Women: more than the pyramids or Stonehenge, they’re the earth’s greatest mystery.
Don’t get me wrong, I understand how they got here. Any perverted kid with a tenth grade health credit knows the answer to that. But what they’re thinking, how they’re acting, who they’re dating: these are the queries that trouble my everyday life.
I remember being a single man on the outside looking in. My distant observations did nothing to solve their riddle. If it was answers that I needed, then I would have to cross the gender divide. And no, I wasn’t considering cross dressing! It was much more hopeless than that. I was going to try to date one of them.
Hey, if Elton John could do it, then why couldn’t I be successful? But without virtuoso piano abilities, rhinestone glasses and millions of dollars, my heterosexuality was only a minor asset. Landing a girlfriend proved to be very difficult indeed.
The first thing that I noticed is the fact that beautiful women are never really single. This is because they never quit a job until they’re sure they have a new one. Much like a Mexican bus, a woman’s life never stops to let you get on. If you want in, then you have to run alongside her and jump aboard when the timing is right.
Even when a beautiful woman is dating, she is always subtly accepting resumes and thus, exploring her options. Like Bobby Fischer, she sees her relationships two or three moves in advance. Sure, you may be her boyfriend in December, but she already knows who she’ll be dating in February. But don’t be too jealous of that guy. His is a contract position, and he’ll be done by June. In short, the lesson learned is never be afraid to hit on a beautiful woman who is already in a relationship. Just make sure her gigantic boyfriend is not there while you’re doing it.
The second obstacle I encountered was women looking for friendship. Why women think men would ever be interested in this as a possibility is beyond me? In a man’s eyes, every male/female relationship with no blood ties comes with the possibility of intercourse. Any man who tells you otherwise is a liar! So beautiful women out there, now you know your platonic heterosexual male confidant’s true intentions. And men in this situation, if she’s confiding in you, then you’re down on the depth chart: she’s showing you the plan because she knows you’ll never get into the game.
My biggest bout of fury with platonic friendship came a few years ago when my female friend accompanied me to the barbers to watch me get my hair cut. The barber asked her, “How would you like me to cut your boyfriend’s hair?”, to which she responded, “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”
Fair enough. But then, she followed up by saying, “he’ll have it short on the sides with ear length sideburns. Make it jelled and messy on the top.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa”, I cautioned her. “Just who do you think you are? You can’t have it both ways. You’re in no position to make these kinds of decisions! Here’s how it’s going to be: either I get my hair cut the way I like it or I take your suggestions and you give me action! You can’t talk the girlfriend talk unless you walk the girlfriend walk.”
Needless to say, I haven’t heard from her since. I tried to jump on a moving bus and I failed. I didn’t care, another one would be along soon enough.
This post is dedicated to my wife, a streetcar named Laura.
By: Alex Headley
(the very Headley of, Headley Talks, a wheelchair accessible blog that takes pride in promoting a fully accessible Ontario.)
Now that's transit!
Tags: Comedy, relationships