This Guy Stuff is Hard

My son’s 8^th grade class is getting ready for their trip to Washington D.C.  This is an annual thing for the 8^th graders, and it’s a big deal.  The school has been doing it for years, and almost all of the kids come back with fantastic stories.  Of course as you can imagine it’s a bit of a logistical nightmare as there are close to 100 13-year olds, many of whom have never been more than a few miles from home without their parents, traveling around D.C. seeing everything from the Lincoln Memorial to the Ford Theatre to the Smithsonian and even the White House.  A small army of volunteer parents help coordinate the trip as well as chaperone the whole thing.  Frankly, it sounds just awful to me.  If my choices were to help lead a group of 100 8^th graders around D.C. for a weekend or spend the weekend being waterboarded, I would choose waterboarding.

But my neighbor is one of those people acting as a chaperone for the weekend, and he’s been filling me in on some of the behind-the-scenes work that he and his fellow volunteers have been doing for the past few months.  And I guess one of the biggest headaches is pairing the kids up so that they have roommates.  It seems that there are A LOT of girls who simply cannot room with one another because though they were best pals yesterday, today they can’t stand one another.  Yes, I think there are a few boys who also made a big deal about roommates, but I guess it was a bit out of control on the girl’s side.  At one point my neighbor said, “Just be happy you aren’t a girl.”

And that comment hit me.  I mean that’s certainly not the first time someone has said that to me, but why is it so tough to be a girl?  Seriously.  You think it’s easy being a guy?  Let me tell you there’s NOTHING easy about being a guy.  Hell, it can be downright humiliating.

We’ve got to make up names for engine parts simply because we’re supposed to know what’s going on under the hood of our cars.

If we cry, we’re a wimp.  If we don’t cry, we’re insensitive jerks.

If we put a woman on a pedestal, and try to protect her from the “rat race,” we’re called male chauvinists.  If we stay home and do the housework, we’re sissies . . . and I speak with a great deal of experience on this one, so just trust me here.

If we mention how nice our wives look, we’re accused of having ulterior motives, or worse yet they call us liars.  Of course, it’s called male indifference if we don’t compliment our wives at all.  And try complimenting a female co-worker . . . that’s called sexual harassment.

If we appreciate the female body, and we like looking at it in sexy lingerie we’re probably called perverts.  If we don’t like the female body . . . well, we’re gay.

Buy her flowers . . . again we’re “after something.”  Don’t buy her flowers, and we’re not thoughtful.

If we want sex too often, we’re oversexed.  Don’t want it enough, there must be someone else.

We have to like pro football.  Oh sure, we can hate hockey, and we can find baseball too boring, and we can probably get away with  not camping, and we can even call a handyman every time the toilet is plugged  up, but we have to like pro football, and that’s just not fair.  Women don’t have to like high heels, push-up bras, lingerie, or make-up.  Hell, women don’t have to like babies!!!  But WE HAVE TO LIKE FOOTBALL.

Happy wife . . . happy life.  Unhappy wife . . . stone-cold misery for the rest of your life.

Need I say more?

But I think the biggest issue with being a guy is making friends with other guys.

It’s not easy, and it can be as embarrassing as trying to convince your wife that “this has never happened before.”

Women make new friends all the time.  And that’s because women are always doing stuff that requires large groups.  They get drinks.  They have book clubs.  They go out to nice restaurants.  They shop.  They get their nails done.

Men hardly do anything.  Okay we golf, but quite often you only need one other guy for that, and since NO MAN can golf without betting, typically one of you is pissed by the 5^th hole, and usually not a single word is spoken on the back nine.  I actually played golf once with three other guys, and one of them LITERALLY WALKED OFF THE COURSE on the 13^th hole.  He was just done.

Even if you run into another guy at a party, strike up a conversation with him, and realize that this guy has exactly the same interests as you do, what do you do next??  We’re guys.  We don’t have playdates.  We don’t meet up for coffee.  No one hands out business cards anymore (not that you would ask for one).  So at best you get the guy’s cell number so that you at least have the option of sending him a text.  But what do you say in that text?  “Hey, it’s Clay from the party last weekend.  If you ever want to go get a drink or grab dinner and NOT have sex with me, give me a call sometime.”  I don’t think so.  It’s not that easy.

My neighbor and I meet up for breakfast occasionally, and other guys who have run into us at the breakfast place make fun of us since we’re just having breakfast together as opposed to having a “breakfast meeting,” which is apparently the only acceptable reason for two-unrelated men to get together.  And another friend and I occasionally go out to dinner and even a movie together, and our wives make fun of us by calling our get-togethers “date nights.”  Seriously you can’t win.

Listen, I know men don’t need friends like women do.  When women have a problem or just want to chat, they talk to their friends.  When men have a problem, we solve it.  Or we simply ignore the problem, and hope that a woman will fix it . . . or maybe that’s just me.  Whatever.

We do things alone.  We deer hunt.  We play on-line poker.  We watch porn.  We could spend a week alone in the woods and be perfectly happy . . . or again maybe that’s just me.

But still we need guy friends, because guy friends are great.  Fun stuff happens when a group of guys go out.  Shenanigans ensue.  Road trips happen.  Or at least it does in Hollywood “buddy flicks.”  Without guy friends we basically become video game-playing, internet-surfing, sports-watching homebodies, and that’s not good.  Again I speak from experience here.  Sure, when we go out with pals there’s a chance we’ll end up in a Mexican prison, but at least we’d have a story to tell.

So stop with the “it’s hard to be a girl” stuff.  Yeah, I know junior high girls can be self-centered, hormonal messes.  I am thankful that I don’t have one – I can see the household discord already.  But being a guy is no walk in the park.  Or maybe that’s just me.