Eating Cake

Some of you have recently discovered that I don't so much care for cake. I'm sorry if this upsets you. I do enjoy a good cheesecake every now and then. Sometimes a torte. And I'm semi-fond of angel food cake. I must admit "regular" cake is not so much my thing. But I have been thinking recently about the eating of cake.

And when I say that I have been thinking about the eating of cake what I am actually referring to is the metaphorical having and eating of cake. I mean to say that I have been thinking about having cake and eating cake in a metaphoric sense.

I am being vague. I know this. Say no more. I will explain.

Once upon a time I was "progressive" thinking. I say "progressive" but what I actually mean is "different" and by putting "progressive" in quotes I am attempting to be humorous or ironic or something else.

Uh...where was I. Oh yes. I shudder to admit that I once scoffed at the man holding a door open for me or the one willing to give me his seat on a bus. I saw no reason why women should not have to register for selective service. I refused to let a man I was dating pay for dinner.

I think I was wrong. No. I don't think. I know I was wrong. I've known this for some time, but I'm somewhat of a procrastinator so I'm really just now getting around to formulating these thoughts in print for your reading pleasure.

And I know that in this moment feminists everywhere are falling over dead. Okay. I'm exaggerating. But seriously. Some women may say that I have lost my grip on feminism. Maybe that's true. I would like to think that as a former women studies major in college I have not. But college was a long time ago. And as I have gotten older I have realized that I want cake. And looking at it isn't enough.

Being a feminist isn't a crime although it can feel that way. I think the reason for this is simple. There are a number of wack jobs out there that give the rest of us a bad name. There are women who date and simultanteously hate men. Those that blame every male on the planet for patriarchy. There are women who believe that the pyramid should be flipped and men placed under the heel of our collective boots.

But they still date and fuck men. And this I will not ever understand. I am perfectly willing to accept that some women believe that all men are the root of every bit of evil in the world. I cannot say that I agree, but I consider myself fairly tolerant and if you believe this more power to you. HOWEVER if you are going to FUCK MEN and let men FUCK YOU IN RETURN then you absolutely cannot believe that men are the problem without being an absolute moron and a raging hypocrite.

These women need medication. And any man who agrees with such a philosophy is simply trying to get laid by as many women as humanly possible in his lifetime. This isn't feminism. Feminism is very simple. It's about equality. Boot kissing is not equality. End of story.

All of this brings me back to my current state of being. For I have digressed once again. This is not a rant about women who hate/fuck men. This is about something different.

I have now come to believe that women have missed the boat. We -- being the collective we -- want this equality thing -- whatever that is -- so badly that we give up what I will refer to as social pleasantries.

And then we don't even get the equality anyway. Not really. So we're double screwed.

I live in Seattle now. I didn't always. I say this because things are different here. Men are different here. They're not as aggressive as the men on the east coast. Maybe they have less testosterone. Perhaps it's nurture and not nature. I don't really know. But I can tell you that most men in this general area are considerably more shy and sensitive and so on and so forth.

They are also seemingly more "progressive" which means that they will let you struggle with your hands full and not make any attempt to help you with a door. They won't hold the elevator for you if you're running. You will almost never get one of them to give up their seat on the bus.

It's different. I do not believe that it's better or worse, merely different. And here's the one thing that's going to go over wonderfully with all of you. I believe women are at least in part to blame. And you should know that I originally typed the previous sentence to read "I believe women are to blame" but it even disturbed me so I added the "at least in part" so that I would not spontaneously combust.

Waitwaitwait! Before you attempt to stone me to death you should at least hear me out. Women overall refuse these social pleasantries from men. I observe this numerous times per day. We refuse the open door. We decline the seat on the bus offered to us. We arm wrestle with men and the winner gets the privilege of paying for dinner. We do these things so often that men don't know what to do anymore. They are confused in part because we have confused them. So they let us stand on the bus. They permit us to pay for dinner. And I suppose this means that we've achieved equality. As long as equality equates to tired legs and a less substantial bank account.

We as women need to accept the fact that these small things do not equate us with being weak and ineffectual. It isn't easy to permit someone to do something nice for you. And I can not help but wonder why some of us still fight so hard against such things. In short, permitting a man to pay for dinner or taking his seat on the bus doesn't make him a filthy patriarch who wants to slap that bitch up.

I am not immune to this disease. In fact you should know that I absolutely refused to let the man I am exclusively dating pick up the check for dinner this weekend. I insisted that we split the bill. He gave me that look that he gives when I'm being difficult. He tried to fight me on the issue, but he didn't fight me too hard because he knows how stubborn I am and that I will win. And in an interesting twist when our cards were returned he discovered that they ran my card twice instead of running both cards.

Until the "pollo asado incident" I had been working on this post for some time. I was unable to finish it. When I was informed of the card error I realized this may very well be the universe poking fun at my continuing inability to permit anyone to do anything nice for me.

"Fine. We'll show her," said the Universe. I chuckled while my dining companion signed his name or mine name or someone's name to the receipt and thanked me for dinner. In this moment I that these ideas required posting and it needed to be soon if I am ever to end this madness.

For those of us afflicted I cannot say that it will be easy to develop a cure overnight. I know that I am often far too independent for my own good. And this doesn't mean that I think I or anyone else should swing the pendulum in the opposite direction and merely take what can be taken. But I can say that from this point forward if a man offers me his seat on a bus I'm going to sit my tired ass down and graciously thank him. No political analysis required.

Maybe then we can begin to make some real and significant change regarding the gender related problems that both men and women face in our current society.