Saturday, January 30, 2016

Handing Over Your Manhood

Video over at Buzzfeed re: what it's like when you hold your girlfriend's purse.

Or, as you've surely already learned in my one-day-to-be bestselling novel which you can buy FOR JUST FUCKING $2.99 ALREADY!!!!!, "surrendering your manhood:

“I shop like I’m running into a burning building to save my porn stash, in and out.  But she’s gonna want me to try on everything in the freaking store.”
“Fee stor Rats!”
“Exactly.  And there’s no way she’s gonna see all those shiny, new clothes and not wanna try some on herself, right?  Even the crap she has NO intention of buying she’ll still wanna try on!  We’re gonna be in there all day.”
“But I’ll tell you what the WORST thing is, lil’ buddy.”
Chuck was pointing at a dog walking by.
“Hey!  Are you even listening to me?”
I almost caught his sippy cup before it hit the ground, but bobbled it.
“The worst part is that, unbelievably, during all this trying crap on, guess who has to hold her freaking purse?”
“You’re darn right it’s Rats,” I smacked the table with my palm.  “’Just for one second!’ she’ll say.”
“Wha second Rats!”
“You’re know it’s never just for one second, lil’ buddy,” I agreed.  “And of course this is the moment your old high school football coach decides to stroll through the middle of freaking Daffy’s in Midtown Manhattan for no particular reason.  He sees you standing there holding a girl’s handbag, and just says ‘I knew it.’  Man.  Brutal.”
Chuck gave a blank, but knowing stare.
“You know what I’m saying, lil’ buddy,” I was shaking my head.  Looking across the park, I could see Criss paying for her coffee.  “And you know what the topper is, lil’ buddy?”
“I’ll tell you what I-“
“Rats! Rats!”
“Dude, shut it.  I’m trying to teach you something here, for chrissakes.  As I was saying, the more you get asked to do the hold-my-purse routine, the less likely it is you’ll ever have sex with that woman.  Know what I mean?”
Being a good sidekick, he gave me an empathetic look.
“It’s never the husbands, or boyfriends, or ‘friends with benefits’ that do this crap, right?  But guess who does?”
“You got that right it’s Rats!”  I smacked my hand on the table again in total victory, had total victory meant declaring another reason why I never got laid.  “I’m telling you, lil’ buddy, if a girl is into you, you can tell her to get the heck away when she tries handing you a handbag.  Hey, she’s lucky you even came along in the first place.  It’s only the pining, pathetic dudes dumb enough to say ‘oh yeah, of course I’ll go shopping with you!’ that end up standing there holding the purse like an idiot.  Then she goes home and bangs her man all night while you’re making mix tapes for her that she’ll never listen to.  Believe me, lil’ buddy, that’s how this little dance works.  Suckers.”
“Rats!  Suckasrats!”
I stood up, pacing in front of him.
“I’m just saying, lil’ buddy.  When you grow up and find yourself in a store with a girl who wants you to hold a bag and you do it, you have ceased being a man to her.”

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