So, I think it is often asked—by guys of girls—what do women really want? I think there are as many answers to this question as there are women (typically my answer), however, I think there are some commonalities.
The past few weeks have treated me to a reminder on several occasions. Starting with Saturday morning brunch at a diner (overheard at the “office”) where I was treated to the in between seat at breakfast during a conversation between two guy buddies—one with a girlfriend—about a new woman showing up at their job who was rumored to be “wild” and “hard to handle” and “bound to be a handful” and how the single guy “couldn’t wait” for her to get to town. Nice.
Then there was the guy behind me at the turn onto the U.S. Highway who had a three year old meltdown (viewed by me through my rear view mirror) when I didn’t turn on the red fast enough to suit him. There were kids in the back seat and an older woman sitting next to him. I admit, I’m not much of a driver and I tend to run to the cautious side when I do drive. Sheesh.
And the two guys in a compact SUV who cut me off on the Interstate, in a construction zone, nearly causing an accident. And they laughed.
Commonality: no women anywhere.
It always amazes me how guys (that’s guys) are so impressed with how cool they are when they are acting out and convinced that this is hugely attractive to women. I think it is a stimulus-response thing, where bouncing around like a baby monkey with a rubber butt probably got them something (sex) at one time and now they are convinced it is the way to go.
How about some manners? It’s true, I’ve seen some girls (that’s girls) laugh at men for being mannerly, but not often, and not too many women who are over 20. So, I guess if guys (that’s guys) really want teenage girls (which I’ve been told they really really do, really really) then I guess they are doing the right thing.
Me, I’ll take a man, who let’s someone in on the freeway, has patience with the person at the light (they are the ones with the decent view, right?) and who refrains from planning gang rapes in public over his morning pancakes.
I guess I’m just weird that way. Oh, and to the guy who tried to take a picture up my skirt, choke on polished cotton.