The difference between Men and Women......
Let's say 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.
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:
Jeez, 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 want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. 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 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 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. 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.
Scumbags!
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 truly care about me. A person who is in pain
because of my self-centered, school girl 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 right up their...
"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... Oh God, 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 says.
"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that... it's that I... I need some time," Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second 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 says.
"What way?" says 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 gets back to his place, he 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 there is no way he would ever understand what, and so
he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.
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 racquetball one day with a mutual friend of
his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say, "Norm, did
Elaine ever own a horse?"
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the difference between men and women!
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