Recently, I was chatting with a couple friends (one male and one female), discussing a party the male friend and I had been to a few years ago when I lived in Atlanta. At said party, after male friend encouraged me to stand on top of one of the tables to get a better view of the band playing, I was quickly pegged in the face with a can of cashews. It sucked. Anyway, upon recounting this story in front of the female friend, she asked why she hadn't been invited. My male friend immediately responded, "Oh, I would never bring ladies to this sort of party." I wasn't sure if I was complimented or insulted. Then he looked at me and made a lame excuse about me being "cooler" than most girls. Later that night, I was told by a *different* male friend that, despite all of his attempts, I was impossible to gross out, unlike other girls who are squeamish and easily repulsed.
So I started thinking - men like the "cool chicks", right? Or do they? They say they do - but do they REALLY?
I’ve dated lots of “types” of guys (and I don’t mean Asians). After starting out my romantic career wasting time with the same kinds of guys, I made a conscious effort to take myself out of my comfort zone (easy, blonde haired surfer dude type) and try something different (easy, brown haired guy with no high school diploma). This inevitably led to my "Greek Period" in my mid-twenties, which was more cheerful than it sounds, but less productive because I couldn’t get behind most of their regional cuisine after spanakopita. Lamb? Can't do it.
Anyway, I took myself back to a pivotal story. I once knew a girl (she was the girlfriend of my male friend) who was absolutely ungrossoutable. It was at her apartment in college where I learned, during one of their diatribes, that men feel the vagina is the most simultaneously fascinating and terrifying organ, the Christopher Walken of genitalia.
Their relationship was one of complete openness. Comparing armpit smells, leaving the door open while peeing, and farting indiscriminately. She retold that once she rushed into his apartment, closed the door behind her, and broke a long, loud wind with an audible sigh of relief, then said, “I held that for two blocks because I thought you’d like it.”
They broke up not long after that incident. ‘That incident’, in retrospect, may have been their turning point. Because while it’s true that the guy did like it (he laughed for hours, even giggling when he told us about it), it may have subconsciously tipped his Fart/Attractiveness scale, leaving her on the wrong side of the smelly divide. Maybe if men were still cavemen he could have looked past it, even casting her quirkiness in a positive light (Heat! Fuel!) .... but soon enough he would be graduating college, going off into the real world of polo shirts and clenched butt cheeks. And she had crossed over from fun-loving to troublesome, from viable to stinky.
So how does this relate to me being "the cool chick" ?? I'm glad you asked. I've been thinking of this. As much as it may sting my poop loving soul, it probably wouldn’t hurt me to feign disgust the next time my male friends take me to a donkey sex party. A subtle “I can’t believe that midget didn’t wash his hands before serving the sangria,” should do. Just enough to say, “I’m girly enough to buy fancy underwear but I can still take a cashew tin to the face.”
In the end, I need to be sure they still know I am a GIRL.