Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Something Else I May Be Able to Exploit
Still nursing the aforementioned fat purple ankle, and still stunned at the extreme reaction it garnered at the wedding.
Groomsmen. Swarming.
They attended to my every ice, water, and vodka/cranberry need. One even brought me a backup vodka/cranberry. Another, when I mentioned my sadness at being unable to dance any more, literally picked me up and carried me onto the dance floor, heroically bouncing around to simulate... dancing, I guess. Yet another wheeled me back to my room on a luggage cart.
Yes. I rode on a luggage cart.
I truly had no idea about the potential impact of the Damsel in Distress. I'm not really the Damsel in Distress type. I carry my own suitcase. When I get pulled over, I can't ever manage to cry until after I see the cost of the ticket, and I will mangle the lid on a pickle jar beyond recognition before I will ask for help in opening it.
But this was kind of fun. Can I file this away and exploit it later? Or did it only work because I actually needed the help, and so accepting it did not make me feel dirty and weak? Or perhaps I was dirty and weak, but too drunk on vodka/cranberry to remember. Hm. ¶ 11:22 PM
Still nursing the aforementioned fat purple ankle, and still stunned at the extreme reaction it garnered at the wedding.
Groomsmen. Swarming.
They attended to my every ice, water, and vodka/cranberry need. One even brought me a backup vodka/cranberry. Another, when I mentioned my sadness at being unable to dance any more, literally picked me up and carried me onto the dance floor, heroically bouncing around to simulate... dancing, I guess. Yet another wheeled me back to my room on a luggage cart.
Yes. I rode on a luggage cart.
I truly had no idea about the potential impact of the Damsel in Distress. I'm not really the Damsel in Distress type. I carry my own suitcase. When I get pulled over, I can't ever manage to cry until after I see the cost of the ticket, and I will mangle the lid on a pickle jar beyond recognition before I will ask for help in opening it.
But this was kind of fun. Can I file this away and exploit it later? Or did it only work because I actually needed the help, and so accepting it did not make me feel dirty and weak? Or perhaps I was dirty and weak, but too drunk on vodka/cranberry to remember. Hm. ¶ 11:22 PM
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Oh Sweetie......you have *so* much to learn. ;-)
There is no reason you should feel dirty and weak for allowing a man to do things for you. They like it. You are doing them a favor by asking them to open the pickle jar because it allows them to feel manly and helpful. Now that we don't live in caves and hunt sabor-tooth tigers for dinner, men have limited chances to be protective and manly. Letting them fight the pickle jar is a kindness, really.
I don't think any man really wants a woman who couldn't take care of herself, but at the same time, they like to feel important and protective. You are really being benevolent when you allow them to do things for you, not weak.
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There is no reason you should feel dirty and weak for allowing a man to do things for you. They like it. You are doing them a favor by asking them to open the pickle jar because it allows them to feel manly and helpful. Now that we don't live in caves and hunt sabor-tooth tigers for dinner, men have limited chances to be protective and manly. Letting them fight the pickle jar is a kindness, really.
I don't think any man really wants a woman who couldn't take care of herself, but at the same time, they like to feel important and protective. You are really being benevolent when you allow them to do things for you, not weak.
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