This past weekend, I was reminded that no matter how you perceive a certain girl, no matter how “tame” you think you can make her — she will always have the same desires, urges, and underlying sexual yearnings of every other girl you’ve encountered.

I attended a friend’s birthday party where it was almost exclusively girlfriends, mothers, and wives making up the demographic of women in attendance. However, it was a very close friend, and having come off a three-month binge in the EE, I welcomed an off-night from gaming. Following dinner, the group of 30 or so went to a nearby karaoke bar.

Alcohol was flowing, but not every girl was drinking. However, every girl did sing. Many songs were sung, including new favorites (“Get Lucky”), love songs of a pop nature (“Love You Like A Love Song”), old karaoke classics (“Don’t Stop Believing”) , amongst others. The girls that participated in these various songs, maybe at most 3 for each song, gave a decent effort to sing for the crowd.

And then this song came on:

With lyrics such as:

OK now he was close, tried to domesticate you
But you’re an animal, baby, it’s in your nature
Just let me liberate you

Or:

I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
But you’re a good girl
The way you grab me
Must wanna get nasty
Go ahead, get at me

And the clever line of questioning:

Hey, hey, hey
You wanna hug me
Hey, hey, hey
What rhymes with hug me?
Hey, hey, hey

Two things happened. First, every girl in the room got up and slithered her way to the nearest microphone. Second, these wives, mothers and girlfriends sang the song with the unbridled passion of a sex-starved virgin, harboring submission fantasies after reading 50 Shades while taking an aromatic bubble bath in a castle nestled atop an Italian villa. To say the energy in the room changed would be an understatement. The glisten in the eyes of the mother of three when the song echoed “must wanna get nasty.” The fixated stare at the lyrics by the conservative non-drinking religious girl while belting at the top of her lungs “you’re a gooooooood girl…” The undoubtedly now-all-moist girls exclaiming in unison “hey hey hey!” following the lyric of “I know you want it.”

While it was shocking to see girls I knew act this way, I was not surprised. Girls are sexual creatures and given the opportunity, they will want to express it. They want to be dominated. Yet too often, guys believe that “she is different.” That this little snowflake is does not harbor such devious desires. She does not want her hair pulled. She does not want rough sex. She does not want to get dirty.

Bullshit.

I did not see all the girls get up and risk vocal cord damage for Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” that played a few songs prior, a song about romance and love. I did not see more than two girls arise for a sing-along to Tommy Tutone’s ballad about a girl named Jenny and his cringeworthy desire for her and her catchy seven digit telephone number.

Nope. It was a song about “degrading women” that was “rapey” that put the dampness back in those kitchen sponges.

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