A Public Service message for, and directed at, Women; For their edification, so that they may better understand the Male animal:


Because I'm a man, 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.

(That's okay; I anticipated this and my coat and a beach chair are in the trunk. That big purse you're always complaining about? It has a book, my DS, reading glasses, some soda and assorted snacks - for me. Don't ask to share, either.)

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." We will then drink beer.

(That's okay, Honey. You sit there and look pretty while I get my tool kit out and fix it.)

Because I'm a man, when I catch a cold I need you 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.

(Be glad to ... as long as you don't figure out what I put in your soup.)

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 "tofu." For all I know, these are the same thing. And never, under any circumstances, expect me to pick up anything for which "feminine hygiene product" is a euphemism.

(No problem. I'll be glad to go get them ... see my answer above.)

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.

(Yes, and I'm planning on a spa trip in the Bahamas to spend that $10k I win from my entry of you on "Funniest Home Videos".)

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, never once thinking to change the channel at the TV. (Although, one time, I was able to survive by holding a calculator.)

(I don't want the remote because I know what ELSE you're always holding in your hand. And that you never wash your hands either.)

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?

(That's why I told you we had to leave 24 hours sooner than we really needed to.)

Because I'm a man, there is no need to ask me what I'm thinking about. The answer is always either sex or ...well...sex. Although I have to make up something else when you ask, so don't.

(That's only a ruse to keep you from asking what I'm thinking about: those diamond earrings you'd BETTER get me for the anniversary you'll forget about ... because I've earned them.)

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!!

(I did but the ER staff is having a bit of difficulty picking the cactus spines out of her sizeable azz as we speak ...)

Because I'm a man, I am capable of announcing, "One more beer and I really have to go," and mean it every single time I say it, even when it gets to the point that the one bar closes and my buddies and I have to go hunt down another. I will find it increasingly hilarious to have my pals call you to tell you I'll be home soon, and no, I don't understand why you threw all my clothes into the front yard. Like, what's the connection?

(Clothes in the front yard + gasoline = me doing a strip dance around the bonfire. Hope your buddies can top that.)

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.

(That's what you get for being a sucker and letting me choose a movie you pay for.)

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.

(I'm sorry, did you say something? I was too busy thinking about how hot both Bruce and Jim used to be ...)

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. Can we just go now?

(Absolutely. I can't wait to hear you blame me for forgetting to put on socks. BTW, I think I'll wait to tell you that you're unzipped until I let you make at least two rounds of the room.)

Because I'm a man, and this is, after all, the new Millennium, I will share equally in the housework. You just do the laundry, the cooking, the gardening, the cleaning, the dishes, and oh, I almost forgot, the kids. But hey, Baby, I do the rest, OK?

(Sure, Baby. But don't be surprised when I start to wonder while I'm at work and have time to think, what I need you for?)

And don't be surprised that I can do all of this ... Because I'm a woman.

That was a great response; I like your sense of humour.