Why do women always want to go out?
Dear Dale:
I’m a homebody. I like reading, watching movies and listening to music, all in the comfort and convenience of my house.
But my girlfriend isn’t. She likes to go out, to restaurants, museums and festivals. Anywhere, in fact, where there’s lots of people, food and drink are super expensive and you have to stand in line to go to the bathroom.
Why do women always want to go out and how can I get her to understand how much I hate it?
Signed,
Home sweet home
Dear HSH:
Tell me about it. Made the mistake of going to a festival once. Some chick I was banging wanted to go. Figured it would be fun. Food, booze, live music… worst comes to worst, I could just get wasted and puke on her shoes.
The first hint that things might not be as sweet as I expected was at the door. They actually charged admission. Five bucks!
Well, I thought, the band better be kick-ass.
But there wasn’t one. Just a stage, where one amateur hula troupe after another — all of them seniors, most of them overweight — went up and did the same dance over and over again.
I’ve never been a big fan of hula and, by the end, flat out hated it. To this day, I can’t go to a Hawaiian restaurant: as soon as I hear the sound of a ukulele, I see an old woman slowly shaking her fat and it totally puts me off. I used to love loco moco. Now I can’t even look at it. Same thing with Hawaiian pizza.
And it wasn’t even a real festival. Just a gigantic flea market. With the usual hand-made hippie-dippy shit. Jewelry that supposedly cures cancer. Bulky, misshapen cups that spill herbal tea into your lap. And heavy, itchy sweaters with hundreds of loose threads that torture you with their tips.
You know, the sort of crap your flaky niece gives you for Christmas. Instead of real presents, like baseball tickets or booze.
Or would, if she still spoke to you. Had a falling out with mine years ago. Just because I hit on one of her friends.
(So much for free love.)
Naturally, the chick I was with loved it. Was happier than a pig in shit. Kept running from booth to booth saying: “Look at this. Isn’t it cute? Let’s buy it.”
When really, it’s just a bunch of overpriced crap that takes up space, collects dust and needs to be cleaned.
But I’m a trooper. So I tried to make the best of it by searching for a head shop.
(Only good thing about hippies: they like to get high.)
Thought maybe I’d find some guy with a joint, we’d talk about Bob Marley a bit and he’d get me high. To make things bearable.
But no: because it was an all-ages event, head shops were banned. There wasn’t a pipe or bong anywhere. Not even a pack of rolling papers.
Well, I thought, at least I can get drunk. And tried to find the bar.
But, just like the band, there wasn’t one. Turns out all-ages means no booze either. No alcohol? Might as well shoot me.
I understand not selling alcohol to kids, though it does seem a bit cruel, but how can anyone deprive adults of their God-given right to get wasted?
At least there’s grub, I thought. And headed for the nearest food truck. But it was just hippie crap. Stewed lentils and tofu burgers.
Finally found a burger place. One that used real meat. Naturally, the line was a mile long and I had a crying baby, its red howling face right in front of me.
Someone slap that kid, I thought. But strangely, no one did.
Thirty seconds of that and I gave up. Was so hungry I actually considered getting a tofu burger — line-up, none — when I remembered my emergency vodka.
(Never leave home without it.)
So I went into a porta-potty to drink it.
But I must’ve spent too long in there because suddenly the door opened and a security guard, surrounded by a gang of guys with tiny bladders, demanded to know what I was doing.
“Fuck off,” I said. “Can’t you see I’m drinking?”
And so they kicked me out. Turns out no alcohol doesn’t just mean they don’t sell it. You can’t bring it in either. Well, live and learn.
Not that I cared. But the chick I was with sure did. Something about seeing your boyfriend being pulled out of a porta-potty, half-naked and screaming about spilt vodka, seems to put women off.
What’s worse, they didn’t even give me my money back. Just escorted me to the gate like some sort of dangerous criminal.
Trapped between a pair of security guards, who were making a big show of tossing me out, I attracted the attention of several onlookers, most of them tie-dyed hippies who looked at me disapprovingly.
Probably thought I’d done something eco-unfriendly, like use a plastic fork, forget to separate my trash or spray pesticides all over their lentils.
But then, just as we got to the gate, I saw a normal-looking guy in a heavy metal T-shirt who, like a cow slowly heading towards a slaughterhouse, seemed to sense something was amiss.
“Don’t do it!” I shouted. “There’s no alcohol anywhere.”
Panic-stricken, he dropped his ticket and ran — much to the disgust of his girlfriend, who gave me the stink eye.
Well, I thought, I may have lost five bucks but at least I saved a guy from making a terrible mistake.
And I’m going to do the same for you: break up with your girlfriend. Find a shut-in instead. Someone who’ll be happy to spend her evenings at home, watching movies and eating popcorn. You’ll be glad you did.
Because not only is the food and drink a lot cheaper, there’s no line-up for the washroom and you aren’t constantly crushed by crowds.
Everything is so much nicer and, unless you fire a few shots out your window to celebrate a football win or fuck with your neighbor’s cat, the police will probably leave you alone. You can get as wasted as you want and no one will cut you off. Home sweet home indeed. Hope this helps.
Sincerely,
Dale
Hi. If you’ve made it this far, you probably liked the story. So why not check out some others at my Medium page? https://medium.com/dear-dale
Or, if you’d rather I choose for you, here a few of my favorites:
First, one about Dale’s childhood: https://medium.com/dear-dale/what-is-the-secret-to-a-happy-childhood-77623f654f5a
Next, how Dale got suckered into marriage: https://medium.com/dear-dale/is-she-the-one-a208bd41c830
Finally, how Dale was kidnapped by the Amish: https://medium.com/dear-dale/why-are-the-amish-so-stubborn-27232159c315
