On Memorial day weekend. Sarah Palin stormed into DC on the back of a Harley, with Rolling Thunder -- the motorcycle tribute for troops who were killed in a war. Just FYI, she could still be heard above the roar of the cycles, but no one cared what she said. It was a Sarah, get over yourself, moment. But that’s not what I wanted to blob about.
This is a question that needs to be pondered, so don’t answer right away. When we got on the plane for Sacramento, (we’re on our way to a wedding in Sonoma), I took the window seat. My legs are short, so I am less likely to feel squished, regardless of leg room. My legs were crossed at the ankle, in order to maximize space, and I tried to get comfortable.
It was at this point (as my mother would have said, I was trying to find a place for myself), when I looked over and noticed that David was sitting with his legs apart and pretty stretched out. So I asked him, “why is it that men always have to sit with their legs like that?” He feigned ignorance, but I continued. “With their legs taking up not only their seat, but mine and the one next to them on the other side.”
He looked down, and sure enough, he saw – maybe for the first time in his entire life, that he was as spread-eagle as a person could be and still be in a sitting position. “I don’t know, maybe it’s to prevent genital compression.” He said it like ‘gential compression’ was an actual disease or syndrome.
I couldn’t stop. “This male positioning, is especially irritating, when you get on a crowded subway and there is tuchas room for three but because some guy refuses to have his knees touching, unless you leap over him, there is only leg room for two. “There’s noe much we can do about it”, he said wanting to be asleep.
“I’m not sure that’s true” I responded. “When women sit on the subway they sit with their legs crossed at the ankles or the knee. For the most part and regardless of size, they take up only the space they require. I counted today and if there are only men on one side, there is room for six. But if there are women, you can fit eight.”
“Women don’t like to be touched by strangers. They sit small because they don’t want to be touched”.
“No, they sit small because the guy next to them has his legs spread, the same distance as Pittsburgh to Chicago.”
There are many other things that men do that women find irritating, but with the invention of the GPS, not asking for directions when they are lost has gone the way of the electric typewriter. Oh, except now you have to listen to some annoying voice give you instructions that will take you the shortest route, but not necessarily the fastest. So yes, you can wind up on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere hoping that someone will notice you are missing before you starve to death.
And why does that voice have to be female. Oh, you can choose the accent, but there is no choice bout gender. It is always a woman determining which way you should go, and talking to you like you are an idiot when you decide, that “she” has no idea what’s going on. “She” is, after all, merely a voice spewing directions that some guy programmed into the system without asking directions.
But probably the most outrageous manipulation is what I call the “is there any…?” beginning of a sentence, they use repeatedly. Here’s an example. A male and female are sitting at the table having lunch. The male will turn to the females and say, “Hon, is there any salt or it could be pepper, water, bread, milk, shaving cream?” Nine out of Ten times the female immediately jumps up to check. If you are a woman, you know what is wrong with this picture. If you are male, you are thinking, “Of course I’m going to ask if I don’t know?” Getting up to see for himself, is never an option.
Women are not perfect, but given the choice, if you needed something. Who would you ask that you knew you could depend on… We’re Just Sayin” Iris