About four weeks ago, in the early stages of a sort-of-kind-of relationship with a nice woman I met online, popped a question out of nowhere.
Do you think I look hot?
Great. I was hit with the classic, stereotypical “you can’t win” affirmation, the same type of question that are a cliche of sitcoms involving dumb but loveable husbands. The question comes in many forms, among them “does my butt look big?” and “is she prettier than me?”
I refused to answer. She persisted. Finally, I fessed up, and told her what I felt. “No, you’re not hot. ‘Hot’ defines a certain look … revealing clothing, a very hip hairstyle, a lot of makeup, and a certain attitude. That’s not you. You’re cute, and I find you attractive, but you’re not dolled up like a clubgoing college student or a Fox News Channel anchorwoman. That doesn’t mean they look better than you on a quantitative scale of attractiveness; it’s just a different look.” (She’s a PhD, so it’s safe to assume she knew what I meant by “quantative scale.”) She seemed satisfied with the answer.
Last Tuesday, though, she called me on it. In the middle of an otherwise normal phone conversation, she asked “How come you don’t think I’m beautiful?” Huh? Where did this come from? “Four weeks ago, you told me that I wasn’t beautiful.” Lovely. Now I have to clarify that both she and I were discussing “hot”, and I’ll end up looking like I’m trying to cover up a past lie. I’ll also have to justify what I said again, and I’m just not up for it. In the days previous, it seemed like I couldn’t say anything right; she went from being someone I felt comfortable talking to about anything to a junior member of the offenderati.
Anyhow, that was the last time I spoke to her. I had an offenderati girlfriend before, and I didn’t want to be in a relationship where I felt like I not only had to walk on eggshells during conversation, but also feeling like I’m being tested with questions you can’t properly answer. Yes, there’s conflicts in every relationship, but it seemed like she was trying to create conflict where none existedbefore, for its own sake, either to test me or to introduce drama and make things more exciting in her eyes. Forget it; I’m lonely, but not that lonely.
So, women … why do you ask men questions where there is no good answer? “Does my butt look big?” If you answer “no,” you’re lying. If you answer “yes, but it looks fine to me” you’re an inconsiderate oaf. Should I have lied?
(Corrected thread title: ‘bug’ to ‘big’)