I’m going to bitch. Shocking and horrifying I know. However, I’m not going to bitch about what I normally bitch about, so maybe that’s a good thing. My bitching is also gonna sound extremely sexist. If you don’t know me, you’ll probably think horrible things—that’s okay, go ahead. If you do, you know that I have more extremely close girl friends than most guys (gay or straight), girls who aren’t just fag-hags. Actually, I don’t have any girlfriends that would qualify as fag hags. Dang it! I need to get one or two of those.
Disclaimer: Most of the strongest people I have met have been women. Most of the amazing men I know are amazing because of astounding mothers (myself included).
That being said, there is one type of woman who drives me absolutely batty, the kind that makes me what to find an all male club that doesn’t let any women be members. Hmmm, an all male naked club would be even better. Wait a minute. . . I think I know what those are called…
Disclaimer the Sequel: There are many types of men that drive me crazy. The arrogant asshole. The perpetual child. The one who knows all.
There is really only one type of woman that drives me crazy.
The Talker.
I love people who talk, as I prefer not to. talkers are great. However, there are talkers and then there are Talkers.
This woman (and really they mostly are women, although there is one man that comes to my mind who fits into this category perfect, and gets me even more frustrated that the women) doesn’t simply talk because she loves the sound of her own voice, she talks because it’s a compulsion, an addiction, as needed as breathing. She will speak to anything that moves, literally, and do so incessantly. It won’t matter if she’s spoken for three hours straight, she will still not be done. It won’t mater what subject is brought up, she will have the ultimate knowledge of that topic—if she doesn’t, she will continue to vomit from the mouth, even if it has nothing to do with the situation at hand. Instead of taking a moment to think through her question or statement, she will spew forth her torrent of words, her mind not catching up to her exhalations until well after the fact, if ever.
There is a woman like this that I am with every day. It is like having six other children to my roster. By the end of the day, I quit literally am trembling and need to be something without sound to decompress. In a classroom filled with young men with horrific women and mother issues, this is often a huge problem. The nagging and constant verbiage is wearing and emasculating to all of us. (Watch out, random and irreverent scripture usage.) “Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife.” Proverbs 25:24--NIV. So flipping true.
There is a mother that calls me at least once a day, often more. She will leave ten minute voicemails. Repeating the same sentence or situation in at least twenty different ways, to the point where I want to bash the phone into my brain to stop the onslaught. Now, when I hear her voice, I just hit delete. You want to rip your skin off to escape.
Both will ask the most inane question an exorbitant amount of times—so completely incapable of facing a situation on their own or trying to use any logic or common sense.
There has not been one ounce of exaggeration here. I swear it. In fact, I’ve held my tongue in many ways.
The funny part? Where do I go to get sanity when there is nowhere else to go? (Well, yes, the bathroom. Whoever invented bathroom stalls is a saint—they are miniature little versions of Heaven.) That’s right, I go to women. It’s funny, they always know when they see me coming. They will often just say: Need some sanity? And I will nod. They use their God-given strength, courage, and humor that is so common in the female species, but so difficult to cultivate if not there naturally, and make it possible for me to work with my children the rest of the day, or return a phone call that will leave me feeling like a piñata.
To those women, and those mothers alike out there, thank you for providing sanity to the men and boys around you. Thank you for sharing your strength, humor, and clarity with all of us weak and easily beaten down men. You rock!
Black Coffee Tables
9 years ago
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