Ladies out there, I have no idea if you’ll read a guide on the minds of men, but here goes. I’ve been given the ol’ “Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus” book from my girlfriend. (I alone was supposed to read it mind you. The compromises for women were apparently of no use). I’ve read my fair share of Cosmo articles (again, from the girlfriend as I get too distracted by the pictures) and seen more than enough of these Dr. Phil-esk “relationship” shows. From my experience with these, which can be quite useful, some things women may not quite understand yet:
Guys usually only talk when we have something to say. Some idiots like to ramble on about anything, but your typical guy will not be doing this on a regular basis. Chances are, if we’re sitting looking at the sunset we’re not contemplating life’s higher meaning or what the future holds or anything else for that matter. I’m usually thinking, hey, that looks nice. That’s it.
2. Phone conversations
As with the point above, you know when your boyfriend/husband/whatever answers the phone? You can tell within one minute if he’s talking to his mate. It sounds like this:
“Hey man, what’s going on?”
“See you there. Bye.”
Click. The conversation is over. Time on phone, 15 seconds. I called my best-friend after my sister had a baby boy and I swear that’s all he said. I told him what had happened, that we were going to the hospital in 5 minutes, and to meet us at the front entrance at five. Believe it or not, that’s all I wanted to say, over the phone at least. This was a pretty big event, but even a trivial conversation, ON THE PHONE, should last the exact same period of time.
I know women like talking and chatting on the phone about everything or nothing. The fact that you can do this with the phone tucked under your chin and complete any number of tasks is, frankly, mind-boggling. Guys don’t do this. I can’t talk on the phone and do anything else. Can’t watch TV, can’t listen to the radio. Nada. When we’re on the phone with you, and you are telling us all about your day, what the bitch in marketing said, the latest fuck-up by the asshole your best friend is dating, or whatever the trauma of the day is, we are sitting on our asses listening. We’re not doing anything else, even though you might be completing fifty tasks in the hour-long talk we’ve done nothing, but sit and listen to you. Chances are, if we listened, we love you.
3. Sex talk
Alright, apparently you ladies are delving into positions, penis size, duration, and God knows what else when you get together for your naked pillow fight-filled sleepovers (at least let a guy dream). Yeah, when guys talk about sex, it’s like:
“Mate, I totally got laid last night”
“Wicked, with who? The hot chick from the bar/party/soc class/accounting?”
“Cool. She’s fucking hot man. Did the Pies win yesterday?”
Please note; adult guys do not generally talk about fucking their girlfriends/wives with their buddies. We don’t have conversations about sex with women we care about with other guys. Unless we’re drunk and the topic comes up, but that’s a whole other story. And if the chick was less than attractive let’s say, we’re not going to talk about it at all, other than to fend off our buddies’ various barbs.
I don’t want my buddies thinking about my girlfriend naked, having sex with me, or them for that matter. Nor my sister, nor my mum, nor my cousin, nor my neice. If my boys sleep with the slut down the street, I really don’t care. In men’s minds, women get put in two camps. Whores and angels. The whores are women we don’t love. They may even be your best-friend, but we’ll probably keep that to ourselves if we know what’s good for us. Our close friends and family are angels. They don’t have sex in our minds, not ever. Now, the woman we are in love with occupies a strange place in between. Ideally, she’s a whore in the bedroom and an angel on the street. That’s why I’m a lucky, lucky man.
Unless you’re with a professional athlete, chances are your man loves a certain sports team that no one in their right mind would pay him to play for. You might like sports too, which is wicked and in which case you can probably skip this section.
I’m getting pretty sexist here, but I can’t explain this any other way. I could not care less what pants I wear with what shirt. Or, what colour we paint the bathroom, or any room for that matter, so long as it isn’t butt fucking ugly. I don’t care about hanging up pictures, having house plants, going to the theatre, or ballet, or romantic movies.
What I do care about is football, the AFL variety. For most Queenslanders, it’s rugby league, which does get me riled up from time to time. Do us all a favour. Do not ask your man anything when Collingwood is one quarter away from winning their first flag in twenty years. I know I will never play AFL and I’ve only been to Collingowod once in my life, but I actually do care if they win. Ladies, you’ll never be a supermodel in Milan, but that doesn’t stop you from spending time and money to have the latest fashions does it? I’ve followed this team for as long as I can remember. It’s very important to me and to most guys, whether it’s Manchester United or the Dallas Cowboys, there are many variations on the same theme.
I don’t know if I can put this in a context for a woman (that doesn’t love sports) to comprehend. When you pester us at critical points like this, it’s like…. like…. like if we stood up in a movie theatre, right at the most romantic part of the movie, yelled and spit on you before storming out. Or if we worked with you for a year renovating, painting, and decorating the house then trashed the place with a sledge hammer two seconds before our house warming party. If either of these things happened to you, I apologize on behalf of my gender.
If you find yourself with something important to tell us, wait five seconds for the damn commercial break or better yet, until the game is over. It won’t kill you and it will mean more to us than cooking dinner, buying any present (short of tickets to said game), or kinky sex. Well, depending on how kinky.
5. Humour us
Remember those 4-hour phone conversations you put us through? Where you told us all about that jackass of a manager you have, how so-and-so is harassing you but we shouldn’t kick their ass or say anything? You spilled your guts out to us so you would feel better and hopefully you did, or you just pissed us both off and wasted a lot of time.
