Marry Merry Maids

Is it because men are considered superior by most, especially their wives and they are cowered to in most instances? Is it that women have been trained not to show brain over anatomy – that many who are willing or feel compelled to marry have interpreted their own value to be whatever satisfaction they may offer to any male participation with them and that participation chiefly being erotic male relief where consciousness is mostly left in a space that exists between them – where she is fairly invisible and comfortably shunned thereafter unless she is a nose-pulling ‘bitch’ who’s trained her husband well? Her mind was reeling with possible explanations but she decided to keep them to herself — he wouldn’t get it anyway.

He had asked her why it always seemed to be married men who were attracted to her. He had just told her what a “diamond” she was to him in his mind and how he valued her for all of the wonderful shiny things that she was and went on to give her an account — but as soon as any brains of hers he claimed to think were part of the diamond faceting appeared, he left for the space between them where he could comfortably shun her, at least where he could slime things up a bit.

She wanted not to know him anymore. Sickening to think of any thoughts about her he was thinking and it wasn’t ever very long while they were talking before his slimy thoughts came out. She felt like trash eventually in any of the calls he made to try to keep her on some string he thought he had her on. He could have left the conversation at “diamond” but his ego got a little hurt because she had mentioned another man being interested in her, so he needed to make her feel unworthy or at least smooth any ruffled feathers of his own.

“A man needs a maid,” the song rang through her head — Neil Young’s song.

Fuck what men need, was all she could think except for being happy that she had known what good a man and woman can be. She had known the space between a man and woman where everything was sacrificed except for genuine and better knowing. They were both happy for it not feeling any kind of a sacrifice, that their friendship was the best exchange. A brother might behave the same. She hadn’t had a brother but he had been exactly equivalent to one.

It might be that she had not seen the best of most but from what she’d seen, men generally marry merry maids – women who cower and dance at their every beckoning, keep a clean house, cook well and/or have very, very large breasts. If a woman has very, very large breasts, for the most part, all else can fall by the wayside. Sickening to think and likely why she preferred to remain unmarried, that men seem so shallow. None of it seemed anywhere near worth the trouble that it came packaged with and most would cheat somehow in a heartbeat — somewhere, sometime for some God-only-knows reason. She abhorred seeing women cower or, alternatively, pull a man around by his nose.

“I think married men are attracted to me because they more typically marry merry maids and down the road discover that merry maids don’t always come with much ability to think and eventually see me as a thing that they are missing. Someone who likes to think. Isn’t that why you like me — because you know that I won’t put up with your shit — I can think and think better of myself than to give in to any of that? You wanted someone who would cook and clean and, you know, please you on demand. Isn’t that why you chose her over me? Wasn’t it her giant breasts and that she put up with your cheating ways and still cooked and cleaned and, you know, pleased you on demand?”

He had stopped listening to her at “Hello”.

She found herself so glad now that it hadn’t ended up that they had ended up together or that she had ended up with anyone for that matter.

 

advice on marriage

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s