In a flash Fake Winehouse was able to transform the height of our hetero-normative experience back into something she was more comfortable with, her own safe space of gender neutrality, with the magic words: “get this shit off me.” Tossing her the tissue box, big girl can clean herself up, I chastised her for breaking the narrative, something usually reserved for slightly longer than fifteen seconds after sex.
Winehouse may have rolled her eyes, but the fact of the matter remains: sex is the narrative of attraction. For the red-hot 20 minutes I spent with Amy, she behaved like the ideal submissive, adhering to my direction and following my lead. This was what she wanted in the moment, appealing to her basic female nature. After, when her big girl brain came back into focus, the feminist was suddenly disgusted with herself, and, “get this shit off me,” was her way of re-framing the horrifying mess she’d made by treating me like an Alpha male- the real truth of which may be up for minor debate.
Sex is like editing together a documentary film. Everything is based in reality, but it’s up to you to put together the story. Initial attraction may be there, but if you don’t string things together the right way, you’re not getting laid.