If your guy is into something, anything, try this. When you’re out at dinner or having high tea or whatever it is you do, ask him to explain something he loves to you. Say, “How do cars work? What was World War II all about? How does the internet work?” Chances are, if you hit the nail on the head, he’ll rail off numbers or facts about something for ages. Just sit back and listen. Act the way you want us to act when you’re rambling on about your feelings or whatever. Don’t let your eyes glass over or stare at our chest (probably easier for you than for us). I bet you by the time he’s done imparting what he feels to be his vast and valuable knowledge about whatever, he’ll feel like a million bucks.
Believe it or not, we’re told from the time we’re like 12 years old to ignore our feelings. You play through the pain, you don’t cry. Guys don’t talk about our feelings and sometimes we don’t feel better when we do. We need to solve problems (ours or yours) to feel better, not talk about them. I think we more than make that sacrifice by listening to all your emotional issues, so you owe us this one.
6. Staring at other women
I realize this is a serious no-no for 99.9% of women out there. It obviously does not show we care about you when we stare at another woman’s legs/breasts/ass and may feed your insecurities about what you perceive to be your short legs/small breasts/big ass. But, I am here to tell you that it doesn’t really mean ANYTHING for a guy. It’s horrible, I know, but let me explain.
I love my girlfriend, she’s beautiful and sexy. I probably see a hundred gorgeous and sexy women every day. On TV, in magazines, in ads, on the street, at work, they’re everywhere. I don’t know if it’s just me, but there are a lot of hot women out there. I don’t want to be with every hot woman I see. Do women have any idea what goes through a guy’s head when he sees a hot woman?
“Fuck, she’s hot.” That’s really about it. Maybe, “Wow, I’d like to have sex with her.” In the run of a normal day I see about 50 women in the city I’d “like” to have sex with. I’m not going to have sex with them and I couldn’t tell you tonight who any of them were today. I can tell you that my girlfriend has the most beautiful smile, really sexy, long black hair, and a sweet ass. Just thinking of her toothy grin brings a smile to my face.
Images of professional models, singers, and actresses give women body image issues. I don’t dispute this and it’s pretty awful that women think they are not hot if they are not 5’5”, or 120 pounds, or have 36-30-34 measurements. It seems kind of funny that women don’t think all these images that men see have an affect on us too. I am definitely guilty of objectifying some women, we all are. Sometimes glancing at other women is practically a reflex. Come on, you can tell when we’re definitely not looking on purpose can’t you?
If I see a gorgeous blonde, I don’t think, “Gee, that blonde’s so pretty and has a perfect body. I want to leave my girlfriend for her.” I actually think, wow, nice legs/ass/breasts. NEXT! Seriously. This is true for women I see on TV or on the street, there is no difference in my mind. My girlfriend has as much to fear from me leaving her for Britney Spears as she should for a hot woman on the street that averts my gaze for five seconds. Either way, it isn’t happening.
A caveat to this is if you’re with a sleazy guy that actually tries to talk to this woman. I haven’t been that kind of guy since college, but they’re definitely out there in all age groups. But, women (or their close friends) can usually smell sleaze, so I don’t have to lecture you about that.
If you don’t think that man looks at attractive women like that, I have a test for you. Watch your man the next time he checks out a sweet new Mustang (or Dodge Charger). From the shaker hood scoop to the fat tires and chrome rims, I eye these cars up and down like I do Sopie Monk. He will too, I bet you!
7. Men’s body image
Alright, I’m not going to claim that guys have to worry like women about our bodies. Some men do, fuck’m. I am not dumb enough to tell my girlfriend she looks fat in anything or that her hair looks bad after a haircut. But ladies, please. Do not tell your man he’s fat, if he’s fat. He knows. If he’s skinny, don’t tell him because he knows. If he’s losing his hair, he knows. Even if he’s joking about it, don’t tease him. I know a girl that joked that her boyfriend has a big beer gut, which he kind of does. But, when he joked back and said she had one she lost it, despite the fact that it was just as true for her.
That’s not cool ladies. Telling a guy he’s fat, or skinny depending on the guy, is the same as telling a woman she’s fat. Telling a guy he’s losing his hair is like telling a woman she’s fat and wrinkly and there’s no way she’ll ever look good again without surgery. Ouch, eh? Telling a guy he looks gay (unless he is gay, which I suppose is cool) is like a guy telling a girl she looks like a whore. Not generally a compliment. Going grey may be traumatic for some guys too, it’s not bugging me too much though. But hey, we’re all different.
8. Post coital bliss
I do apologize for all the times a guy has had his fun and completely spaced out or fallen asleep. It happens to the best of us. Guys aren’t like women, we were issued a single shot rifle our first day on the force. We usually do need some time to reload and may lose consciousness at this point. Now, if this happens every time, without several encores you do have a problem. But girls please, after we cum, give us five minutes to regain our senses. If we’re good to go again, fine, that’s not what I’m talking about.
“Where is this relationship going? Do you love me? Are we soul mates? What are you thinking” Seriously? Why do women ask these things after two hours of rough sex? If we’ve done things right, I can barely remember my name at this point and I’m sooooo not mentally prepared to discuss these loaded questions.
“Fuck,” that’s what I’m thinking when this happens. Not, does she love me? Not, where is this relationship going? Guys don’t generally feel like opening up at this point. I come back to the angel and the whore division within our own mind. It’s hard for us to picture romantic strolls on a sunset lit Bali beach when we just came all over your ass and watched you mop it up with your sexy red panties. Why not ask us this at a more appropriate time? Read, anytime other than the 2nd half?
All right, this is getting too long as it is. Go now, spread the word!