Let me tell you, I spent the better part of three weekends trying to nail down this stupid compatibility score, and it nearly cost me my sanity. The whole thing started because my buddy, Mike, a total, textbook Sagittarius, was obsessed with this Virgo woman, Sarah. He swore they were fire and ice in bed, but outside of it, they couldn’t agree on where to park the car, let alone life goals. Mike kept nagging me, asking, “Dude, what do the real astrologers say about our intimacy rating? Not that Cosmo bullshit. I need the definitive score.”
The Frantic Search for the Definitive Score
I started digging. When I say digging, I mean falling down the darkest, most dusty corners of the internet where actual, old-school, non-Instagram astrologers hang out. I wasn’t looking for soft focus ‘love affirmations.’ I wanted raw, numerical data on Sagittarius fire meeting Virgo earth. I wanted to know the percentage of success when they shut the bedroom door.
First stop, I waded through forums. Forget it. It was 90% newbies arguing about Moon signs they barely understood. Then, I chased down a few known professional chart readers—the ones who charge five hundred bucks an hour and use terms like ‘synastry’ and ‘karmic debt’ without irony. I started trying to synthesize what they actually rated the physical aspect of this matchup.
What I found was chaos. One self-proclaimed expert, some guy in Arizona who specialized in medical astrology, insisted that because Sagittarius ruled the thighs and Virgo the digestive system, the compatibility was inherently low due to misaligned energy centers. What the hell does that even mean? I had to read through five dense pages of planetary aspects just to get him to imply a score of maybe 4 out of 10 for pure, sustained physical heat.
Another lady, who ran a small consultancy focusing on relationship dynamics, provided a complex, tiered system. She rated the initial spark between Sag and Virgo high—say, 8/10—because the Sag enthusiasm catches the Virgo eye. But she instantly slammed the rating for maintenance and emotional satisfaction down to a 3/10. Her reasoning? Virgo needs routine and precision, Sag needs spontaneous freedom. That’s a recipe for one person feeling like they are marking off a checklist and the other feeling like they are trapped in a cage.
I swear, I collected and cross-referenced at least eight different major readings. I built a spreadsheet—yes, a goddamn spreadsheet—to quantify the nebulous garbage these “experts” were spewing. I tried to average the physical intimacy score. And you know what the definitive number was?
It was garbage.
Applying the Data: The Real-World Grind
I had to abandon the idea of a simple, clean score. There wasn’t one. The astrologers aren’t rating intimacy; they’re rating tolerance. They are telling you how much work it is going to be. So I flipped the script and went back to Mike and Sarah.
I watched them interact, and I talked to Mike constantly. The ‘high score’ moments the experts talked about—the hot, impulsive Sagittarius grab—that was there. Mike described their early days as explosive, a 9/10 rush. But within months, the Virgo need for cleanliness and scheduling started to choke the Sag joy. Sarah, the Virgo, started critiquing his technique, his timing, even his laundry habits near the bed. She needs everything just so to relax and fully engage.
Mike, being the impulsive Sag, retreated. He got bored because the passion became a performance review. The physical relationship, which started at a nine, plunged hard. When I talked to Mike after six months, he didn’t even care about the initial spark anymore. He just felt judged every time they went near the bedroom.
The average score I had calculated from the ‘experts’ was 5.5/10. But that’s useless, isn’t it? That number doesn’t capture the extreme high followed by the miserable, critical crash.
What I Actually Learned (Forget the Stars)
I spent all this time trying to find an external authority to rate a relationship, and the truth is, the chart readers are just telling you the obvious personality traits, only dressed up in confusing terminology. My real practice record looks like this:
- I verified that the initial attraction is often strong, based on novelty (Sagittarius loves a mystery, Virgo looks dependable).
- I documented the inevitable, rapid conflict over routine versus freedom.
- I concluded that the ‘intimacy score’ is not a static number, it’s a sliding scale determined entirely by how well the Sag can accept structure and how well the Virgo can tolerate mess.
So, Mike asked me what the definitive compatibility score was. I threw the spreadsheets away. I told him there is no single score. If he can handle being told he didn’t clean the sheets correctly after they finished, it’s a 7/10. If he can’t handle that critique, it’s a 2/10 and he needs to run. The charts don’t dictate the pleasure; they only predict the friction. And with Sag and Virgo, the friction is almost always more powerful than the heat.
Stop looking for the magic number. Go figure out if you can live with the complaints, because that’s the real compatibility test for these two signs in bed.
