I was golfing yesterday in a tournament that was being put off by chartered accountants. I was invited by my friend and I'm not one to turn down free golf, especially a round that comes with a free meal. It was a wonderful day and I hope I get invited back again next year. No offence intended, but an accountant is not exactly my idea of a manly profession. That was proven by the fact that I won the prize for having the longest drive. I hit a pretty good shot, but in the cop golf tournaments that I usually attend, I have never come close to being the longest hitter. Then again, in those cop tournaments I have never witnessed anyone using a calculator to add up his score, as was the case yesterday. Should i ever need an accountant, I'd certainly hire that guy. He must not have trusted the calculator because he punched in the numbers at least three times. I was beginning to wonder if C.A. stood for "Can't Add".
I like to fit in where ever I am. I consider it a special talent of mine that I can be so versatile and get along in just about any social situation. In an effort to do just that, I thought I would make a fitting comment just as my playing partner and I were driving along a fairway that bordered a pond. I said "That is a pretty pond." It really was too. There were lilly pads floating, frogs croaking, ducks bathing, and horseflies zipping. A real nice early summer scene that went well with how I was feeling right at that moment. I figured my cart driver, friend, host, and C.A. graduate, Gerry, would appreciate the sentiment of my comment. To my surprise, he didn't. He said that I sounded like a woman!
It's the next day and I'm thinking about Gerry's comment. Don't get me wrong, I love women. I even think that men would be much better off if we possessed more qualities that are usually only found in the fairer sex. That is not the issue. I'm wondering whether one innocent comment should be taken at face value and then used to define who we are? Does our true nature reveal itself in those moments when we are at peace and most at ease? I said what I thought Gerry wanted to hear, but it was still a truthful comment that aptly described the picturesque little pond.
Torture can illicit statements that are untrue because the victim will say anything to make the pain cease. I wasn't being tortured, although I was playing brutal golf. In a man's world and in a man's brain, a synonym for torture is shopping for clothes with one's spouse or girlfriend. We just want it to end too, so we'll resort to whatever statements are in our personal arsenal in hopes that they'll expedite our woman's walk to the cashier. Hey ladies, do any of these sound familiar?
-"That looks really nice on you."
- "It really brings out the colour of your eyes."
- And my personal favourite, "You should get the shoes to go with it."
What had started as a solo trip to Canadian Tire turned into hell on earth when the missus said she'd come along because she needed to make one quick stop. Two hours later, your arms are tired from holding on to her purse that has to weigh 60 pounds. What can be in that thing? We don't dare look because there just may be some feminine hygiene products of some strange colour and shape that will inevitably leap out the moment we open the purse. If anything comes out of that damn suitcase, disguised as a handbag, no man will be picking it up. A little soccer kick usually suffices to send it on its way under the neighbouring racks and bins of bras and undies. The next time you're in the Suzy Cher torture chamber, drop a loonie on the floor, sort of accidentally-on-purpose-like. Take a good look under the bins, you'll discover that many a man has been there before. The pain you are experiencing has been shared by your brothers since women realized they have something that we want and will endure anything to get. Long before Pavlov made a dog salivate by ringing a bell, women have made men drool and have made them come along shopping.
Women just don't seem to notice that these things go missing from their purses, yet we men can tell when our credit card is positioned upside down in our wallet. Perhaps it has something to do with sitting on our wallets like we do and developing a personal kinship with them. Some guys love their wallets so much they resort to chaining it to their pants. Can you imagine if women carried their purses like men carried their wallets. They'd all have behinds that looked like J. Lo. Hey, that's probably not a bad idea. I see a business venture in the making. I thought I'd ask my C.A. friend Gerry if he would be the accountant for this business. I think I've made a good choice. I just called his cell phone and his wife told me they were now at Canadian Tire. Gerry needs batteries for his calculator.
