We live in an age of absolute gender equality. We know this because wimmin are constantly telling us, unless it suits them to forget it now and again. Then they demurely flutter their lovely lashes, and play what’s known as The ‘Little Woman’ Card. It goes, as they say, something like this;
I’m sitting in my armchair enjoying a glass of wine. Suddenly there’s a horrendous shriek from upstairs, followed by the pounding of the wife’s footsteps down the stairs and into the living room.
Me; ‘Goodness dear, sounds as though you’re having a heart attack’
Her; (breathless, wide-eyed panic) ‘There’s a spider in the bath!’
Me; ‘Well get rid of it’
Her; ‘You know I hate them. Please get rid of it, I’m dying for a pee!’
Me; You can handle it, my sweet. You’re a modern, independent, strong-minded woman. Sisters doin’ it for themselves, and that’
Her; (plaintive whine) ‘But…but… it’s HUGE!’ (sidles on to arm of chair) ‘Please!’
Me; ‘What’s in it for me?’
Her; ‘Erm, I’ll get you more wine’
Me; (lascivious leer) ‘I’m thinking of something a bit more…energetic. You’re always saying I need more exercise’
Her; ‘You cad! And I thought I’d married a gentleman! Is that all you think about?’
Me; ‘Well, there’s Villa, and rock ‘n roll as well, but they’re second and third. Anyway, I thought wimmin considered “gentlemanly” behaviour to be an affront’
Her;’ Well I don’t. Pleeease dear’ (nuzzles in and giggles) ‘I’ll make it up to you later. Promise’
Me; ‘ You sure will. All right’ (hand to forehead) ‘I *ah-em* may be gone some time’
So off I go, expecting to be confronted by a killer the size of a fucking plate, only to encounter a heart-rending spectacle. There he is, all of half an inch across, pathetically struggling to climb up the side of the bath, only to slide down again. Out into the garden the poor little sod goes.
Me; ‘It’s a good job your big, strong husband was here to deal with it, dear. It could have had your arm off’
Her; (sticks out tongue and thumbs nose) ‘You’re an absolute beast!’
Me; ‘True my flower, and you’ll be very pleased about it later’
So once more I was played by the Little Woman Card, as I’m sure all you guys have been, many times. She wants her stuff out of the loft, but has suddenly developed a mysterious ailment that prevents her climbing the ladder. You get dragged around the shops while she tries and buys things (‘I’ve got absolutely nothing for the holiday!’) and then find that somehow, you’re left carrying half a dozen bags. Etc, etc.
That’s the thing, though. I’d actually go through fire for her, and she knows it. But just remember guys; next time you’re called upon to deal with a tarantula in the bath, make sure there’s something in it for you too. This is indeed the age of equality, so it’s time to start playing the ‘Bloke’ Card.
Nominated by Ron Knee
