Lucky me. I was one of the fortunate few selected to receive the latest in a string of chain e-mails. Only this time, instead of a “can’t miss” financial scheme from a Nigerian king, this latest one tried to persuade me that women have it worse than Paris Hilton at a Mensa meeting. That I was even chosen to receive it proves I’m not the insensitive Neanderthal my wife swears I am (hey, I cried when-SPOILER ALERT-“Old Yeller” died!).
Evidently, the sender thought I’d get a kick out of a list which trumpets the misery of armpit shaving, heel wearing, and eyebrow plucking.
Sure, I liked it in a “you go, girlfriend” kind of way. But, I hesitated to share that at our last Super Bowl party. I really didn’t want the gender police to come crashing through my door, demanding surrender of my Guy Card.
But, burkhas and bikini waxes notwithstanding, I can’t see how it’s all that bad being a girl. Ladies, c’mon! Do bullies ever kick sand in YOUR face at the beach?
So, the next time you ladies are patting yourselves on the backs and high-fiving during the next Lifetime Channel Marathon (“All PMS! All Day!!”), you may want to consider what it’s like to be a man.
Indeed, what makes up guys like us?
1. We worry about being called to the chalkboard while daydreaming. “Is that a banana in your pocket, Mr. Penwasser, or are you just happy to diagram sentences?”
2. We avoid getting kicked in the...uh...well, you know where. At all costs.
3. We must know how to fix a car or our very manhood is called into question. At the very least, we need to know how to lift the hood and stare meaningfully at the engine as if we knew a carburetor from a Double Beef Whopper With Extra Cheese. Hmmmmmm, whopper. Oh, and calling AAA doesn’t count.
4. We’re counted on to be the breadwinners, even if our wife’s maiden name is “Trump.”
5. Refractory period. ‘Nuff said.
6. Ladies don’t suffer from performance anxiety...if you know what I mean.
7. Women don’t have to worry about being told they “throw like a girl.”
8. Two words: Body parts. Zippers.
10. What in the name of androgyny is an “ubersexual”? I’ll take torn jeans, ratty sneakers, and washing my hair with soap anytime.
11. Gotta know the difference between a crescent wrench and vise grips. “That metal thingie” may work for my wife, but it’ll get ME laughed out of Home Depot.
12. We’re supposed to be able to whip up 100 pancakes, cook an omelet which would make a French chef weep, and barbecue an elephant on the grill.
13. Knowing how to golf, bowl, fish, hunt, and shoot pool are key elements to membership in the Guy Club.
14. We actually know the answer to the age-old “Ginger or Mary Ann?” conundrum.
15. YOU say “Clothes shopping at the mall.” WE say “Cart pushing through ‘Guy Hell’.”
16. Church service at 9:00. Kick-off at 1:00. Still think God isn’t a ‘he’?
17. The “Best of Oprah” puts us to sleep faster than a 20-inning no-hitter.
18. Guys never say “adorable”, “precious”, or “cute.” Ever.
19. Men know that, when confronted with the dilemma of two of three stalls being occupied, the obvious solution is another bathroom.
20. Faced with the prospect of sharing a king-sized bed with another guy or sleeping in the dog’s bed, we’ll choose Rover’s crib anytime.
21. Farts make us laugh.
22. Sorting whites from darks can’t be any harder than computing an ERA, fixing a lawnmower, programming the VCR, or baiting a hook.
23. Shrieking at the sight of a mouse loses many valuable “Guy Cool Points.”
24. Why is it always, “Honey, I heard a noise downstairs. Please go check.”?
25. You may have fat ankles, but have you seen that hair on our backs, in our ears, and from our noses?
26. We pat each other on the fanny in the huddle but, never, EVER make eye contact at the urinal.
27. Nobody can convince me that “#1 Grampa” baseball caps, black socks with sandals, and metal detectors on the beach aren’t dorkier than blue hair.
28. You have “The View”, we have “NASCAR.” You have Brad Pitt, we have Jessica Alba. You have HGTV, we have ESPN. You have Martha Stewart, you can have Hugh Grant.
29. Menopause, schmenopause. Try male pattern baldness, prostates the size of small dogs, and man boobs.
30. Last, but by no means least: erectile dysfunction.
My list complete, I crack open a can of beer, prop my feet up on the coffee table, and flip on SportsCenter. Chuckling to myself, I can’t help but be proud that I sport a Y chromosome.
As I further pondered our differences, though, I have to be honest. I suppose we do have it equally good and equally bad. I mean, for every stray nose hair we have there’s unwanted facial fuzz for you. For every nightclub shootout, there’s an obnoxious pick-up line at Happy Hour.
Women never have to worry about six-pack abs. But, then again, men never have to fret over “Does this make me look fat?”
A bit deflated, I compared the lists and decided no one sex has it over the other.
But, suddenly, like a lightning bolt from out of the blue, I was struck by one undeniable fact. One truism that makes me so happy to be a guy that I could belch out the alphabet and stick my hand in my pants:
Women have to kiss guys.