Warning – the following blog post is wrought with reverse sexism. It’s a joke, people. Please don’t comment about how I’m setting women’s rights back.
Recently, I’ve had a bit of a bug problem. Gross, huh? Well – it’s all fixed now, but when I was texting my landlord about it, I was joking with her that she could either call an exterminator or, …find me a man. A man who will kill bugs for me.
* Swoon *
Well, I’m still waiting on the man (thanks a LOT, Glenda… geez…what do I even pay you rent for?), but we did get to talking about how many dates you’d have to go on to be able to ask for such favors. I propose that a girl should be able to ask for such things on date 1… as part of the sizing-up process. You see… there’s lots of different methods for disposing of 6 and 8-legged creatures (yes, yes, I know spiders aren’t technically insects… You can spare me the science lesson on thoraxes and such… but if they’re an abomination (which spiders CLEARLY are), they count toward my thesis…and they need to die), and the way a man kills them tells you tons about him.
1. The “Squash and Scram” –
This is the guy who rides in on his noble steed, who bravely vanquishes the befouled beast, and then leaves you to …clean up the guts?
Where is the chilvalry? Where is the sacrifice? The guts clean-up is the worst part. Nay – it is the essential part. It’s that “fashion a giant mitt of paper towels to mop up all manner of pest entrails and juice, whilst fighting back the bile creeping up your throat” moment that begs for a big strong man who will smash it, and conceal all evidence.
That’s the stuff of fairy tales.
2. The “ ‘If you Love it, Set it Free’ Bug Hippy” –
We all know these people.
They take that whole “why he wouldn’t even hurt a fly” thing WAY too seriously.
They’re the ones tenderly corralling the 4-foot cockroach into your good Tupperware (which now has to be burned), only then to liberate it from it’s human home-shaped prison, back into the wild where mother nature intended.
The only catch-and-release program happening in my home, is the one for the guy who won’t actually kill the bug. ‘Cause I know what happens….. that bug, once emancipated, goes and tells all its horrid little friends about the mean lady who was scowling and rolling her eyes while the knight in shining armor rescued it from its certain death…. And then they conspire to come and get me in the night.
Yup…I’m fairly certain I have my finger on the pulse of the bug community and this is exactly how it goes down. Town meetings, assembling a quorum, grabbing their tiny pitchforks and storming the castle of my bedroom to call down their reign of terror. So – if you’re going to set it free… you might as well just keep walking. Your alleged mercy is my impending doom.
3. The “Girly-Girl Trapped in a Man’s Body”
(if it wasn’t already anti-feminist before…buckle up)
Look – I want a man who kills a bug like it’s built into his DNA. …Like it’s no big deal or better yet, like he enjoys protecting me from the multi-legged menaces. I don’t want someone to cower or whimper or scream like a girl while performing bug murder. (I’m not making it up – I’ve had two significant men in my life who would literally scream while taking care of an unwanted critter).
75% of the bug killing’s purpose is to actually exterminate the invaders.
The other 25% is to display his bravery, so I’ll practically faint with adoration.
I’m being silly, but there’s something to this… I’ve watched as friends of mine handily kill and dispose of a bug and I find my insides getting all squishy with desire. Recently a friend killed a spider outside my house and I think I may have audibly moaned. Yup. That happened.
So, if he winces and eeks in fear, I’m still glad for the insect death, but I’m not going to pounce on him for a smooch either.
4. The “Half-Hearted Warrior”
This is the guy who doesn’t really get what the big deal is.
You’ll find out who these men are when faced with the bugs who get away…
you know – one of those “I just saw him, but I don’t know where he went” moments.
Guys – we want a man who will go on the hunt – for LOVE! I mean… er… for the bug. If you say, “well, I don’t see it now…” and sit down on the couch expecting my affection to resume at the same level where we left off… you are sadly mistaken.
See, the importance of my happiness to you is directly correlated to how long and how hard you’ll search to end the little devil’s life. Will you move a couch? Will you look under a bed? Will you lie in wait for the creature to think he’s bested you and leave his hiding place, only to suffer your wrath? Now THAT’s romance.
I could go on, but I think we get the idea.
There are a few things you have to experience with a significant other – to truly know whether it’s a good fit. Dance with ‘em, play Monopoly, have them meet your parents, and maybe most importantly …see if/how they’ll kill bugs for you.
Look…this life is hard. If I can find some small measure of solace in the strong arms of a bug killing man… is that too much to ask?
Kill bugs. Kill ‘em good. Clean ‘em up, and come back to claim your reward. Rrrrrr….