Spill wine all over my coat and handbag and don't offer to pay for cleaning, complain about the price of the duck a half-dozen times, make several references to sex and your dick size, talk only about yourself and never inquire about my life, don’t offer to pay for my parking or even walk me to the valet and then text me at 4a.m. after I told you I hate it when people text me between the hours of 11p.m. and 8a.m. Do just one of these things and you’re not likely to get a second date, but all of them in one evening? I hit the jackpot – all this from a man near fifty: from a generation where most mothers stayed at home and raised their children. He has no excuse for being an asshole. Why are people so completely lacking in social graces these days? Do I have to move to the Midwest, or perhaps Europe, to find a courteous man?
I always say: if you can’t afford the tip, you can’t afford the meal. And, if you can’t afford the meal, you probably can’t afford the girl. When I posted this saying on Twitter the other week, some man replied, “Why does the guy even have to pay?” I’m assuming by his comment and his general discontent with what I had to say that he was young and naïve. He could have just been an idiot. Let me clarify why the man pays: because chivalry is not dead, because women live longer and earn on average 25% less than men, because a woman’s expenses (from clothing to haircuts) are higher and because women’s lib failed miserably leaving women in a terrible predicament where men expect them to be Wonder Woman.
I once dated a very eligible young man who thought that his wife should earn a six figure salary and be a sex kitten, dog walker, event coordinator, mother, wife and a whole litany of other titles. I thought to myself pick one, maybe two – because no woman except Wonder Woman can be all those things – and threw him back in the pond. About a year later, another gal snapped him up and within two years, they were married and expecting their first child. The Guppy’s wife was an esthetician. The average esthetician salary is about $40,000 a year, which went out the window shortly after she became pregnant, and now with their second child recently born…well, there goes that dual income scenario for oh, I dunno, the next 18 years.
I recently had lunch with The Guppy who has since turned into a nice steelhead salmon. He agreed with my Wonder Woman theory and confessed that he now realized that a man can either have a woman who runs a fortune five hundred company, or a woman who is sexy and would make a good mother. Trying to find all three qualities in the same woman is as challenging as finding a cure for cancer. I admit that had I held The Guppy’s fin for a while, I could have landed a decent catch, but I learned my lesson long before with what I call Project Guys or Fixer Uppers. I am looking for a completed project. My experience with The Fixer Upper is you no sooner get him where you want him to be and you end up sick of him, or worse, he gets snatched up by some other woman. Please, thank you, you’re welcome, biatch! Step aside Queer Eye. Maybe I should hire myself out as an extreme makeover expert.