It’s our IT guy’s last day, which isn’t what I want to write about today, but led to an exchange which I feel is worth discussing nonetheless.
So my boss ordered Mexican for the “Last Lunch”, which is a lot like the “Last Supper” except Dan Brown won’t deconstruct it in a major novel and through the Christian faithful into a tizzy.) Which is, we can all agree, a good thing. The non-tizzy part, that is.) We’ve got tacos, burritos, quesadillas, hell, I think the “Yo Quiero Taco Bell” dog might pop out of a cake. Who knows? She orders the food on Wednesday, and on Thursday, calls me into her office, frantic.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Well, I’m freakin’ out, ‘cuz I can’t find any cheap sombreros for us to wear, and I can’t find any themed decorations, and do you have any Mexican music in your CD collection, and…”
Finally I stopped her and said, “Look, you’ve gotta realize: you’re throwing a party for a guy. You’ve provided food. You’re 99.4% of the way there already.”
She looked at me like I had nine heads. Couldn’t believe this was true, even if intellectually she realized her efforts were indeed above and beyond the call. She finally acquiesced. Still, it was amusing to me in the way that so many things women do for the sake of each other that men never, ever notice does. And if you’re wondering how I gonna plug the logic hole by which I can see things that no man can see, well, keep wondering. Have fun with that.
On the heels of that, turns out I (along with about 984 other blogs) are now linked on a blog dedicated to Manolo shoes. (Get it? “On the heels...”? Man, I rock harder than Dökken. Seriously.) The Girl, of course, naturally freaks out about this development, saying, and I quote, “…if there's any chance of free shoes for me I give you permission to sleep with whomever to make that possible.” This coming from the girl for whom a hallmark of our relationship consists of her having ridiculously painful shoes on at the most inopportune times. Which always prompts this discussion:
Me: Why do you wear shoes that hurt so much?
Her: Well, they look good.
So for the benefit of all womankind, let me impart the wisdom I impart upon The Girl each and every time this happens: except for those with foot fetishes, we never, ever, ever, ever look at your feet. Just doesn’t happen. 90% of guys operate on the FBB mentality: face, boobs, butt. That’s about it. A guy might be an FBB, a BFB, or a BBF, but he’s some combo. Of course, you’re always gonna run into the occasional FBL (face, boobs, legs) or the even rarer PEK (patella, elbow, kidney), but let’s not deal with these cases for now.
However, I realize that, despite this formulation, having Manolo shoes, or nice shoes in general, is important. It’s just completely unimportant to men. Moreover, it’s taken time for me to realize that women aren’t doing it for men anyways. So here’s the part where I ask the guys to prick up their ears, because most women know what I’m about to say: 90% of what they do to look good is for the benefit of other women. The other 10% is for you to go, “You look pretty.” And they value that 10%, no doubt, and so keep saying it, especially if you want to see unclothed BBs.
The Girl insists that Manolo shoes are so desired because they cost so much, but I’d argue that they cost so much because they are so desired. Manolo shoes don’t exist to attract men so much as repel other women. Repel them into inferiority. I used to think women were just working too damn hard to impress men until the day I realize my male brethren and I were so far on the periphery of these actions as to be non-existent. Sorry, guys, but this stuff’s got nothing to do with us.
Shoes, makeup, clothes…guys, you have to get over yourselves and realize that these industries thrive not because women want to impress us, but because they generally want to destroy the spirit of their fellow women. Just the way it goes. And getting you to notice them in these ensembles is by and large a way to flaunt to other women that you, as a barely-drooling Homo sapien with a penis, want them more than any other girl. And no, I’m not making a blanket judgment on this…(OK, by and large I am, but I’m going to the extreme here to illustrate something that is by and large a truth.) It’s not all power struggles between women in a never-ending catfight that might take down Western civilization in the process.
It only seems that way most of the time.
Women, keep doing that “constantly snipe and try to one-up your fellow woman” thing. Lord knows it comes off so well on “Real World/Road Rules Battle of the Sexes” (just ask the Sports Guy) and “The Apprentice”. Just know that occasionally we guys occasionally get some metaphorical shrapnel lodged in our bodies when caught near an explosion, even though there's no need for all this fighting anyways. You women are by and large much smarter and capable than men, because social evolution has led us to the point where you won’t let men do anything. All we have to do at this point in history is open the occasional jar to fulfill our social worth.
You need not fight amongst yourselves…you’ve already won. Save the money on ridiculous shoes, makeup, jewelry, and whatever this season’s fashion trends dictate. Wear a dress twice. Honestly, we don’t remember the last time you wore it. All this money is going to waste. C’mon, group hug, everyone. That money could be used towards so many things.
Like buying your man a really sweet plasma-screen TV. I mean, THAT is truly important. Shoes? Bah. 5.1 surround sound? NOW we’re truly talking about what matters in this life.
Posted by Ryan McGee at November 12, 2004 10:14 AM