The return of fooler fridays, part I.: the post men will hate me for…


I have a request. This is not about single women, this is about women in relationships. Can you address two things: 1. the imaginary man and 2. the apparent need for some women to be taken care of and in charge at the same time?

The imaginary man is the ‘idea’ a particular woman has in her head that she compares to the man she is with instead of taking stock of the reality of the men in existence and seeing where he falls into that realistic scale. There are standards, and then there are fantasies. There is a difference.

The second one, wanting to be spoiled and pampered but be in charge of everything too, is fascinating to me because while it may work out for some women by and large this appears to be an unreasonable if not damn near impossibility of personality deconfliction. Progressive cooperation; sure. Responsible leader; that sounds reasonable. Traditional roles (by choice) while exercising influence within that structure; seems to me that has worked for a lot of people. But pampered and babied princess that calls _all_ the shots, sets the tone and has to approve of everything (at the extreme end even taking issue with a man’s thoughts and feelings); not so much. Like not at all.

I am fully aware that you may agree, disagree or even laugh out loud at the thought that these things even exist, and that I may be ‘wrongheaded’ in my thinking about what the real issues are. Either way, I would really love to hear your views on these two things as I am in dire need of some insight about such things, and I appreciate your keen insight and frankness.

My views on these two things….


Well, frankly, I think I disagree with both of your premises.

I’ll start with “the imaginary man.”

I take issue with your suggestion that a woman “tak[e] stock of the reality of the men in existence…”

I take issue because it is an impossible thing for any woman to do. Or any person to do, for that matter.  No woman knows all of the men in existence.  You wouldn’t wife her if she did. She’d be a complete ho-bucket.

She is only capable of establishing a basis of comparison (if one takes the position that she should be acknowledging any such comparison in the first place) between you and the men she knows or has known; the men who constitute her reality.

I read the most brave and honest thing in a blog a few weeks back that said (and I’m paraphrasing, here): my reality is the only reality that is important to me (www.deathofagenius.com ).  

For instance, I happen to have three or four friendship circles that consist of unbelievably awesome men. I am enamored of my father, impressed by my employer, on good terms with all of my exes; even my preferred brand of ignorant reality television specializes in largely female villains.

So my reality is consists of “upwardly mobile” men who all have multiple degrees, are white collar in occupation,  who are quick of wit and easy of temperament, and generally speaking, of above-average height.

So, were I to “take stock of” my “reality,” which I’ve already determined is the only logical one for which I am responsible, I shouldn’t date men who are short, or who didn’t go to college, or who work on cars for a living. That would be my “reality.” Don’t expect me to congratulate a man I’m dating for not taking his socialization cues from “The Wire.” That shit’s not my reality. (Now is a good time to note that I don’t co-sign on the assignation of “realities” or any such rigid comporting to them.)

Now, if you are okay with her taking stock of her reality, and therefore, by default, going along with this idea that it is okay to compare the one you’re with to the ones you’re not, you necessarily set yourself up for the example I present. Maybe in her reality, men do all the shit you don’t.

For me, the problem isn’t some perceived incongruence between her reality and fiction.  Rather, it is what I’m picking up in your tone (correct me if I’m wrong, here), which suggests an air of, “She should be grateful for this good shit she has.”

This is bothersome because you obviously feel like you are going above and beyond, and she obviously thinks you’re a) doing what you’re supposed to be doing, or b) not doing enough. The problem isn’t with her reality’s incongruence with the world at large. The problem is her reality’s incongruence with your reality.

If this discordance manifests itself in relatively smalltime issues, this is easily rectifiable.

e.g. Where Ole Girl comes from, Dudes pay for 100% of all shared meals. Where you come from, women occasionally pick up the tab, or pick up the tab 50% of the time (As my friend “Ron,” once artfully put it: “So, I’m supposed to pay for every single meal that goes into your mouth for the rest of your life?”) This is a situation that has a solution. This is a situation that can have a reasonable middle ground.

However, if the issues are more substantial…

e.g. Ole Girl thinks it’s okay to fuck your friends as a showing of welcome, and you’d rather she didn’t—

It might be time to move on.

Okay, now to, issue #2: Being spoiled and pampered, yet desiring to run the show.

Again, I disagree with your basic premise, which, I believe, is that these two concepts are diametrically opposed.

I don’t think they are.

I think the woman who makes as large a demand as having her fully functioning adult person taken care of is entirely the type of woman who would demand that she have the final authoritative say in all matters.

