Okay, anyone who has simply thought about reading my articles, but never gotten around to it KNOWS that I always whine and gripe about the joys of being a man. Well not today. Today men, I’m shoving it right back in yer faces (yes, when writing this I thought about typing “your” but settled against it as yer makes me seem more like a pirate! And a pirate I am).
Throwing a drink in a guy’s face. Classic. I had to put this first. It’s one of the most rewarding parts of being a woman. Truly.
Don’t touch me! This is good just as threat or if a guy looks like he might be about to put a hand on you, even if it’s just to usher you out of a bar as you’ve been asked to leave for being a drunken slob. This is such a satisfying thing to say, as men react to it like they’re in the army. They snap to attention, fearing an assault charge. I love it.
We put on shoes, we get taller. I’m not talking about the measly two inches that men get. I’m talking about life changing inches. People often ask me if I’m 5 foot nine. Crazy. I’m five foot five. Almost. Seriously, guys see you in heels a few times and they think you’re an Amazon. Tra la la.
Wow, your mother really did a number on you. This is a great little catch phrase to half mumble in a difficult guy’s presence as such difficult men are usually:
a. Very sensitive about their mothers.
b. Usually these mothers have effed them up in some way.
I don’t follow sports. As a woman, no one ever asks you to explain why. For some reason, your gender is enough.
Where should I put this? Guys often expect you to be some furniture-arranging-messiah, when often I feel like my guess is as good as yours. Though I do like the power. Move your couch against the wall; add an accent table and now you have an impromptu tea-and-book corner! Just like you always wanted!