TV audience. Most of your thoughts are as harmless as mayonnaise on white bread with a side of peppermint soda. But there’s that one very special dirty fetish of yours…right? That absolutely filthy, shocking, lurid, bawdy, depraved, debaucherous fantasy you’ve had since you were young…right? You know exactly what I’m talking about, right, you dirty, dirty girl?
You keep your mind out of the gutter…until there are a couple of drinks in you. Most of your conscious life involves thinking about things such as love and family and justice and fairness and world peace. You think people are too divided today and that we need to find some common ground before we destroy one another. There is too much hatred and misunderstanding and misdirection and distraction. Did you realize that if the top 1% gave away only 5% of what they own, we could feed and house everyone in the world? And then you slam down a couple vodka & tonics, and suddenly you’re standing naked on top of a piano. In a motel lounge.
Who needs to have a dirty mind when you’re always having sex? That’s like thinking about food while you’re eating. Or like thinking about cars while you’re driving. Or like thinking about books while you’re reading. Your mind is for figuring out math problems and deciding on political issues; your body does all the rest. You don’t need a dirty mind, you insatiable little minx, because you live a dirty life.