As far as relationships go, I have seen both ends of the totem pole. There are the guys who would go to the ends of the earth for you – and they actually do, whether you want them to or not – and then there are the men who go to the end of the earth (whether for you or not) and decide to stay there indefinitely.
I think men are under the impression that all women want the absolute, end-of-the-world-for-you man, and perhaps some actually do.
I do not.
I was recently discussing chivarly with Marie Claire contributor Abraham Lloyd, and whether the word carried any meaning today – or if it was, in fact, a concept that was DOA.
Whether it is or not, I realized that there are some male signs of affections – those adorable, little ways he shows you he cares – that I cannot support being a woman of the 21st century.
Ordering my Meal For Me
You’d think this is a no-brainer, but I can’t even count on my fingers (that’s more than ten for the mathematically challenged) the number of times I’ve seen a couple next to me where the male is deciding the outcome of the evening for all. I have never fallen subject to such a situation, and if I had, said male would be eating two meals for one. There is nothing more unappetizing than having no say in your own dinner experience.
Letting Me Win in Sports
How precious. You think you will hurt my feelings if I don’t get the win. I don’t think the following thought has ever occurred to men (and maybe it’s just me), but I feel much less accomplished getting a win I didn’t deserve than losing fair and square. There is also the fact that I can beat you on my own, and don’t really need the “additional help.” Thanks, anyhow.
There is something worse, though. It’s when we do win fair and square, and said male tries to play it off as though he let us win. It’s not only ridiculous, but we always know when you’re doing it – so knock it off.
Holding my Umbrella
This one doesn’t bother me so much as its simply awkward. My reasons for this are: my purse alone deserves its own umbrella, I can rarely keep up with your long man-strides and speedy legs, and I’d rather just do it on my own. Thanks.
Pulling out my chair
(A special thanks to Jupiter images for capturing the awkwardness that is the chair pull-out)
I am sure this one will not go over well with my fellow ladies, but its simply an act I cannot support. No rhyme or reason, other than I find it both incredibly awkward and outdated. The same can be said of the car door, especially being that the times no longer require most of us to manually open a door – unless, of course, you are me.
Tucking me in
I do not want to date my mother.
I mean, really – is it just me here?