As always, I'm on a rant. I have no filter. I pretty much say what I think. You know, damn the torpedoes, let the cat out of the bag, I'll probably regret having said that...that sort of thing.
Today's rant is about incapable women. Yup, you heard me. Women who can't do shit for themselves.
I have several favorite writing spots. I used to love writing while watching my hubby play lacrosse. Sadly, he doesn't do that much anymore, so no more eye candy inspiration for me. But there are other places where I find myself inspired. I regularly drag my computer to a local breakfast place. I like to sit and write and listen to (okay eavesdrop on) other people's conversations. I've heard some incredibly fascinating stories, a lot of which I'm sure a out-right lies. Some of them I jot down to save for later. Some make me laugh outright which usually earns me a glare or two. Thank goodness my favorite waitress often says something to the effect of "Pay no attention to her, she's an author."
Occasionally, I overhear something that makes me want to take a page out of Leroy Jethro's book and Gibbs' Slap someone. A couple weeks ago, I listen to two forty-something women bitching about their men. No big deal, we all do it. Everybody needs a person to vent to. We all have that one friend who you can whine to about the stupid shit your husband does. You know, the friend who understands that in spite of all the complaining you still love him and wouldn't trade him for anything. (Except that super hot guy sitting three tables down, or a Scotch on the rocks...but I digress.)
Back to those ladies. I have no idea they are...I never saw them before or since. Blondie was complaining that her lawyer husband refused to leave work to come and fix the flat tire on her car. What gall! I mean didn't he know that she was stranded at the mall? How could he be so insensitive???
Red responded with her own beef about having to....wait for it....use a plunger! It seems that her unruly child had flushed a massive wad of toilet paper and a hot wheels car or two.
Seriously ladies, get a grip. Stand up for yourself. So you have a flat. First of all you could try to change it yourself...although that would subject you to the objectionable risk that you might break a fingernail. Or...dig out that seven hundred dollar cell phone and call a freaking tow-truck. This isn't the end of the world. Man up and deal with it already. Don't even get me started on having to use a plunger...that's a basic life skill...like breathing. Who hasn't clogged a toilet or two? And EVERY house that has a child suffers the filth of an overflowing toilet thanks to the spawn that wanted to who what happened when two dozen building blocks went for a swim.
Perhaps my jaded view comes from the fact that over the years my husband spent weeks at a time working out of town and I dealt with everything that came up. If there was a problem I figured out how to deal with it. But then, that's how I was raised. My parents expected me to be smart enough to think a problem through and find a way to deal with it. It's fairly simple, if something needs done/fixed/removed you suck it up and give it your best shot. If that fails, you call in the reserves. You know, furnace repair guy, tow-truck, roofer. It isn't that hard. That's why there's the interweb...research it!
I admit that women don't have the physical strength that men do, but that doesn't mean we can't give it a shot. After all, we're tough enough to give birth and there isn't a man on the planet with the balls to handle that!
So suck it up princess and do it yourself!