Casual sex happens in St Andrews, yet it cannot, and does not, exist. Our social culture is inherently inhibitive of casual sex. It always happens to evolve into something more. Having a solely physical relationship seems near enough impossible in this tiny town.
St Andrews is so small that a person constantly runs into the casual-sex-partner doing very everyday activities. Actually, each citation occurs when doing very spouse-like activities: grocery shopping, volunteering with SVS, playing rugby, dinner parties. Thus, seeing the casual-sex-partner so frequently, engulfed in their everyday lives, means that they become something more. They start to lose their anonymity and gain an identity.
They transform into the person who studies IR from the U.S. or the person who bought a bottle of champagne and a case of Tennent’s last Tuesday night. You begin to observe the clubs and societies of which they are a member, as you recognise them in Blind Mirth and Music is Love – paying particular attention to the guitar he fingered delicately just like he did that one time…
Then it turns out that he’s running for elections, do you vote for him or not? If you do, and he wins, you’ve had sex with the president but you’re tempted not to because he was such a dick.
No, no. Casual sex cannot stay casual. You can kid yourself that a couple of drunk hook ups doesn’t count as serious, but by the forth time, you may as well be going out. It’s not as if you can move on right away without your casual-sex partner finding out. Things get especially tricky when other people know him and you get judged for your selection.
It no longer is casual when it causes so much anxiety and gossip, making you feel as if people have lost respect. So what if you’ve open your legs and embraced your sexuality as a female. It’s not casual when you start to feel trapped and repressed. Why can’t we lose our inhibitions and embrace the carnal?!
But you can’t, because there is nothing casual about sex in St Andrews.