The Answer Is Yes

From a young age, I was brought up under the tutelage of, what I consider to be, respectable role models, even though many of them happen to have been of the less reputed, and oft-criticized male classification. In fact, to this day, I don’t quite understand why men, as an organization, seem to have such a bad rap. Sure, we may find humor in the simplest forms; such as: bodily functions, jokes involving bodily functions, or any unexpected, solid-object making contact with areas where bodily functions are emitted. But that really shouldn’t be a determining factor for our overall intelligence. If anything, it is just another great example of our ability to “keep it real”. After all, it is a lot cheaper to spend side-splitting hours making fart sounds come from armpits than it is to gossip about the latest hook-ups and break-ups over a three hour shopping spree that results in hundreds of dollars worth of shoes that seem to differ only in color. But I digress.

I was always taught to respect women and treat them equal. However, I have to admit that this has been hard at times and, quite often, a bit confusing. After all, girls always seemed perfectly capable of opening their own doors. But for whatever reason, society —and by society I am referring to every woman I know— has made it perfectly clear that failure to assist in this seemingly trivial task can have a damaging and lingering effect that will undoubtedly resurface at every opportunity possible.

This is also true of a certain sensitive, yet uncomfortable situation that men get forced into all too regularly. I am, of course, referring to the interrogation that takes place whenever a new outfit is put on. At the risk of over-generalizing, similar situations may also include, but are not limited to: pants, shoes, dresses, skirts, hair styles, pajamas, cars, houses, house plants, mirrors, couches, friends, ex-friends, enemies, strangers, electronic equipment, and basically anything that a female may, or may not, come in contact with.

In fact, just the other day, as I was watching a sporting event on the television, I found myself backed in to one of these tight-fitting corners. My wife sat down next to me on the couch and, with a heavy sigh, asked if I thought her arms were skinnier than an acquaintance we had made earlier in the week. It is actually quite a surreal experience to be in a pickle, such as this, and also be simultaneously watching the infielders on the TV put a base runner in a pickle between first and second. In either case, you had better be a quick thinker or a fast runner.

My answer was obviously, yes. I passed the test. But, honestly, did I really have a choice? I mean, what options did I have? I am not insinuating that I lied. It’s just that, unless you have a combination of poor judgment and a lofty moral code or you’ve been slapped in the face too many times to remember the proper response protocol, there really is only one viable answer for situations like the one I found myself in. The real problem comes when you begin to wonder if they really believe the answers we give them. After all, for the thousands of years we’ve spent together on this giant, co-educational rock we call earth, women have to be aware of the fact that men are constantly being less than honest with them.

I wouldn’t even call it lying, really. Nor would I say that our lack of complete honesty is specifically done in an effort to spare feelings. If anything, the answers we give in situations like this are probably more for our own welfare then they are for the women with the probing inquisitions. In fact, I wouldn’t even label them as answers or responses. They are reactions. Our reactions, I would say, are typically made in an effort to get us out of the uncomfortable situation as fast as possible and back into the mindless, easy-going world we know and love. It’s all just part of the “fight or flight” instincts that kick in when we are put in imminent peril.

When it’s all said and done, wondering if women know this or not really doesn’t matter. What does matter is that our answers, whether brutally honest or exactly what they want to hear, achieve both agendas and placate all parties involved. After all, constantly worrying if the pin stripes on the uniform make the player look fat just makes the game go slower.