What does she really mean when she says …?

Men often hear what we want to hear. It gets us into trouble. My interpretation skills have been honed by the numerous misunderstandings I’ve encountered. Today, I can usually find the true meaning between the words women speak. When I misinterpret, I simply add the mistake to lessons learned, wipe the wine from my face, and trudge forward.

For example, when a woman says, “Nothing’s wrong,” something most definitely is wrong and the man shall pay. The foolish man hears her words and assumes he has a pass. Silly boy.

“Are you sure, honey?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So, you won’t mind if I stay for one more beer?”

“No, not at all. Take your time and have fun with the boys, sweetie.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? I have plenty to do around here.”

“You’re the best. Hey, don’t bother waiting up for me. I know how you need your sleep.”

“Oh, so you plan on being home late?”

“Gee, I don’t know. I just don’t want you to wait up.”

“OK, that’s fine.”

“Thanks, honey. You’re the best.”

“No problem.”

*click*

That man thinks he’s sailing the glassy seas on The Love Boat, but he’s really up Shit’s Creek rowing with teaspoons in a slowly deflating inner tube.

After he hangs up, he returns to his pack of wild apes and proudly proclaims he has the coolest wife ever.

“She trusts me.”

“Wow. She didn’t give you any attitude at all?”

“Nope. She said to stay out as late as I want.”

“Interesting.”

“What? You think she’s just saying that?”

“It’s possible.”

“Hm. Maybe I should call her back.”

Mr. Oblivious heads back outside and redials the wife. The call goes straight to voicemail because the wife is now on the phone with her BFF.

“He what?”

“I know. I deal with assholes all day at work and all I want to do is come home and unwind with a glass of wine and conversation. Instead, I find his cereal bowl on the table, his muddy shoes on the carpet, and a half-drank beer sitting next to the coaster on my antique end table.”

“Oy.”

“Then, he has the nerve to call me after I’m halfway through making a casserole to say he went to happy hour with the guys.”

“I have a chilled bottle of La Crema begging us to drink it.”

“Ugh, I’m so mad at him.”

“You don’t think he’s fooling around with someone at work, do you?”

“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me to find out they’re at Hooters or a titty bar.”

“See? This is why I stay single. When I need a man, I do what it takes, get what I need, and pat his fanny as I escort him out of my life.”

“I’m probably overreacting. Fuck it. Bring that bottle over. Let’s get buzzed and watch some trash TV.”

“Excellent.”

“When dickhead gets home I’m totally going to play dead and not let him touch me.”

“That’s what he deserves.”

The man is under such a self-delusion that he probably won’t realize his misdeed until the wife brings it up three months later as part of a new argument. Ah, love.

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About the author

Author of humorous essays about relationships and lifestyles.
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