You know, Rick Santorum might not have been wrong about not sending kids to college. Sure, there’s all that stuff about how we’re not training Americans for the jobs that really need filling – those trade school jobs that everyone is told are beneath them now – but then there’s this thing. Sex. According to the women who are testifying today in front of Congress in favor of letting America pay for their birth control, kids in school are having an awful lot of sex. So much sex that it seems they have time for basically nothing else.
Because based on the amount these Georgetown Law students say they’re spending on birth control – a number that is, presumably supposed to make me feel sorry for them because they are unable to acquire their birth control for free – they can’t possibly have any hope of passing any class, or taking on any career.
Apparently, four out of every ten co-eds are having so much sex that it’s hard to make ends meet if they have to pay for their own contraception, Fluke’s research shows.
“Forty percent of the female students at Georgetown Law reported to us that they struggled financially as a result of this policy (Georgetown student insurance not covering contraception), Fluke reported.
It costs a female student $3,000 to have protected sex over the course of her three-year stint in law school, according to her calculations.
“Without insurance coverage, contraception, as you know, can cost a woman over $3,000 during law school,” Fluke told the hearing.
A few key points here before we move on to how utterly ridiculous this assertion actually is:
- That is a lot of sex to have in law school. You should be studying. Law school is hard, or, at least, when I was in law school, I thought it was hard. Also, you are almost 25 years old. Grow the hell up.
- She earned $3K as a summer salary. What do most students earn on their summer salary? The chance to work for free again the next summer.
- These women are on “public interest scholarships” which means that they get their insurance, presumably, from their school, and use the school nurse practitioner/first aid clinic to fulfill their birth control needs. If these girls are under the age of 26 – and they look it – they can be on their parents’ insurance, which might offer better coverage. Except then their parents would know they are kind of whorish.
That said, the idea that they are paying $1000 per year for birth control is a little crazy. Condoms at CVS cost $1, so that means, if you take this cheaper option, you are actually having sex three times a day, which is kind of insane and you’re going to have a lot more medical expenses than just birth control. Like chafing. Also, you need psychological help. If its birth control pills they’re using, well, Planned Parenthood, which has plenty of offices within driving distance of the DC area, seems to think those only cost $15 – $50 per month, which is half Ms. Fluke’s estimate. A fitted diaphragm costs about $60 and can be used all year long, including special occasions. And IUDs and the Depo-Provera shot are half the estimate cost (at about $500 each).
Also, vibrators? Much cheaper than that.
Clearly, these ladies aren’t shopping around. Which is probably reason #1 you don’t want to have to pay for their birth control. Because clearly they went to law school because the principles of both business and mathematics eluded them. Maybe we do need to concentrate on better teaching our daughters their math and science. They’ll save us money when they decide to to be swingers.
Look, I don’t really give a sh*t what you do with your life, and I want government out of my bedroom as much as the next female of child-bearing age. But – and let’s be clear about this – that includes me not paying for your bad decisions, in the bedroom or anywhere else. There’s a cheap way to avoid the $1,000 price tag on birth control. Don’t have sex with people you don’t want to have children with. Or buy your own goddam insurance. And let’s be clear here: no matter how politically incorrect the assertion seems, having sex with random strangers in law school is a bad decision, both academically and hygenically speaking.
I made stupid decisions in law school, too. Most of them involved ill-advised footwear. But I don’t ask the rest of the country to pay for those stupid decisions, or for that matter, even my good decisions. Sure, it’d be great if they paid for a new pair of Coach flats every month, but lets face it. If I want that, that’s my problem. And Ms. Fluke, this one’s yours.