Men are from Mars, Women are from Somewhere Else
“Woman… can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”
- Flounder, Animal House
In the late 1990’s, author John Gray wrote a mega best selling hit entitled: Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus. The idea was that if the opposites sexes began to treat one another like we were from different planets, we would co-exist quite nicely here on this earthly plain. Gray claims that us men fail in our relationships because we attempt to fix a woman’s problems with our off the cuff, unemotional suggestions. He says that women don’t want answers – they want empathy - they want us to show that we understand how they feel and that we are there for them. Well, I think the author is the one who is from another galaxy because I have NO f@#king idea how a woman feels and I will NEVER understand then for as long as I live.
You guys know that I work from home and I don’t have the need to dress up or look presentable for anyone during the course of the day. For the longest time my wife would complain when she got home from her job that I looked like a slob and why can’t I look nice for her when she comes home. Last week we go to Kohl’s department store and she picks out a bunch of really nice shirts for me for the summer. So Friday I have a nice crisp golf shirt on, new jeans and shoes. The wife comes home, walks past my office, looks at me and snarls, “Why are you wearing your new stuff? You’re going to get food on them and turn them into crap within a week!”
For months she bitched that I dressed like a street urchin, and now I look nice and she bitched that I’m going to ruin my new clothes. All a man can do is throw his arms into the air and let out a hearty, “WTF?!”
Now my wife is ALWAYS telling me I’m fat, I look like a slob, and every other thing she can possibly kill me over. She basically acts more like my mother than my spouse. I never say anything bad to her because then I’m even more of a P.O.S. than usual. But this past weekend I threw out a zinger that I knew would wreak havoc. We were in the mall and I was waiting in the food court (yes, getting fatter by the minute on gyros, pizza, and Taco Hell) when she finally showed up with a sundress for our son’s 8th grade graduation. She asked if I liked the black one she picked out, or should she look at a lighter color. Well, the set up was there and I lobbed the girl an ugly-ass, off-speed curveball…
“I’d go for the black because it will cover that gut of yours a lot better.”
Yeah, that’s right Cotty, you horse’s ass, I REALLY DID say that. Holy Jezuz H. Christmas, I thought the gal was going to melt into an emotional puddle of goo right there in front of Auntie Anne’s Pretzels.
“I’m fat? I look fat? I really look that bad?” she whimpered like a bruised lil’ school girl.
“I’m just kidding honey,” I assured her. “I just thought it was a funny thing to say.”
Now, my wife is attractive and in good shape. She exercises and works hard to stay fit. She’s not fat at all, but I knew the pain that my off-hand remark would inflict, and after all the verbal beatings I have taken for SO LONG, it was time to have a little harmless fun. Well, harmless to me.
We walk no more than two minutes, and as we pass those annoying bastards in the T-Mobile booth, the wife turns to me and says, “You know, I think I look pretty good for my age.” I replied, “Of course you do.”
As we approached the knock-off designer sunglasses kiosk a minute later, she says, “You’ know, I’m not a kid anymore.” I said, “I know that.” She then says, “I can’t help it if I have a little more than I used to.” I replied, “I know you can’t.”
When we get inside the car, there is dead silence as she just stares aimlessly like her favorite kitten was devoured by a pit bull. I look at her, grab her wrist and say in a loud voice, “YOU’RE NOT FAT FOR CRISSAKES!”
“You think I’m fat and ugly.”
“No, I think you’re an oversensitive woman who breaks my balls for sport, but I make one stupid comment and you turn into a gelatinous blob of puke.” Good Lord. “Get a grip, woman, I was only kidding and you deserve a good shot once in a while”
“Tonight I start my diet. I’m also going to walk and extra mile each day. Do you think I should do crunches?”
It was an amazing little exchange that lasted well into the next day. She even told my daughter that I said she was a fat whale and needed to lose a lot of weight. I’m not one for pushing a person’s buttons, but this was downright bizarre. And the funny thing is, she wasn’t mad at me for the remark - she was saddened by it. Suddenly I felt so powerful, kind of like that wizard behind the curtain. And as much as my wife bats my skull in on a regular basis, I felt bad… well, maybe not all that bad.
Have a great week, my peeps. Btw, right now I’m wearing a cigar t-shirt that the Mrs. hates and my most blessed and holiest of boxer shorts. But don’t worry I’ll change into something nice and get yelled at a little later on.
Damed if ya do, and damned if ya don’t.
Tommy Z.
JR Cigars Blog With the Zman.
