There’s been a lot of talk about men within the past 48 hours. On-line and off. I have tried to get my point across and failed miserably. I can understand why some are confused about me. On the one hand, I readily admit that I don’t like men; yet in the same breath, I state that I get along very well with them. How to explain this?
Jack Nicolson was looking for a few good men. Women all over the world are joining him in that quest. How do women know when they find a member of the male species that it’s a good one? They can’t squeeze him for ripeness; they can’t examine him (like they would apples and tomatoes) for brown spots showing signs of decay. It seems to me that women, where it comes to men, are rather reckless.
- Before taking a job, a candidate can research the company online or talk to past and present employees.
- Before buying kitchen appliances, most women read the reviews.
- Before buying clothes or shoes, the chosen item is tried on for fit and comfort.
So why are women who deal with an item they are supposed to keep for life, take a man they meet at face value?
Some might say they don’t, that’s what dating is for, to get ‘a feel’ for the guy. True, but not exactly accurate. How many people – men and women alike – show their true selves while dating? I think it’s safe to say that before going on a date, a man will shower and shave, comb his hair, and put on something nice. In other words, he will show himself from his best side.
If he steps over the line and swears, gets upset or worse gets a little violent, he will state that he was not himself or that ordinary he is not like that. And women swallow it. They are so in love that they don’t see the ‘brown spots’. And even if they do, the sight of the flowers they get presented with, or the size of the diamond in the engagement ring will cloud their vision.
When I say that I don’t like men, it’s because I’ve seen too many bad apples. Hence my hesitation to ‘buy’ one. Over the weekend I talked with Vicky (not her real name). She got tearful when she admitted to me that she was afraid she was going to end up an old maid. “Vicky,” I said, “the term old maid is so passé.” “You know what I mean,” she said, “I’m afraid I won’t find anyone to grow old with, to take care of me.”
That’s when I started to wonder … why do women get married? Is it because of love or is it to have some company in their golden years? Is it for financial reasons? Is that all that men are good for? A body to share a space with and to keep the bank account in the positive? Is that why I steer clear of men? Because I don’t feel the need for male company and I don’t need to be taken care of?
Do men feel this when they are in my company? I can laugh and joke around with them. They know that, unlike Vicky, I don’t want anything from them. I’m not going to chase them and I don’t want to be chased. They can be themselves, without me being shocked or getting stars in my eyes. Do I get my point across? Do you get it? If you do … great; if you don’t then I guess you have to know me to understand me.