Thread: The difference between men and women (long)

The Difference Between Men and Women

Let's say a guy named Mike is attracted to a woman named Lisa. He asks
her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few
nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves.

They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one
of them is seeing anybody else. And then, one evening when they're
driving home, a thought occurs to Lisa, and, without really thinking,
she says it aloud: "Do you realise that, as of tonight, we've been
seeing each other for exactly six months?" And then there is silence in
the car.

To Lisa, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Jeez,
I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling
confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him
into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.

And Mike is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Lisa is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of
relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd
have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way
we are, moving steadily toward... I mean, where are we going? Are we
just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we
heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am
I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?

And Mike is thinking: ...so that means it was... let's see... February
when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the
dealer's, which means... lemme check the odometer... Whoa! I am way
overdue for an oil change here.

And Lisa is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm
reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our
relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed - even
before I sensed it - that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet
that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own
feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.

And Mike is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission
again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting
right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this
time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting
like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

And Lisa is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry,
too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the
way I feel. I'm just not sure.

And Mike is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day
warranty... scumballs.

And Lisa is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a
knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next
to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I
truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person
who is in pain because of my self-centred, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

And Mike is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a
warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their...

"Mike," Lisa says aloud.
"What?" says Mike, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning
to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have... Oh God, I feel so..."
(She breaks down, sobbing.)
"What?" says Mike.
"I'm such a fool," Lisa sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I
really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Mike.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Lisa says.
"No!" says Mike, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that... it's that I... I need some time," Lisa says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Mike, thinking as fast as he can,
tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that
he thinks might work) "Yes," he says.
(Lisa, deeply moved, touches his hand.) "Oh, Mike, do you really feel
that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Mike.
"That way about time," says Lisa.
"Oh," says Mike. "Yes."
(Lisa turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to
become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it
involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, Mike," she says."
"Thank you," says Mike.

Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured
soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Mike gets back to his place, he
opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply
involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he
never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him
that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is
pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he
figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.

The next day Lisa will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them,
and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In
painstaking detail, they will analyse everything she said and everything
he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word,
expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every
possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off
and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions,
but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Mike, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend
of his and Lisa's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:
"Norm, did Lisa ever own a horse?"

And that's the difference between men and women