Because I am in the process of deleting my old MySpace blog, some of my entries here will simply be reposts of things I originally wrote there. This was one of my first blog entries over there, and remains one of my favorites.
OK, so I'll admit it....from time to time, my frustrations seem to have a bit of a misogynistic air to them. I certainly don't intend them to come out that way, but much like Ted Kennedy driving off of a bridge, some things are just unavoidable.
But, in the interest of "fair play", I'll use this blog to take a few shots at my own gender. So ladies, pay attention, this one is for you:
1) When you are talking to a man in preparation for you first date, it is rather worthless to ask him if he's talked to his friends about you. Chances are, unless he's just looking for a quick lay, that he has. But here's the catch...he hasn't TOLD THEM anything about you other than basic Name, Rank, Serial Number information. Chances are, what he's said boils down to a sentence similar to "Oh, I've got a date tonight...just some skirt I've been talking to online. She seems cool enough I guess....I hope she like Mexican Food, because that's what I'm hungry for. Dude, we haven't gone out for Mexican in months" and the conversation will deteriorate from there into comparing various Mexican Restaurants.
Now ladies, I understand that your first instinct will be to be insulted or even upset at this apparent slight...but that's not it. Inside, this guy is probably tied in knots and can't think of anything more profound to says "Gar-huh....huh...she's pretty....I hope she likes me". But because we're men, and we enjoy keeping our friendships with other men as superficial as possible (yes, even our best friends), we're not going to tell them about any insecurities or apprehensions we have over meeting you. Such a declaration would be viewed as weakness to other men and our hero would quickly be yclept with a girls name (something insulting, like Susie, or Janie) and maybe even tossed a good old fashioned beat down. At the very least, he's going to get nailed in the shoulder and teased mercilessly by his fellow males. This is how we bond. You can't change it. Please don't try.
2) If you ask a man to tell you a joke to put you in a good mood, I guarantee one of the first jokes that's going to spring to mind is going to be something along the lines of "What do you tell a woman with 2 black eyes? Nothing! You already told her twice". Now, the ability to suppress that joke and replace it with something about kittens or farmers or lawyers is what separates "nice guys" from the rest of the pack. But please, don't tease yourself into thinking because we didn't go for the chauvinist laugh that we don't find it funny. We do. You don't believe me and want to test this? Sit down with your man and watch the 2004 remake of "The Stepford Wives". Toward the end of the movie, Christopher Walken makes the announcement "Men! Control your WIVES!". Watch your mans facial expression at this part. I can guarantee you that your man will let loose a smirk, a grin, or at the very least a momentary widening of the eyes in humorous amusement. This doesn't mean we all AGREE with that sentiment, but it touches on something long dormant in the Domesticated Human Male. No amount of tears will ever flush that spark from us, so please don't try. As long as your man doesn't outwardly ACT like that around you, just let it ride.
3) Men hate dating. We hate a lot of things....Taxes, Gun Control, Hippy-Liberals, Hybrid Cars, and Any TV Show with the words "Desperate" and "Housewives" in the title....but we hold a particular loathing of the modern dating ritual.
Engrained in each mans DNA is the blueprint from the caveman days where we would see a cavewoman we liked, smack her over the head with our clubs, and drag her back to our cave (or the backseat of our '69 Charger....whichever is closer).
However, we are now forced to participate in the "dating ritual" wherein we agree to meet on some neutral territory and attempt to make polite flirty conversation whilst paying strict attention to parts of Rules Number One and Two(see above if you've forgotten....then look into special ed classes on reading retention).
We will feign interest as you talk endlessly about your pet cat you had as a child. We will laugh at your jokes, we will be polite, we will be friendly...hell, some of us might even SHOWER before we show up...but don't bet the bank on that.
And at the conclusion of the date we will fumble clumsily as we try to decide whether to shake your hand, pat you on the shoulder, hug you, kiss you, and just nod and say "I'll call you".
So ladies, if you want us to kiss you, let us know....be specific, don't just flip your hair and then say to us three days later (once we are forever locked in the black hole of your friend-zone) "Well, you should have kissed me, I really wanted you to...now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go ride my mechanic like a rodeo star, then come crying to you when he doesn't call me the next day"
Yes, in classic times, men were supposed to "Make The First Move"...however, much like honest Democrats and Personal Responsibility, our "Making The First Move" has been rendered extinct by the one weapon you have in your arsenal that we have no defense against. The Speech. This brings us to our next rule.
4) The only thing men hate more than dating is the speech. And ladies, don't sit there in doe-eyed wonder and say "What Speech are you talking about Big-Daddy?" You know the speech. You've known The Speech since before you could talk. It's the "Lets Just Be Friends" speech. You have it memorized. In the good-old-days, when little girls played with Barbie and Ken, they always had Barbie and Ken get married. This no longer happens, and it has nothing to do with Ken's distinct lack of genitalia, nor his obviously questionable sexual preference. This happens because women have discovered that The Speech gives them power. Man leans in for a kiss, woman stops him and says "Look, you're a really Nice Guy (don't even freaking get me started on Nice Guy either), but I think we're better off as friends". We hate this. We'd ask you to stop, but we'd have better luck asking Nancy Pelosi to stop putting kittens in the microwave and eating small children. We haven't made a "friendship" decision until we at LEAST see a nipple. Up until the nipple makes its first appearance, chances are we don't want to just be thrown into the "Friend Zone".
5) If the date continues on from dinner to a movie, please respect us enough to NOT ask us what movie we want to see as we're standing outside the theatre looking at the marquee. You see that movie poster with Angelina Joile and Jennifer Aniston dressed as cheerleaders, with their hands on each others asses while a '67 Mustang decked out with machine guns is driving away from a fireball that used to be dirty stinking terrorists? Yea. That's the movie we want to go see. If it were up to us, we CERTAINLY would never dream of dropping $14 on two tickets to go see a movie about an emotionally scarred 11 year old who learns to love again because her estranged father bought her a horse that only she can tame. If it were up to us, we wouldn't go see that movie if you super-glued our ball-sack to a cannonball and fired it through the theatre doors, while offering Lesbian Oil Wrestling during intermission. So spare us the "I want your opinion" talk, and just tell us what movie we're going to see. We'll laugh at the funny parts (if there are any) and we'll offer you one of our napkins to use as a tissue when you're bawling at the end of it. It's a small sacrifice we make for Gender Harmony. We don't expect payback....and I'm certainly not saying this to make you feel bad in any way, this is only for information. Personally, I feel that it's differences between the sexes like this that make relationships fun.
And while we're on the subject of movies, please do not sigh, or watch the clock while we are at the Self-Serve Butter Dispenser with our Jumbo Bag O' Popcorn. Yes, I realize we just polished off a 32 oz Prime Rib complete with Twice-Baked Potatoes at the restaurant. That was then, this is now. Has the bag been transformed into a soggy ball of pulp and can we forgo eating the popcorn and instead suck it through a straw? No? Then we aren't done buttering it yet. Don't worry about the other men in line behind us...they know the score, and their only anxiety is that we're going to drain the butter dispenser before they get their own paws on it's artery-clogging goodness. Butter is less a condiment to men, and is closer to a beverage. As long as we don't wipe our greasy mitts on your purse, please don't complain.
I'm just sayin'
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