"Dave Barry's Complete Guide To Guys"
Excerpt from Chapter 4 - "Tips for Women"
A guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He
asks her out to a movie; she accepts. They have a pretty good
time. A few nights later, he asks her out to dinner, and again
they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly,
and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought
occurs to Elaine and, without really thinking, she says it aloud:
"Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each
other for exactly six months?"
And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like
a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Gosh, I wonder if
it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined
by our relationship. Maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into
some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Wow, six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But hey, I'm not so sure I want this
kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more
space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us
to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward.... I mean,
where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other
at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward
children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level
of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: So that means it was ... let's see ...
February when we started going out, which was right after I had
the car at the dealer's, which means ... lemme check the odometer
... Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here!
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face.
Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from
our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment. Maybe he has
sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations.
Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything
about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the
transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still
not shifting right. And they'd better not try to blame it on the
cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out,
and this thing is shifting like a crummy garbage truck, and I
paid those incompetent thieves $600!
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him.
I'd be angry, too. Oh, I feel so guilty, putting him through this,
but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day
warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs!
And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting
for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting
right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being
with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to care
about me, a person who is in pain because of my self-centered,
schoolgirl, romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll
give them a warranty! I'll take their warranty and stick it....
"Roger," Elaine says aloud.
"What?" says Roger, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says,
her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never
have said ... Oh, I feel so...." She breaks down sobbing.
"What?" says Roger.
"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know
there's no knight; I really know that. It's silly. There's no
knight and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Roger.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine asks.
"No!" says Roger. He's glad he finally knows the
correct answer.
"It's just that ... that ... I need some more time,"
Elaine says.
There is a long pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can,
tries to come up with a safe response. Finally, he comes up with
one that he thinks might work.
"Yes," he says.
Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand. "Oh Roger, do
you really feel that way?" she asks.
"What way?" asks Roger.
"That way, about time," says Elaine.
"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."
Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing
him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially
if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.
"Thank you, Roger," she says.
"Thank you," says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted,
tortured soul, and weeps until dawn. Roger, in the meantime, gets
back to his place, opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and
immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match
between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in
the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was
going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure that there
is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's
better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's policy
regarding world hunger.)
The next day, Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps
two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight
hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she
said and everything he said, going over it time and time again,
exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning,
considering every possible ramification. They will continue to
discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never
reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with
it, either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing squash one day with Elaine's
brother, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Bill,
did Elaine ever own a horse?"
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