Despite what the media hipsters say, casual sex is alive andwell
among the twentysomething set.
Sex in the '90s is like war. Our leaders keep telling us that it is
extinct, yet it is constantly breaking out around us. The illusion of
peace is called the New World Order; the illusion of safe sex is called
the Post-AIDS Era. In both cases, our teachers are completely out of
touch with the real world.
In the world of sex, the editors and feature writers have
created--out of wishful thinking perhaps, as well as out of readership
surveys and the ignorance that comes from splendid isolation--a
completely mythical modern world of sexless twentysomethings.
Why are they so out of touch? The first reason is generational:
Serious subjects in the media are assigned to experienced writers, older
than the kids in question. The editors of prestigious magazines are often
aging youth experts," doubtless very thrusting loins of the '70s hip,
liberal, swinging, sexual revolutionary scene." But that was two decades
ago. They publish reminiscences of promiscuity and ponderous judgments
about the sexual habits of the "younger generation."
I have nothing against anyone of any age. What I do object to is
that, in one of the most important debates of our time--the AIDS epidemic
and sex--a generation of dinosaurian hipsters sporting Armani suits,
cowboy boots, and graying pony tails keeps telling me what my generation
is doing wrong.
I am a 26 year-old heterosexual male. I do not presume to write
about the sexual habits of teenagers or 35-year-olds. I have read many
stories telling me about the sexual habits of my generation that were not
representative, so I conducted a sounding--not a poll--of guys and girls
in their twenties. This is what I discovered.
Is sex still happening? Yes, no doubt, couples are still having
sex. Second, are more people getting involved in serious relationships
because they cannot have casual sex anymore? Perhaps, but of all the
people I talked to for this article, I could not find a single example of
anyone forming a relationship for that reason. Third--and this is the big
question mark--are people still being promiscuous? Are they picking up
people and going home with them?
A recent column in the New York Times reads: "Chastity gains ground
as a social virtue whereby one prefers one's friends to be virgins." The
article uses "a random, totally unscientific poll of [the author's] own
generation--educated, supposedly liberal people who had some direct
experience with the sexual revolution"--to declare that casual sex is not
acceptable anymore. On the other hand, an article in New York magazine
recently announced 'Sex in the '90s--there's more going on, straight and
gay, than you think.'
Frankly, you do not have to venture through the hellish nocturnal
odyssey of the club scene to find casual sex. While I agree that casual
sex is less acceptable than it was in the Seventies or Eighties, to
declare that chastity or virginity are actually fashionable is
nonsense.
Truth is the first casualty not only in war, but also in sexual
behavior. Here is a true story that neatly sums up the new regime, where
lust, lies, and fear are strange companions:
A circle of friends is gathered in a Boston pub. They are young,
fresh out of school, but they are not brash; brashness died last year.
None of them knows anyone who has died of AIDS, but they are afraid of
it. They all know someone who has been fired and they are afraid of that,
too: AIDS and the recession dominate the conversation.
Pamela is an ambitious, raven-haired 24-year-old advertising
executive from Philadelphia, a feminist who prides herself on being
attractive. She dresses in business-as-usual corporate battle suits. Her
demeanor says "I don't," and her friends believe her. But that is The Era
speaking.
John, a Brooklyn dentist's son, is the same age, educated at
Columbia, working miserably hard in a management consultancy firm. He is
one of those men who other men ignore because he is frail, blond, and a
loner; but women always notice him.
John and Pam have never met before. When the Seventies hyper-disco
plays loud, they dance. She runs her hand through his hair; he tries to
kiss her, but she pushes him away. Later, she agrees to a drink at his
apartment. They kiss again, and this time it leads to the bedroom. Acting
on the spur of the moment, neither has time for condoms or mutual
inquiries.
But they have known each other for only a few hours, and in "this
day and age" (the favorite euphemism for the AIDS era), people do not act
this way. Everyone who knows Pam would agree, especially the girls who
were at Penn with her: In four years, you get to know someone. She, of
all people, never does that sort of thing. Never. But they are all
wrong.
More than likely they would not necessarily want the truth. They
would want to be reassured that the new natural order has been respected.
Pam would probably lie and tell them that nothing happened, and her
friends would be relieved.
Tags:
AIDS,
aids epidemic,
andwell,
casual sex,
condoms,
cowboy boots,
feature writers,
heterosexual male,
loins,
no doubt,
pony tails,
prestigious magazines,
promiscuity,
readership surveys,
rela,
reminiscences,
sexual habits,
splendid isolation,
twenty-something,
twentysomethings,
wishful thinking,
world of sex,
younger generation
