Earlier today, I was enjoying a lazy Saturday at Borders bookstore in Northridge, doing what I normally do there -- looking through the latest sports-related novels and trying to see if there are any new "Harry Potter-like" book series -- when I overheard two college girls having the following conversation:
Girl 1: So last night, I finally heard from him.
Girl 2: What, he called?
G1: No, he texted.
G2: Texted?
G1: Texted.
G2: Well, what did he text?
G1: Yo.
G2: Yo?
G1: Yo.
G2: Whoa.
G1: Yeah, that's all he wrote. I mean, what's that about?
G2: Did you write him back?
G1: Well, I waited two hours, but yeah I did. I wrote him back hello.
G2: And then what?
G1: He wrote back what's up.
G2: And what did you say?
G1: I said nothing. So then he asks me if I want to hang out.
G2: Oh my God!! Seriously?
G1: Seriously.
G2: That's so weird. You don't hear from him for all this time, and now all of a sudden he comes out of nowhere. So weird.
G1: So weird.
Not weird.
Understand something about texting: It was created by a guy. Texting, without question, is the best thing that could've happened to men on the dating scene, and the worst thing that could've happened to women. Texting singlehandedly changed the power structure of the whole dating dynamic. Before, women had the power. It was the guy who had to put himself out there: to make that phone call, to seem witty and charming and cool and manly, all while he's quietly freaking out inside that the girl is going to reject him.
But then texting came onto the scene and everything changed. Suddenly, guys didn't have to call. Hell, guys didn't even have to e-mail!! All they had to do was be given the ability to type words into a phone and press send, and suddenly they're in control.
I mean, take the following common scenario:
Guy goes out with girl, guy has sex with girl, guy doesn't call girl for days, guy decides he wants to have sex with girl again but in order to do he needs to make contact with the girl and risk facing her wrath.
What does guy do?
Well in the olden days -- aka the 1990s -- the guy would have to call the girl on the phone. And this gave the girl all sorts of power. And she knew it too. See when a guy calls, he needs to do something difficult for him:
Talk.
This is difficult, particularly in the scenario previously mentioned above. See here, a guy needs to put himself out there. He needs to make himself vulnerable. He needs to think quickly on his feet. These are all things he's bad at, and women know this. They're the ones in control.
But when you involve texting, suddenly everything changes. The guy doesn't need to call. He doesn't need to talk. He doesn't need to put himself out there. He doesn't need to do anything!! Just text!! He doesn't have to worry about rejection or thinking on his feet. If the girl doesn't respond, no worries. If she does respond, then he's over the biggest hurdle. It's win-win for the guy.
And lose-lose for the woman. For now she's on the defensive. She's confused, unsure, no longer holding the cards. She's wondering what's going on in his head, not the other way around. And suddenly, the guy is now the one with the power.
So back to the bookstore. When I overheard this conversation between the two college girls, I went up to the first one -- the one who received the text -- and asked her if she wouldn't mind hearing a little perspective from a married guy (by the way: one thing I've discovered about being married is that it automatically gives you legitimacy with other women. If they see the ring on your finger, they trust you immediately because they figure you're mature enough to be with just one woman and they assume you're not trying to have sex with them, because if you were, you'd take the ring off before you talked to them).
I talk to this girl about her situation, explaining how the use of texting favors the guy. I broke down how this was putting her on the defensive and even gave her some insight as to what this guy may be thinking. I gave her some helpful hints on how she could combat this and assured her that there wasn't anything wrong with her and that true love and happiness with somebody did exist, whether it was with this particular guy or not.
You know what she said?
Well, the thing is that he's a Scorpio and I'm an Aquarius. And that's the worst possible match you can have. But the thing is, I have a Leo moon. So that changes things.
Uh-huh.
And with that, the shift in power from woman to man is complete.
:-)
And now for this week's:
SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE
This is either totally disturbing or totally brilliant, depending on your view.
The Olde Salty restaurant in Carolina Beach, North Carolina, is banning screaming babies from its facility.
“Screaming Children Will NOT Be Tolerated!” say placards posted at the restaurant. And while the signs may seem to be telling some parents their patronage is unwelcome, restaurant owner Brenda Armes said it’s actually been a business boon.
“It has been a good thing for us,” Armes told NBC affiliate WECT. “It has brought in more customers than it has ever kept away.”
Of course it has.
No publicity is bad publicity, after all.
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7 comments:
Oh my God this is so true! When guys text me it drives me crazy! I have no idea whatsoever what the guy is thinking. It so pisses me off. Guys never call anymore. It's ridiculous.
If I first start seeing a guy, I don't answer his texts. If a guy wants to see me, I make him call me. I'm worth it.
That's why Anna never gets any dates.
LOL this is so true. I never really thought about it this way until you mentioned it, but you're right. Texting is ruining things for us girls.
Leo moon? Crock of shit.
Guys who text and don't call have no balls
Hooray for the restaurant owner with the sign banning screaming kids. When my kids were little we usually went to kid-friendly family places like Chucky Cheese or McDonalds so it would be okay to make noise. If we were at a different kind of restaurant and they screamed or got fussy we took them outside. It's called manners. It's too bad a sign has to go up, but right on, I say! Anyone ever heard of babysitters?
From a grumbly old fogie.
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