Male privilege is a myth. I know this because I am a man and fully aware of any and all breaks that come my way–and I can assure you that there aren’t any. I’ve worked for absolutely everything I have and I deserve it and if I’m better off than a woman maybe she should work harder to keep up.
My boss is a woman, and her boss is a woman, so you can cool that argument right now. If anything, my gender has held me back in this female-centric workplace. Eighty percent of my co-workers are ladies. I supervise a team of three women, and it’s a struggle to manage all the gossip and PMS, but I just man up and do my job. They should try that some time .
No other guys eat lunch with me, just the ladies I supervise, so I have to put up with all this vag-y stuff about reality TV and kids. Like I care. This is a hostile work environment if I’ve ever seen one. None of them will really talk to me anymore because the youngest one, a real cute girl named Tamryn, said I was looking down her shirt. And I was, but she’s the one who put that shirt on and it was hanging kind of low and god those things were beautiful. I mean, I was trying not to look too obvious about eyeballing her but whatever. It’s not like I touched her or something. I know the rules.
I’m married, and I would never disrespect my wife by getting involved with another woman. But I’m not dead, so I’m gonna look. She knows that. And she doesn’t care who pumps up the tires as long as she gets to ride the bike. If she really wanted me to keep my eyes only on her she’d do her damn hair once in a while, maybe put on some makeup. You know, get cleaned up for me. But it’s fine. She takes care of me. Hell of a cook. Hell of a mother to our kids. That stuff’s more important. In the dark, I can imagine Tamryn lying there below me, and, as long as I don’t think too hard on the droopiness I’m handling, it’s easy to lose myself in the moment. It must work for my wife, too, because she goes right to sleep when it’s over.
I’m not sure what all these girls are complaining about on Twitter and Facebook. A guy whistles at you, pinches your ass? That’s a compliment. Relax. Feel free to pinch my ass any time.
Yeah, some guys take it too far. No means no, for sure. Some men need to work on their salesmanship–get their lines in order, maybe get a few drinks in her–and she won’t say no when the time comes.
But ladies? Loosen up. Have a good time. We got birth control now, so you don’t have to hold onto your chastity like some security blanket. Just a tip to make your Friday nights a little easier. You don’t have to be such bitches.