Dear Engyne Woman:
It’s with much hesitation that I bring up this topic, as it will no doubt result in countless instances of the very situations that I seek to minimize.
But here it goes:
For the love of all things Jesus-like and nailed to a cross, will you please never, not once ever, say “I’m fine.”
I mean, it’s okay to say “I’m fine” if you actually are fine, but we all know that you, Engyne Woman, are never actually “fine.”
Something bothers you, and instead of dismissing that thing that bothers you or confronting the parties to whatever slight it was that is consuming your psyche, you do nothing, all in the name of “not causing a stir.”
Will there be some hurt feelings and awkward conversations resulting in your attempts at clearing the air? Absolutely. But that’s a helluva lot better than the strained relationships, broken friendships, and midnight cry-fests that accompany “I’m fine.”
I’ve seen it. I know. You can’t put anything past me. But please try, it’s sexy.
You’re not fine. Fix it.
I know that we in the patriarchal power structure of the western world have raised generation after generation of women to be conciliatory, deferential, and “nice.” And if you weren’t “nice” you were a “bitch.”
Fortunately, in the 21st century we let women wear dungarees now. They’re also allowed to hold real jobs and generally speaking be a productive member of society, instead of merely a live-in nanny, maid, and comfort woman for cigar-chomping, overly pomaded, faded Lotharios in grey flannel suits and with expanding waistlines.
And I for one like a bitch. I like an assertive, confident, direct, woman. I don’t mean those petty, catty, incoherent, pablum-spewing, tna-bots on legs in hot pants and tank tops passing for women that populate pretty much the entirety of VH1. They aren’t confident; their actual bitchiness hides insecurities revolving around a lack of real lasting skills and a limited shelf life on the few skills they do have, mostly fucking, flirting, and wearing bikinis. They’re actual Bitches, the kind one only fucks out of spite. I’m talking about a real woman with skills, ambition, opinions, and isn’t afraid to ruffle feathers. And has an ass that won’t quit, but that’s just gravy.
But with ambition and success comes conflict and chaos. That’s okay. It’s a good thing. It means you have something more to your life than misgivings and petty disagreements. With this territory comes a crisis of ability: with so many conflicts adding up, you can no longer afford to dismiss and then dwell. You have to either dismiss completely or confront. Decide it’s not important, or take the offender to task. You’ll be more productive, happier, healthier, and way sexier. I promise.
And if you do follow through and stop declaring yourselves “fine,” I promise that I (speaking solely for myself but hopefully for successful, erudite men as a whole) will stop asking “What’s wrong?”
Agreed? Good.
Sincerely,
Your most ardent admirer.
Tags: advice, culture, funny, gender dynamics, opinion
