How the Other Half Would Live

Unlike Tireseas, we get the view from only one side of the great divide between men and women due to the fact that we are (with a few exceptions who aren't talking much) women or men, but not both at different times.  And because of this, we develop certain limited notions about what the others are like.  And some of us do worry: does the result of men and women living together have the effect of domesticating them into a female-oriented everyday life?  Would most guys go in for lace curtains, furniture that is matching, objects of arts that aren't risqué like from Pottery Barn, room scents, and toilet seat covers?  In short, what do guys do when left to themselves?

Remember that most little boys are heavily socialized by women; their mothers, daycare workers, teachers, and other women.  And, when they reach their teens, they aspire to have girlfriends, who further direct them into female-oriented interests and everyday surroundings.  For many, besides their father, the only male role model around is the ubiquitous sports coach.

I decided to discover what guys would do on their own by using my womanly wiles (however limited they are), but also by a little in-field social research.  There's a reason for the feminization of the behavioral sciences, you know. 

And I asked three reliable and candid sources: my brother Mike, my guy friend Dee-Doh, and Crazy Chester, my bookie and confidant.  To help things along, I also employed that noted truth serum, cerevesa.  Yes, I bribed them with beer!  And not Bud, I might add.

Anyway, one thing came out for sure: the guys all admitted that they would like to spend some Saturdays doing nothing, just sitting around in their underwear, watching sports on television, eating junk food, doing a little online surfing, and sleeping!  No great works, no magnificent projects.

I decided to try it one open Saturday.  I stayed in my apartment, got up at about 11 A.M., went to the fridge and drank milk out of the carton, burped, and sat around in my bra and panties, and watched the fare on ESPN.  To futher authenticate the experience, I rested my hand on my tummy under the waistband and burped!  And scratched, although I had no itches to speak of.

Since HGTV seemed to feature ex-athletes talking about sports, I gravitated to HGTV.  For viewing snack food, I ate Cheetos and drank beer.  Exhausted by my efforts at relaxing as guys do, I took a nap. 

I had an urge to telephone someone or to go to the mall; I resisted that urge.  The afternoon seemed to drag on.  Who would have thought that Saturday television was so dismal!  Almost as dismal as Sunday morning.

Ultimately, I was forced to admit that I was as bored as Hell!  I reverted back to the natural order of things, and understood why things are the way they are.  Guys need us; without us they would be bored.

Now all I have to do is convince Dee-Doh that our trips to the mall are improving him!