What do you think of this? Romance at the Airport

[John D Harris]

Ahh the foolishness of youth, obviously this poor misguided young man needs some propper training and guidence from an OLD COOT. Now to fully apreciate the wisdom and rightness of this advice a couple of 3 givens must be accepted as absolut undeniable truths.
1) Testosterone is a memory inhibitor.
2) Estrogen is a memory inhancer.
3) There are no scienific studies to back these claims, because:
A)Any testosterone producing researcher would have forgoten what he was researching half way through the research, or as soon as somebody in personal hired and new young estrogen producing secretary with the most amazing (insert physical attribute of choice here).
B)Any estrogen producing researcher would have realized the futility of researching such and obvious fact.

Let's step through the magic door and view our foolish young romantic and his bride a few years down the road:

It's a Saturday, a normal Saturday to him, but to his bride it is "X" aniverisary, (where "X" equals the sum their birth years mutiplied by the number of dates they went on before he succumded to her estrongen producing wiles and uttered the immortal words "I Love you" divided by the number of years they have been married).
He awakes it's Saturday he's going to play golf with his buddies from work, he rushes into the kitchen and makes coffee. She lays inbed thinking ahhh how sweet he's going to make me coffee and maybe breafast in bed for "X" aniversiary. He glances at the clock realises (threw in a differant spelling to keep you on your toes) he's running late for his golf game, and dashes off the get a shower. She thinks hmmmm, maybe he's just making me coffee and then he's going to take me to that new Bohemian breakfast bestro(sp?) She talked about wanting to try out, yes that what he's going to do for "X", she closes her eyes and dozes back off secure in his romantic nature. He half drys off, quickly dresses in his golf outfit, plaid pants and striped shirt, hurried kisses his dozing bride's cheek, mummbles something about links and dashes off the play golf. She catches a glimce of him hurring out the door but dismisses it as a really strange part of her dream, after all he would never dress like to take her to the Bohemian breakfast bestro. She comes fully awake as she hears the garage door open and the car leave, with a puzzled look on her face she figures he's just rushing to the store for something and will be right back, yes he did say something about links so he must have forgotten to but some sausage. Time passes she gets up and realizes he has not returned, worriedly she get up to see if he's being quite and going to suprise her for "X". She passes the hall closet, which he left wide open in his dash to make his tee time, She sees his golf clubs are gone! Why he's forgotten completely about "X". Hurt and disapointed in he's loss of romance she calls up 23.5 friends. They all meet at the mall, for lunch, and a little justified testosterone producing bashing. After plying themselves with drinks over lunch She and her friends decide, they can't be to angery after all they're just Testosterone producers, and beside they left the credit cards in the mad dash to play golf, so they ladies go shopping. She buys something expensive at Victoria's Secret that makes her fell good and accentuates her (incert physical attribute of choice here). She returns home to find him drinking a beer, and cleaning his golf clubs. He glances up "Hi hon, what's for dinner". No Happy "X" not even a how was your day. Angrily she throws the Victoria's Secret bag at him, and mummbles something about "a cold day in Hale, before you see this". She leaves him standing there holding his puttter (that's a golf club, get your mind out of the gutter) wondering what the Hale just happened! After all he's just a testostorone producer.


Now if he would have followed the advice of an OLD COOT, let's setp back through the magic door:
It's a Saturday, a normal Saturday for him. But for his bride it is "X" aniversiary (Where "X" equals the sum of their birth years multiplied by the number dates they went on before he mummbled yeah me too. Divided by the number months it took before she got him to quit leaving the tolet seat up, since she succumbed to all the alcoholic drinks he plied her with and accepted his invite to "get in the truck")
He awakes and makes coffee, she thinks well at least he's not wearing those ratty old underwear the has holes in them, that she threw away 3 times.
He realizes he's late for golf dashes off to get a shower, instead just applies a couple extra coats of deoderant saving enough time for him to practice on the putting green. Quickly he puts on his golf outfit, plaid pants and a striped shirt, kisses her bye and dashes out to play golf. She breathes a sigh of relief that he didn't say "Hey Honey come here and look at this" when he came out of the bathroom. Shakes her head and laughs out load thanking God she's not going to be seen with him in public in that outfit he left in. She rises and pours herself a cup of coffee injoying the peace and quite, refecting on the progress of her handiwork, no pull my fingers in months, only the ocassional deep full-force belch. Why she's even gotten him to stop his preaning in front of the mirror in his underwear and socks, grabbing his package and saying (incert favorite testosterone saying here). Her peace and quite is interupted by a friend who's romantic husband has just left to play golf and forgotten some silly aniverisary. She goes to the mall and has lunch and drinks on the so-called romantic's credit card. Listens along with the other 22.5 friends complain. Orders another drink and thinks to herself, Hale they are just testosterone producers they only have somuch romance in them and you ladies guys peaked to soon Mine is still on the way up, smiles and takes another drink.
She goes shopping after lunch with the ladies, but doesn't buy anything knowing her guy is not refined enough yet to do anything but rip any physical attribute inhancing outfit off muttering something about gett'n neck-ed. Besides she knows that if she doesn't buy anything now in a couple of months she have saved enough to drop the well timed hints and get him to buy her some jewlery instead of some outfit he'll just fling aside. She returns home to find him drinking a beer scratching and cussing at the TV. He glances up "I got something for you". Her heart sinks, OH NO a day with the boys has set him back month maybe years. He point to the kitchen table there are some grocery store flowers sitting there, that he picked up just incase he forgot something. At least the flowers are an improvment over "Hey pull my finger", she's making progess. As she walks by he swats her rear "OOOwwe babybaby", hey there is ONLY so much you can do with a testosterone producer.

Advice don't peak too soon there is only so much romance in a guy's bones and if you let it all out too early she won't have any reason to stick arround because you are showing NO progress in becoming civilized. And frankly she's the only one that would put up with your crap besides your mother... and we don't want to go there.

[ 12-18-2003, 09:36 PM: Message edited by: John D Harris ]