When Eve Ensler debuted her Vagina Monologues off-Broadway in 1996, America had seen nothing like it. Now after years of controversy and notoriety, the monologues have taken on a life of their own, engaging communities far and wide and enlivening causes ranging from trans-gender rights to combating violence against women in the free world and ending genital mutilation in the third world. But while actresses and musicians, poets, and Pulitzer Prize-nominated playwrights have had the chance to tell the world what their vaginas would say if they could talk, I feel the average girl has all but been left out of the equation.
My vagina has never had a hit record.
Or done stand-up at Carnegie Hall.
She's never been reviewed by Michiko Kakutani.
And she's never worn Badgley Mischka couture.
But she has a few things she'd like to get off her chest.
And it's high-time she be allowed to speak.
So without further adieu, I give you the top five things she would say if my average vag could talk.
10 and 2! 10 and 2!: In my own experience, few men know how to put what where the first time around. A lead foot can be just as damning a detour on the road to romance as a sudden slam on the brakes. Think learner's permit and gently coax Novice Ned to flip his signal and merge his way to the middle lane. Once he gets a feel for the road, the highway to heaven ain't far behind.
If only I could put a name to a face: It's the question we all dread from newly anointed significant others. What's your number? Most of us fall somewhere in between the Holy Mother and the Material Girl, but both carry their own burdens. Prurient or prudish? It's a double-edged sword, and trying to navigate the antiquated waters of a sexually stigmatized society can leave us lackluster about whistling Dixie with anyone's wood. So next time you're hot and heavy with the dude du jour and he asks how many men you've slept with, simply say, "I'm not altogether certain, but I'm sure Madonna would approve."
Caution - Objects may be closer than they appear: What does a vagina look like when you're staring it straight in the eye? Is there light at the end of the tunnel? Do voices beckon you from the beyond like the TV in Poltergeist? If you look hard enough, can you see the rings of Saturn? What is it boys are so desperate to get at in there? Is there a pot of gold at the end of my rainbow? You bet your lucky charms there is.
What do you want from me, smoke rings?: What girl worth her salt in the sack doesn't know and practice her Kegel exercises from time to time? Hell I'm doing them right at this very moment while writing this blog post, drinking a cocktail, and listening to George Michael on my iPod (I'm a multitasker). But aside from clench, release, clench, repeat, what is it exactly I should be training my vagina to do? Juggle? Men have a definite advantage when it comes to performing tricks in the sack. Other than suggesting interesting positions and offering up other orifices, a girl is rather limited in her ability to diversify. And unless there's a vocational school for vaginas I don't know about, the menu will have to stay at prix fixe.
But we had Mexican last night!: Variety is the spice of life and unless you're married or in a committed relationship, sampling a little of everything that's out there is where it's at. Why limit yourself to one coast when it's possible to go globe hopping via your vagina? Put a muffler on and check out the North Pole. Who knows what Kris Kringle has to offer when Mrs. Claus is away on a spa weekend? Never seen the Great Wall of China? Well now's your chance to experience the Orient without the annoying jet lag. Always dreamed of a gondola ride through the canals of Venice? Need I say more?