Men Are From Fast, Women Are From Slow
[snark]
The last few days have done more to cement the notion of innate biological gender differences in my brain than the thousands of pages of academic reporting and indignant feminist responses to the same ever could.
Let's review one of these, shall we?
Time
Women clearly perceive the fourth dimension quite differently than men. We fellas realize that time is a constant drumbeat, and fill the space around us with multiple clocks, watches, and other timekeeping devices that we may never lose track of it. The surest sign of whether or not something was designed by a man or a woman is if there is a clock in it. Look at the lower righthand corner of your computer screen. If you see a clock, thank a guy. If you see a picture of a kitten nuzzling a duck, thank a woman.
Women perceive time differently, if at all. For them, time is malleable, slowing down and speeding up as their desires require. If the party starts at 7 pm sharp, rest assured that the time between 6 and 6:30 will be very malleable indeed, as the woman will promptly proceed to futz about for no good reason. To men, this is inexplicable. When you're in the fourth quarter, down by 6 points, and have the ball, you go into Hurry Up Offense----you don't take a knee and try to run out the clock. Women apparently have a different strategy in mind.
Another great place to spot the time perception gap between men and women is in the bathroom. Men's aim when entering the nasty hellhole that is a public restroom is to relieve themselves as quickly as possible and get out. For women, the restroom is apparently an extension of the larger social scene outside of it---thus the need to bring a posse with you into the john. It may not take a village to raise a child, but if you're a woman it certainly takes a village to make dookies. It's not all evacuation in there, though---I'm reliably informed that there's quite a bit of dress adjusting, makeup repair, complaining about heels, and snarking about the posse members who didn't make this trip going on as well. Time stands still in the ladies' room.
The checkout line is another reliable observation point for women's inability to sense time. I recently had the distinct pleasure of being in a blazing hurry and waiting in a cafetaria checkout line behind two women.
Each followed this checkout procedure:
1. Advance to the next position in line.
2. Ask the clerk how their day was going.
3. Tell the clerk how their day was going.
4. Repeat the amount to be tendered back to the clerk.
5. Begin rooting around in a handbag the size of a duffel bag, ostensibly looking for legal tender of some sort.
6. Apologize to the clerk.
7. Promise it will only take a minute to find their cash.
8. Find smaller purse within duffel bag.
9. Open smaller purse.
10. Remove cash.
11. Root around in smaller purse for exact change.
12. Apologize to clerk again.
13. Promise clerk they have exact change.
14. Realize they don't have exact change in smaller purse.
15. Think.
16. Remove change purse from smaller purse.
17. Root around in change purse.
18. Realize they don't have exact change in change purse either.
19. Think.
20. Root around in bottom of duffle bag.
21. Find exact change.
22. Count change twice to make sure.
23. Tell clerk they think they have exact change.
24. Receive receipt.
25. Put change purse back in smaller purse.
26. Put smaller purse back in duffel bag.
27. Close duffel bag.
28. Put duffel bag on shoulder.
29. Gather keys.
30. Gather purchased items.
31. Then, and only then, step out of the way.
By contrast, here is my procedure, typical among menfolk:
1. Advance to the next position in line, cash in hand.
2. Give $20 bill to clerk.
3. Get change and receipt.
4. Put coins and receipt in trouser pocket.
5. Gather belongings.
6. Step out of line.
7. Put bills in wallet.
What, do you ask, do I do with my coins?
I put them in a jar on my desk. When that gets full, I take it home. When I have sufficient jars, I make a single trip to the grocery store and plunk them into one of those machines that gives you cash for coins.
To me, the most compelling evidence that women simply do not understand time as men do is that they are completely oblivious to how breathtakingly rude it is to hold up a line while looking for a penny. So much for the vaunted female empathy.
Put simply, when time is of the essence, glaciers move faster than women.
Unless they're at a party and someone announces there's a cheesecake shortage imminent, that is.
