Contrary to popular belief, the male population of the world is not made up of mindless slaves to the Penile Hivemind. It is made up of thinking slaves, each with his pluses and minuses, his powers and inabilities, his drawbacks and assets. And if it sometimes seems as if the bad outweighs the good, you can chalk it up to the fact that one of the chief functions of the Y chromosome is to bring those drawbacks to light. That’s what the Y chromosome does. It throws a banana peel beneath the wingtips of Mr. Wonderful. It makes Prince Charming take a chest-first pratfall. It puts the ass in asset.
This is why even the best men in the world will sometimes open their mouths and utter something so ridiculous that it will make an atheist look to heaven and mutter “Jesus Christ!” under his breath. For instance: no matter how much he hates sports, and no matter how soulfully he’s looking into your eyes as you describe the agony you went through trying to decide whether to pay your rent or buy those gorgeous Tootsi Plohounds, there will always come a point where your perfect non-jock mate will turn to the nearest TV set and yell: “How the fuck did the Celtics get to be one point up? They were losing by ten five minutes ago!”
This is not just about what happens when you put guys and TV sets in the same room with you. This is about what happens when there’s a guy around, period. You can have his absolute total attention and never realize he’s been staring at your best friend’s ass all night until he says, “Listen, can I borrow a quarter? I want to see if I can bounce it off Mandy’s butt and hit the ceiling fan.” Every guy in the world will say that at some point. Just like every guy in the world will say: “I’m easy!” or “I’m not that complicated!” or “You know, if you were single . . .”
EVERY WOMAN IN THE WORLD: [Looking to heaven] Jesus Christ!
ME: Sorry; did I hit a nerve?
EVERY WOMAN IN THE WORLD: I hate it when guys say that! It’s like we have no choice at all.
EVERY GUY IN THE WORLD: [Hello?] You don’t. You’re either taken or untaken.
EVERY WOMAN IN THE WORLD: And if we’re untaken, what makes you think we’ll look twice at anybody who says, “You know, if you were untaken, you’d be sitting on my lap in a heartbeat.”
EVERY GUY IN THE WORLD: [Mildly insulted] Not in a heartbeat. After like dinner and drinks.
EVERY WOMAN IN THE WORLD: Sorry, cowboy. This is one heifer you’re not going to lasso without a fight.
EVERY GUY IN THE WORLD: [Totally insulted] We don’t want to rope you like a heifer. We want to ride you like a bronco.
EVERY WOMAN IN THE WORLD: [looking to the sky] Jesus Christ!
This kind of guy is called The Wishful Thinker, and if you’re searching for evidence of the Penile Hivemind in action, look no further, because there is a piece of this guy in every male on Planet Earth. As a public service, here are a few of his most common remarks, followed by the perfect comebacks which you always kick yourself for thinking of two days later while you’re on the phone with Mandy telling her about that quarter remark:
HIM: I’m easy.
YOU: Ch-huh. Like differential calculus.
HIM: I’m not that complicated.
YOU: And I’m not that dumb.
HIM: You don’t need an owner’s manual when it comes to me.
YOU: No –- you need a warranty.
HIM: You know, if I wasn’t married, . . .
YOU: I still wouldn’t look twice at you.
HIM: You know, if I was even ten years younger, . . .
YOU: I would still be twenty years older than you emotionally.
HIM: You know, if I ever turned on the juice, you would light up like a Christmas tree.
YOU: The only juice you’ve got in you is prune.
HIM: You know, if you were single, . . .
YOU: I wouldn’t be sitting here listening to you -- I’d be out playing the field.
HIM: No –- seriously –- I’d be all over you.
YOU: Like a comforter or a net?
HIM: I’m telling you –- it wouldn’t take much.
YOU: And yet there’s so little of it in you.
HIM: You know you’d fall for me in a heartbeat.
YOU: The only way you’d get my heart is if I had a cardiectomy.
HIM: [looking to the sky] Jesus Christ!
So be nice to that poor guy who thinks that just because he drinks a Stella, that makes him Marlon Brando in Streetcar. Every now and then his inner idiot will pop out of the Carlsbad Cavern he calls home, like Punxsatawney Phil in search of his shadow. When he does, just give him a verbal whack to the head, and he’ll duck back into his cave like the good little Neanderthal he is, leaving you to enjoy the company of the tender, civilized, thoughtful male he leaves behind. Just remember the words of Jimmy Stewart in Philadelphia Story: “With the rich and the mighty, always a little patience.” Or in your case: “With a boy over 14, always a little patience.”
And never forget -– when it comes to chromosomes? Y is not just the question -– it’s also the answer.