Thoughts Of An Impotent Man

         You know, I think I’m a pretty good guy. I don’t swear. I don’t drink. I’ve never beaten the wife or yelled at the kids. I’ve been very diplomatic about how things go around the house. I mean…I put the toilet seat back down. I let my son watch that stupid wrestling crap when Monday night football is on. I let my daughter listen to that N’SYNC garbage when we’re driving in the minivan. I share household chores with the Missis, even though she hasn’t worked in fifteen years. She quit working when we had our daughter, little Mindy. Well, she isn’t that little anymore. In fact, she’s quite the young lady now. Which, I became painfully aware of the other day.
          See, I was on my way to the grocery store when she stops me in the doorway. Daddy, she says, I need you to pick me up some maxi pads. Jesus Christ, I yell. Aren’t you supposed to be talking to your Mom about that? Well, I ain’t talking to anyone about it. I’m just asking you to pick me up a personal item from the store, she says as a matter of factly. Like what she just asked me to pick up was a quart of milk.
          When I was coming up, my father never had to pick up womanly products. And he had a wife and three daughters. Now that I think about it, he never had to go to the market. That was my Mom’s job. Back then, a man’s and a woman’s roles were clearly defined. (He does his Tarzan impression) Man hungry. Woman cook. Man watch T.V. Woman watch kids. Man want nookie, woman give it up. Then man turned over and went to sleep and woman…(pauses in contemplation)…did what ever women did back then after they had sex.
          And while we are on the topic of having sex, why aren’t women faking orgasms anymore? Sex was definitely much more efficient when they were. I mean, you could get in at 8:15 and be out by 8:30. You huffed. She puffed. She screamed. You oouueed. Then bam it was over. No muss. No fuss. But now ah’ days, sex is an all day event. In fact, sex isn’t sex at all to a woman. It is the culmination of some splendid day spent with the one they love. It took me ten years of marriage to figure that one out. See, foreplay for a woman, doesn’t start in the bedroom. It starts at the beginning of the day with a compliment like, you wearing the shit outta that dress, right before she leaves the house. It continues with you holding her hand as you two frolic through the park. Then it carries over to the mall where you have to humor her with every dress she tries on. No honey, that dress does not make your butt look big, and even if it did, which I am not saying it does, you would make big butts fashionable in that dress. (he gives the psychiatrist a knowing wink) It took me three years to figure that one out.
         You know, where you tell ‘em what they want to hear, even if it’s a lie. Because you and I know, women want an honest man that knows how to lie to make them feel better about themselves. So you lie to ‘em about sex, their weight, their hair, how dinner tasted. The list goes on and on. But we can talk about that at another session. So where was I? (snaps his fingers) Oh yeah, sex being an all day event. So after you lie to them at the mall, then you gotta talk to them over dinner, and cuddle up with them at the movies. And by the end of the day, if you have been successful at making them feel like they’re the center of your universe, then you may get lucky. That is, if you aren’t too tired from the days courtship. I mean, I have to have an I.V of Gatorade in my arm and a weeks worth of energy drinks just to be able to do the dirty lil deed with my wife on the weekends. And this, Doc, in my humble opinion is because of Oprah Winfrey..
          Yeah, that’s right, I blame Oprah for the modern American man’s plight. She is the woman’s answer to testosterone. She fills women’s heads with this women’s lib nonsense. Telling women they deserve men’s respect, and affection. That’s why you gotta bunch of women running around saying, what about me? What about my feelings? In today’s world, my mother and three sisters would have been on Oprah’s talk show whining about how my father didn’t buy them sanitary napkins.(Shakes his head and laughs) God I can just see how that would play out.
They’d be crying and hugging each other and talking as if him not buying them their womanly essentials is the reason why they can’t have a meaningful relationship with a man. See, that’s what Oprah has women believing that all their problems are because of some man. She gets these women all in ah frenzy over some guy who watches sports while having sex. Then Oprah, being the demagogue that she is, talks of how she cut off Stedmans’ supply of coochie until he stopped treating her like ah sex object. And of course, a nation full of angry, sexually frustrated, S.U.V driving, Marlboro smoking women, hears this crap and it sets off an estrogen time bomb inside of them. They decide they aren’t gonna fake another orgasm. From now on, we want sweet love and affection, they say, sounding like a bad love song.
         And once women start calling it love and not sex, men get confused. Sex and emotions is like oil and water to men, they don’t mix. Hell, we get emotional about football and cars, we have sex. Women start talking about emotions and then the next thing they’ll do is start asking questions, like it’s some sort of test. Questions like how do we feel when we’re having sex. What do we think about while we’re having sex. And it makes it hard for a man to perform under that kinda pressure. And that’s when it happens. ( he slaps his hands together) We can’t get it up!
          Which in turn, creates a whole set of new problems. Because now men don’t feel like men. They start doing stuff that is outta character, like sitting down on the toilet when they gotta take a whiz and going to the market to get their daughter’s maxi pads. I’m telling you Doc, it’s all a conspiracy for women to take over the world. But we can talk about that at another session.