[/snark]
The last few days have done more to cement the notion of innate biological gender differences in my brain than the thousands of pages of academic reporting and indignant feminist responses to the same ever could.
Let's review one of these, shall we?
Time
Women clearly perceive the fourth dimension quite differently than men. We fellas realize that time is a constant drumbeat, and fill the space around us with multiple clocks, watches, and other timekeeping devices that we may never lose track of it. The surest sign of whether or not something was designed by a man or a woman is if there is a clock in it. Look at the lower righthand corner of your computer screen. If you see a clock, thank a guy. If you see a picture of a kitten nuzzling a duck, thank a woman.
Women perceive time differently, if at all. For them, time is malleable, slowing down and speeding up as their desires require. If the party starts at 7 pm sharp, rest assured that the time between 6 and 6:30 will be very malleable indeed, as the woman will promptly proceed to futz about for no good reason. To men, this is inexplicable. When you're in the fourth quarter, down by 6 points, and have the ball, you go into Hurry Up Offense----you don't take a knee and try to run out the clock. Women apparently have a different strategy in mind.
Another great place to spot the time perception gap between men and women is in the bathroom. Men's aim when entering the nasty hellhole that is a public restroom is to relieve themselves as quickly as possible and get out. For women, the restroom is apparently an extension of the larger social scene outside of it---thus the need to bring a posse with you into the john. It may not take a village to raise a child, but if you're a woman it certainly takes a village to make dookies. It's not all evacuation in there, though---I'm reliably informed that there's quite a bit of dress adjusting, makeup repair, complaining about heels, and snarking about the posse members who didn't make this trip going on as well. Time stands still in the ladies' room.
The checkout line is another reliable observation point for women's inability to sense time. I recently had the distinct pleasure of being in a blazing hurry and waiting in a cafetaria checkout line behind two women.
Each followed this checkout procedure:
1. Advance to the next position in line.
2. Ask the clerk how their day was going.
3. Tell the clerk how their day was going.
4. Repeat the amount to be tendered back to the clerk.
5. Begin rooting around in a handbag the size of a duffel bag, ostensibly looking for legal tender of some sort.
6. Apologize to the clerk.
7. Promise it will only take a minute to find their cash.
8. Find smaller purse within duffel bag.
9. Open smaller purse.
10. Remove cash.
11. Root around in smaller purse for exact change.
12. Apologize to clerk again.
13. Promise clerk they have exact change.
14. Realize they don't have exact change in smaller purse.
15. Think.
16. Remove change purse from smaller purse.
17. Root around in change purse.
18. Realize they don't have exact change in change purse either.
19. Think.
20. Root around in bottom of duffle bag.
21. Find exact change.
22. Count change twice to make sure.
23. Tell clerk they think they have exact change.
24. Receive receipt.
25. Put change purse back in smaller purse.
26. Put smaller purse back in duffel bag.
27. Close duffel bag.
28. Put duffel bag on shoulder.
29. Gather keys.
30. Gather purchased items.
31. Then, and only then, step out of the way.
By contrast, here is my procedure, typical among menfolk:
1. Advance to the next position in line, cash in hand.
2. Give $20 bill to clerk.
3. Get change and receipt.
4. Put coins and receipt in trouser pocket.
5. Gather belongings.
6. Step out of line.
7. Put bills in wallet.
What, do you ask, do I do with my coins?
I put them in a jar on my desk. When that gets full, I take it home. When I have sufficient jars, I make a single trip to the grocery store and plunk them into one of those machines that gives you cash for coins.
To me, the most compelling evidence that women simply do not understand time as men do is that they are completely oblivious to how breathtakingly rude it is to hold up a line while looking for a penny. So much for the vaunted female empathy.
Put simply, when time is of the essence, glaciers move faster than women.
Unless they're at a party and someone announces there's a cheesecake shortage imminent, that is.
[/snark]
posted by Teflon at 10:12 AM
0 comments
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home