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THIS IS ALL ABOUT US, GUYS!!! Through a woman's eyes.
On the window of a minibus, a piece of paper hung with a strict inscription: "15 rubles." On the back of this official document...
...some joker wrote with a felt-tip pen: "For comments." Below, there was some folk creativity: "First, screw you," "Kitty, cuckoo," and even "Author, kill yourself."
Next to this piece of paper sat a respectable family: dad, mom, and a baby. The baby was wriggling. Dad was wriggling too, rummaging in his jacket pockets, and whispering something to his wife. She slapped his hands, frowned, and said at regular intervals: "Don't even think about it... Don't embarrass me... Don't even think about it... Don't embarrass..."
Finally, they calmed down. The woman soothed the baby and closed her eyes. Her husband, glancing around furtively, pulled a pen out of his pocket, quickly wrote "+1" at the bottom of the paper, and leaned back in his seat with a sense of accomplishment. The mission was accomplished.
What I like about men is their ability to be mischievous. Throughout their lives, they manage to remain boys with a size 44 foot. Their world is full of laughter, pranks, and jokes about blondes. In their world, you can ride in a shopping cart in a supermarket, and when your girlfriend says, "You're thirty years old, you idiot," you can reply, "Well, I have to find out if it can hold a week's worth of groceries."
In their world, you can stick your head out of the car window just to shout, "Where are you going?!", and then quickly duck back in with a complaint: "Some bitch flew into my nostril," sneeze and cry all the way, and then tell your friends what a cool guy you are and how even the most pimped-out SUVs are afraid of you.
In their world, you can and should rush home in a state of excitement: "Honey, did you see the list of non-paying tenants on the door in the hallway?" – and, waiting for it to get dark, sneak up to this list to add the letter "E" to the non-payer with the cute surname Bat.
In the male world, both oligarch Abramovich and Vasya from the distribution department, who knows how to show the orgasm of a mustang, are equally valued. And it's not even known who is cooler. And if women are crazy about Dr. Kurpatov, "Apartment Question," and Belyanchikova with her "Health," then the male classics are Mr. Bean, KVN, "Comedy Club," and the all-time hit "Dumb and Dumber."
The average guy will never miss an opportunity to laugh. Moreover, he deliberately seeks it out. It seems that the urge for fun adventures is embedded in male DNA.
Once, my friend was picked up by the sobering-up station in the glorious city of Rybinsk. In the evening, he went with his friends to have a beer, and in the morning – oops! – he woke up in an unfamiliar place. People were bustling around, carrying beds and nailing posters on the walls: "Please keep quiet!" The friend scratched his splitting head and asked: "Is this hell?" He was told that this was a new "sobering-up institution No. 2": "There was no more room in the old one, so we brought you here as an exception. We're only opening tomorrow."
What would a normal person do in this case? He would try to slip away as soon as possible, giving the sergeant a bribe so that he wouldn't report it to work. But this is a normal person. My friend demanded a book of complaints and suggestions, where he left the following entry: "Kovalev was here, satisfied with the service." And then he insisted that they give him a certificate as the first visitor. And guess what? The guys understood him. They perked up, threw their beds aside, and enthusiastically began to look for a blank "Certificate of Honor," then composed the text and presented the document, singing a fanfare in unison. My friend still has this certificate hanging in the hallway, in a frame and under glass: "To Citizen Kovalev V.V. for exemplary behavior in sobering-up station No. 2."
Tell me, is this possible in the female world? Would a woman stage a comedy show out of a serious event in her life? And would her friends support her in this endeavor? Hardly. The world of women is made up of small "no's" and "ew, how disgusting." In short, you can die of boredom in the female world.
"Everything is just terribly serious," writes Mil Millington in her book "My Girlfriend Is Always Against." "Take, for example, a car alarm. On the keychain, there's a remote with a button. You press the button – the alarm turns on, you press it again – it turns off. Wonderful! You can click it on the go, without turning around, click it casually, over your shoulder. When you approach the car, it's even more interesting. You start pressing it from a distance, checking at what distance it will work. Sometimes, if you raise your arm higher, you can turn off the alarm while you're on the other side of the parking lot! Or you can walk closer and – puff! – turn it off with a shot from your hip. It's a pity that we don't have a central lock, what a satisfying "click" would be heard every time all the doors open. Get ready! Fire! Click! Delightful. I've often watched my wife turn the alarm on and off, and it seems like it doesn't amuse her at all."
Fun is a privilege of children. And women are born adults. They always know what is good and what is bad. A girl will never put thumbtacks on classmates' chairs. A young woman will never whistle after a cute guy and treat sports games with religious reverence. A woman, after breaking up with a partner, will never go to a bar to brag to her friends about her giant breasts and that men shed tears of gratitude every time she allows them to touch the happiness of her life. A grandmother will never stand on roller skates and pinch a young boy on the butt, no matter how much she wants to.
Boys are completely different. When they are told not to do something, they want to do it even more. "Don't touch Barsik when he's eating," my brother's parents said. Bang! – and he already has 36 scratches on his face, and he's giving a speech to his friends in the yard about "How I pulled a prank." He's having fun. And I'm delighted with this wonderful trait of his character. Because if gloom is a terrible sin, then my brother will always remain a saint.
Of course, sometimes we suffer from male mischief. Men constantly switch the TV to football or cartoons. They watch stupid comedies that we can't stand. They clutter up the closet with fishing gear, just to go somewhere a hundred kilometers away once a year and catch a carp. They whisper in the museum, seeing medieval armor: "I wonder, if I give the guard a hundred bucks, will she let us and Andryukha put it on and fight?" They suggest installing a table hockey in the living room, and when they run out of money, they run to the "Vulkan Udachi" gambling establishments, hoping to win. They replace us with rubber dolls, secretly eat the cake prepared for the guests, and play their damn computer games all night long. Terrible. Remember how the girlfriends talked in the series "Balzac Age, or All Men Are..."
- I want to buy him a "PlayStation" for his birthday.
- Nina, do you like sex?
- Yes.
- Then don't buy him a "PlayStation."
We get angry at men. We get indignant. We put on serious faces and sternly say: "How can you be such a boy?"
- The thing is," my friend once told me, "that you women don't have a sense of humor. That's why we'll never understand each other.
I don't know, I don't know. Yes, sometimes we refuse to show understanding, we demand to watch only melodramas in the cinema, and frankly, we don't care what will happen if you put a head in a photocopier. But we do have a sense of humor. Otherwise, we wouldn't agree to be in a relationship with men.
Natalia Radulova
