As a guy, let me be honest. There are times when guys disgust me. Like when they gather in a group. One thing always comes right out. Sex. I mean, for example. Three or four guys at work go out to lunch one day, as a group. What do they do? Sit at the table, stuffin’ their faces, and commenting, quietly of course, about the women they see. Especially the ones waiting on tables. “Did you see the ass on that one? Momma! The way it moves from side to side when she walks?” And “Day-yum, how’d she get them jeans on?” And “I’d love to hug her ass that tight!” And there’s always that guy that says, “Oh, baby. Come sit them buns on my lap. I’ve got something for them.”
”Hey, guys! We have boobage over there!” Followed by the mandatory, “Come on, baby. Lean over. That’s it! Yes!” With one of the guys going, “Mmmmm. Now that’s what I call desert. A little whipped cream. A little chocolate. I could eat them.” And they all see the one that comes in wearing that barely there top, secretly wishing the buttons on it would give up the ghost. “Just to see those with nothing on ‘em would make my day.”
When they watch a hot chick eat, things get even worse.“Aw, damn. I’ve got something you can eat.”
There’s the body art guessing games. “Wonder how far that paint goes up her leg?” With his buddies going, “Wouldn’t it be fun to find out?” I mean, seriously. Trying to figure out if she’s wearing regular panties, a thong, or nothing? “She’s got a pierced tongue. Look.” As the guy next to him says, “I wonder what else she’s had pierced? Like maybe her knockers?” And the guy across from him adds in, “Maybe she has one of those rings?” One of them always asks the question, “Do you think she shaves?”
Then there’s the ranking system. “That one’s bang worthy. Oh, yeah, dude. I could bang that,” or “Cute, but not good enough. Wouldn’t bang that one.” As they all stare while one walks by, “Look, guys! Look! There she goes! There she goes!” As they all moan, “Awww, baby. Don’t leave.”
And they all know they’re never gonna a get a piece of any of ‘em. That women are too smart to play that game. That they’re just dreamin’.
And you say you wanna be a part of that? One of the guys? You want to belong? Boy, you just enjoy being the odd man out, ‘cause I’m tellin’ ya. You don’t know at all how lucky you are that you don’t have to play that stupid male game.
This piece was created for the 10th Friday Night Write, hosted on Sweet Banana Ink, where the prompt is music that acts as the catalyst for your creative muse. There are some amazing works there every week. Please go explore them.
My Soul's Tears 