When I lock my keys in the car I will fiddle with a wire
clothes hanger and ignore your suggestions that we call a road service
until long after hypothermia has set in and I have damaged the vehicle.
Because I’m a man, when the car isn’t running very well, I will pop
the hood and stare at the engine as if I know what I’m looking at. If
another man shows up, one of us will say to the other, “I used to be able to fix these things, but now with all these computers
and everything, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Because I’m a man, when I catch a cold I need someone to bring me soup and take care of me while I lie in bed and moan.
You never get as sick as I do, so for you this isn’t an issue.
Because I’m a man, I can be relied upon to purchase basic
groceries at the store, like milk or bread. I cannot be expected to
find exotic items like “Cumin” or “lady fingers.” For all I know these could be the same thing. And NEVER, UNDER ANY
CIRCUMSTANCES, expect me to pick up anything for which “feminine hygiene product” is a euphemism.
Because I’m a man, when one of our appliances stops working
I will insist on taking it apart, despite evidence that this will just
cost me twice as much once the repair person gets here and has to put it back together.
Because I’m a man, I must hold the television remote control
in my hand while I watch TV. If the thing has been misplaced, I may
miss a whole show looking for it (though one time I was able to survive
by holding a calculator).
Because I’m a man, I don’t think we’re all that lost, and
no, I don’t think we should stop and ask someone. Why would you listen to a
complete stranger? I mean, how the hell could he know where we’re going?
Because I’m a man, there is no need to ask me what I’m
thinking about, especially while driving quietly. The answer is always
either sex or sports, though I have to make up something else when you ask, so don’t.
Because I’m a man, I do not want to visit your mother, or
have your mother come visit us, or talk to her when she calls, or think
about her any more than I have to. Whatever you got her for mother’s day is okay, I don’t need to see it. And don’t forget to
pick up something for my Mom, too!
Because I’m a man, you don’t have to ask me if I liked the
movie. Chances are, if you’re crying at the end of it, I didn’t.
Because I’m a man, yes, I have to turn up the radio when
Bruce Springsteen or The Doors comes on, and then, yes, I have to tell
you every single time about how Bruce had his picture on the cover
of Time and Newsweek the same day, or how Jim Morrison is buried in
Paris and everyone visits his grave. Please do not behave as if you do not
find this fascinating.
Because I’m a man, I think what you’re wearing is fine. I
thought what you were wearing five minutes ago was fine, too. Either pair
of shoes is fine. With the belt or without it looks fine. Your hair is
fine. You look fine.
Because I’m a man, I will
share equally in the housework. You just do the laundry, the cooking, the
gardening, the cleaning, and the dishes. I’ll do all the rest.
This has been a Public Service message for women, to better
understand the male animal.
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