I don’t find it surprising at all that a woman who expects a man to foot all of her bills and pay for all of her extravagances is unreachable when it comes to compromise; unwilling to demurrer irrespective of her faulty posture in an argument.

Here’s what I will say about the gold-digging ego-maniacal woman.  That bitch is honest.

And more of us should be like her.

Not gold-digging or ego-maniacal, but, honest about what our realities are; about what our dealbreakers and end-games are.

Because when we’re honest about these things from the gate, our separate “realities” don’t have to become a competing duality. We can both agree that I’m an ain’t-shit-bitch with a tragically over-inflated estimation of self and am deluded in my thinking that I am different from everyone else in the world who has to actually work for a living. We don’t have to fight over me being a harpy shrew intent on emasculating the very heart of you til your friends and the people who knew you when once you were great are entirely incapable of regarding you as anything more than a giant puss.

And then we can move together in cohesive unity.

As an aside—

(And please note, that I don’t subscribe to the “men ain’t shit” school of thought. I have zero complaints in the boy department. At least, no complaints that I can’t work with. Most of the men I deal with meet my standards with relative ease. This may or may not be due to the fact that I have low standards.)

Something I do concede to thinking, while addressing these remarks:

Everywhere women turn, some man is telling us to be more “realistic” in our thinking. Men are telling us to adjust our standards so that they might more easily mirror the manner of man that is truly out there.

Women are expected to modify their standards to accommodate this not-clearly-defined gray area of “what’s truly out there.”

I’ve already addressed our inability to properly assess “what’s truly out there.”

Here’s what I’m thinking, though.

Women constantly make amendments to accommodate what we believe men want. Constantly.

Women nip and tuck their bodies. Get bigger breasts, get bigger asses. We put hair in our heads, we wax it off our vags. We shut the fuck up during the game, we don’t call you a crybabyassbitch when you KNOW you deserve it. We show a willingness to step it up in some attempt to meet man-kind’s exacting  physical standards, and most of us work so we can go half on whatever we intend to build together.

If my law firm expects me to bill 2100 hrs a year, I don’t think to myself, “That’s some ole bullshit. Booboo’s firm only requires 1800 hrs a year. Shit, most firms only require 1800 hrs a year. I’ma talk to the Partners about how this shit they want isn’t realistic. Fuck this.”

I deal. This is where I choose to work. Its high hash-marks are my new reality.

If men live in a world where women have ridiculously high standards, then maybe ridiculouslyhighstandardville is your new reality.

Maybe it’s time for men to start stepping it up, no matter how unattainable the goal. Maybe men should stop focusing on how crazy our standards are, and just start focusing.

Unless she’s a total assbag. Then, treat her as you will.



6 Responses to “The return of fooler fridays, part I.: the post men will hate me for…”

  1. 1 8isgr8
    July 23, 2010 at 9:19 pm


    I swear, reading this blog feels like going to church.

  2. 2 poyesha
    July 23, 2010 at 9:42 pm

    Well said.

  3. July 23, 2010 at 11:22 pm

    Gospel. I agree with the men that you should shut the fuck up during the game, but they should too.

    I’ve had men talk my ear off or invite me to watch so we can get our own play in, then get made to feel like the “crybabyassbitch(es)” that they are when I get mad that they just made me miss the first down. Yes. To quote Diddy (and I NEVER do but he’s pretty relevant in this situation), it’s some “bitchassedness” when you fuck with my sports.

    On the other hand, while I enjoyed when you said that if she’s a total assbag, “treat her as you will,” how about just leave her alone? Men love some drama don’t they? As much as they say we do, they stay with these women that they find to be too demanding, creepers who search through their phones looking for new numbers, or in need of being babied while always having the final say.

  4. July 24, 2010 at 12:10 am

    Girl. <— said in that "black girl with fervent tone"…tone.
    I'ma check back & see if some fella comes along to "prove you wrong" *rolling my eyes*

  5. July 24, 2010 at 6:44 pm


    Only suck ass dudes will hate you for this.

    Your foreshadowing needs more people.

  6. 6 Donn
    November 5, 2010 at 7:40 pm

    A lot of men might hate this. Real ones won’t.

    Get what you want, guys, drop what you don’t. If you don’t want all of it, and can’t get the parts you do want while tossing the rest…move on. The world doesn’t owe it to you. And the sea is full of fish.

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