Let's Talk, Let's Not

"Let's talk"is a statement most men dread hearing a woman say. Loosely translated, it means I (women) would like to discuss my emotions, and how what you (men) are doing or not doing is making me feel. The second the words come out of her mouth, a man's eyes will start to roll to the back of his head, and he will suddenly be over-come with a sunken feeling of emotional emptiness and excuses. Then a man will immediately check the clock to decide how much time he has to spare to the daunting task of talking versus how much time the discussion is liable to take. Next, a man will survey the scene to see if anyone is in ear-shot that might over-hear the conversation. There is always the fear of embarrassment depending on the tone and texture of the discussion. If the surrounding company is not an issue, then the question of when is. In the eyes of men, women pick some of the most inopportune moments to want to emotionally touch base. These times include: viewing or attending sporting events, just before sleeping, during sleeping, just after awakening, any moment around having sex, while reading, watching or listening to sporting news, during parties, while hanging out with friends, while working or attending school, commuting, dinner time, while working on home-projects, cars, bikes, etc. Just about anytime is the wrong time. Why? Because men hate to discuss their feelings. Men would rather show women how they feel, then to discuss it.

Woman: How come you never tell me you love me anymore? Translation: I've been thinking, what have you done for me lately?

Man: What are you talking about? I married you. I say, "I love you" every time I make an installment payment on that ring. That's why I can't afford anything else now. Pause, long sigh. Translation: I'm just trying to find an excuse to avoid talking about my feelings. I'm hoping your question will be lost in the argument we are about to have.

Woman: Let's talk, or the equally popular "we need to talk." The second statement is usually issued after several attempts of "let's talk" have produced unsatisfactory results. It means that not only is the woman emotionally distraught, she is also feeling judgmental and argumentative as well.

Man: I just got in the door twenty minutes ago. I'm tired and hungry, besides the big game is about to air. I fight all day long at work, I don't want to come home and have to fight you too. Can I just get a little peace and quite without you starting in on me as soon as I hit the door? Translation: I hate my dead-end, no chance for advancement, having to kiss the ass of my inappreciative bastard for a boss, minimal wage earning, long hours, no benefits job. Please don't further crush what little self-respect and ego I have by reminding me through discussion how inadequate my emotional character and communication skills are. I just want to be consoled by the baseball game, and lose myself in all my childhood dreams of fame and fortune of being in the big leagues. But I can't even communicate well enough to tell you that without showing anger.

Woman: It's never the right time. You just stomp all over my feelings, like your mashing grapes for wine. I want to talk, and you are not about to tune me out over a stupid baseball game! Translation: I insist that you sit-down and discuss the problems in our relationship instead of trying to ignore them and me. I'm hurt, and you need to get straight about fixing the lines of communication. Wait till I stop wanting to talk. Mamma is gonna put on a short tight skirt, get on a plane, fly somewhere warm and tropical, and get her groove back in the big strong arms of a mandingo warrior hung like a horse.

Man: Just let me be woman, I promise we will talk about this tomorrow, okay. In fact, I'll come pick you up from work and we will go have a nice long dinner and do some shopping. Translation: Let me show you I love you, don't ask me to say it, and need I remind you once again that the game is about to come on.

Woman: (Under her breath) Good, you can buy me a new thong-bottom, spaghetti-strap-top swimsuit for my trip. Translation: I'll call you from the beach, while Dexter is rubbing lotion on my sun-bathing ass, and any other place I think needs attention. What you don't take care of, somebody else will.

Man: What did you say? Translation: I wasn't listening.

Woman: Nothing dear, as she walks away humming, "I'm leaving on a jet plane, I don't know when I'll be back again." Translation: Man might have his will, but a woman will have her way.

Man: Go Yankees! Translation: I have no idea that in two weeks time, I will be lonely eating spam out of the can, drinking myself toward liver disease, while balled-up in a fetal-position in a dark corner, convincing myself I'm better-off without her, accompanied by fretful crying rages of why did she leave me, I don't need her, but I love her, damn, damn, damn.

Moral Of The Story:
Without communication you cannot have knowledge, and without knowledge you cannot see the beauty of a woman.

P.S.
By the way, the woman left her husband for Dexter, relocated to the tropics, and died shortly afterwards from malaria. I just love happy endings.