Men
often hear what we want to hear. It gets us into trouble. My interpretation
skills have been honed by the numerous misunderstandings I’ve encountered. Today,
I can usually find the true meaning between the words women speak. When I misinterpret,
I simply add the mistake to lessons learned, wipe the wine from my face, and
trudge forward.
For
example, when a woman says, “Nothing’s wrong,” something most definitely is wrong
and the man shall pay. The foolish man hears her words and assumes he has a
pass. Silly boy.
“Are you
sure, honey?”
“Yes, of
course.”
“So, you
won’t mind if I stay for one more beer?”
“No, not
at all. Take your time and have fun with the boys, sweetie.”
“You’re
not mad?”
“Why
would I be mad? I have plenty to do around here.”
“You’re
the best. Hey, don’t bother waiting up for me. I know how you need your sleep.”
“Oh, so
you plan on being home late?”
“Gee, I
don’t know. I just don’t want you to wait up.”
“OK,
that’s fine.”
“Thanks,
honey. You’re the best.”
“No
problem.”
*click*
That man
thinks he’s sailing the glassy seas on The Love Boat, but he’s really up Shit’s
Creek rowing with teaspoons in a slowly deflating inner tube.
After he
hangs up, he returns to his pack of wild apes and proudly proclaims he has the
coolest wife ever.
“She
trusts me.”
“Wow.
She didn’t give you any attitude at all?”
“Nope.
She said to stay out as late as I want.”
“Interesting.”
“What?
You think she’s just saying that?”
“It’s
possible.”
“Hm.
Maybe I should call her back.”
Mr.
Oblivious heads back outside and redials the wife. The call goes straight to
voicemail because the wife is now on the phone with her BFF.
“He
what?”
“I know.
I deal with assholes all day at work and all I want to do is come home and
unwind with a glass of wine and conversation. Instead, I find his cereal bowl
on the table, his muddy shoes on the carpet, and a half-drank beer sitting next
to the coaster on my antique end table.”
“Oy.”
“Then,
he has the nerve to call me after I’m halfway through making a casserole to say
he went to happy hour with the guys.”
“I have
a chilled bottle of La Crema begging us to drink it.”
“Ugh, I’m
so mad at him.”
“You don’t
think he’s fooling around with someone at work, do you?”
“No, but
it wouldn’t surprise me to find out they’re at Hooters or a titty bar.”
“See?
This is why I stay single. When I need a man, I do what it takes, get what I
need, and pat his fanny as I escort him out of my life.”
“I’m
probably overreacting. Fuck it. Bring that bottle over. Let’s get buzzed and watch
some trash TV.”
“Excellent.”
“When
dickhead gets home I’m totally going to play dead and not let him touch me.”
“That’s
what he deserves.”
The man
is under such a self-delusion that he probably won’t realize his misdeed until
the wife brings it up three months later as part of a new argument. Ah, love.
