I know the myth is that men want: Traci Lords in the bedroom, Julia Child in the kitchen, Hazel around the house, Lesley Visser during a game, Mary Poppins for the children, Cha Cha Muldowney in traffic, Dr. Quinn, Medicine Chick when we’re sick, Mary Richards at work, Mother Theresa when we come home with leprosy, Gertrude Stein in conversation, the body of Sophia Loren in ‘Boy on a Dolphin’ combined with the voice of Sade, and to top it all off, the IQ of Anna Nicole Smith, because of course we don’t want to feel too threatened. So if that’s the myth of what we want, what’s the reality?
Well, first put that Cosmo article down right now and back slowly away from the magazine. Now go to the window and take a deep breath. You must clear your head of bullshit articles like “How to Trick Your Man into Cooking Tex-Mex”. Trick me?
How about asking me? And then I’ll be able to tell you I don’t have a fucking clue what Tex-Mex is, okay?! All right, I’m not supposed to do this. I’m not supposed to
reveal the master list to all you non-tripods, but what the hell; here goes.
Here’s what men want from women. One through Ten:
- We want you to understand that we don’t give a shit about clothes, all right? Yours OR ours. All we need is one pair of tennies and one pair of church shoes. That’s it.
- Don’t talk to us while the television is on, all right? Very simple. Television is off, we talk. Television is on, we don’t talk.
- When you’re behind the wheel of a car, if you want to get aggressive, that’s fine, but don’t give somebody the finger and expect me to defend your honor when Steroid Lad comes over swinging a pair of nunchucks, all right?
- Would it kill you to watch ‘The Godfather’ with me for the fifty-seventh time?
- Hey I’m sorry, but some of us see a beautiful sunset and think, “You know, I betcha my accountant is boning me up the ass.”
- You go see Nell by yourself, all right? I met enough chicks like that at “The Drink” when I was single.
- Have a sense of humor. Without a sense of humor, a relationship lasts about as long David Duke at a Black Panther meeting.
- Work out your job-related anger before we have sex. Just because Helmut, the office boy, brought you the cup of lima bean consomme instead of the bowl of lima bean consomme from Soup Plantation, I don’t want to end up in the friction burn groin ward at Cedars-Sinai, all right?
- Don’t ask us to cry. As much as you say you want us to cry, you don’t really want us to cry. You hate it when we cry. I’ve tried crying in front of my wife. She enjoyed it for about thirty seconds and then started thinking, “Why in the fuck did I marry this hamster?
- Be patient. Hold us. Love us unconditionally. Help us out of this testosterone-induced fog we dwell in and lead us into the light. Or if that’s asking too much, how’s about a big sloppy blowjob once in a while?