Published June 27, 2016, VANILLA SEX MAGAZINE
Imagine an office. It has hallways and windows. It has restrooms for men and restrooms for women. It has closets filled with cleaning supplies. It has photographs of mountains nailed to the walls. It has doors that lead to hallways and doors that lead to stairs. It has cupboards, computers and mugs with coffee stains stuck to the bottom.
In the office, everyone works. They check their email and talk on the phone. They write in yellow notepads and chew on their pens. They break for lunch around noon.
Everyone in the office is working on a big project and that project is a vagina. It sounds shocking but it’s not. It’s a job, like any other. The break room is the clitoris. The elevators are the labia. The conference room is the urethral opening. It’s not that complicated.
The vagina is different from the penis, which is The National Monument. That’s not to put down the National Monument, a national symbol respected by all. It’s just that the vagina is different. It has politics. It has days off. It has happy hours that everyone loves and long meetings that everyone hates.
I work in an office. Actually, the office where I work is the vagina I’ve been talking about. When go to work, I laugh because the people in the office don’t know they’re in a vagina. They look at me and wonder what’s so funny. I don’t tell them what I discovered. It would ruin the surprise.