What I’ll Bet You Never Knew About Hair

I was listening to that call-in talk show advice program on the radio again–the one run by a psychologist. I seem to have become hooked. Fact is, it is entertaining to see what kinds of jams people get themselves into and then call this psychologist to find an escape route. She definitely cuts to the heart of the matter and accepts no blather about side issues.

One of today’s callers did men everywhere a huge disservice–he confirmed women’s worst fears about what men’s attitudes toward women and the bedroom are–assuming he is representative of his gender. I can only pray that he is not. This poor guy was clueless as to why his wife of eight years had lost all interest in him as a sexual partner. He said she had lost interest in ‘sex,’ not with anything in relation to him, of course, but I’ll bet anything that if the right package showed up on her doorstep, her interest in sex would be instantly restored to an all time high.

To any woman listening to this hapless representative of the male species, the problem was evident–and it was the guy himself. Apparently he thinks that after arguing with and belittling his wife, she should then be eager–grateful even–to have a hot all-nighter between the sheets–with him, no less.

The psychologist, to her credit, did not laugh the man off the phone, although every female in her listening audience did…and then, much to my amazement, it only got worse. Gently, as she tried to get the guy to see the folly in his thinking, she asked him to name the biggest sex organ in the human body. To keep him from making himself seem any more foolish than he already had, she gave him a huge hint with, “it’s above the neck and not below the waist.”

And then he said it–the most unbelievable but presented-as-fact comment made by any man since the beginning of time, unless you count W’s proclamation of victory in Iraq just a few months after he started the now 4+ year-old war. I have to admit this talk show caller has really given W a run for his money with his response.

So, when asked to name the biggest sex organ in the human body–located above the neck–this nitwit guy said, “Her hair.”

Yup, that’s right–he said “her hair.” Don’t you just want to fly in from wherever and rescue this poor woman? What could have possessed her into consenting to marry such a witless wonder? No wonder she doesn’t want to have sex if he’s the one doing the offering. Yikes.

Then I got to thinking what would I–or any woman with brain–do when she woke up to find herself married to this…for eight years? First, I’d head for the hills, and once safely there, I’d get myself out of that most unfortunate entangling legal alliance in less time than it takes to say the word ‘divorce.’

Next thing would to be to sign up for a course in whatever-it-would-be that would inform me of what in the world had allowed me to make such a grievous error in judgment in consenting to spend eight years of my life with this man that apparently doesn’t know women have brains–perhaps having watched The Stepford Wives more than a few too many times. I wouldn’t trust myself to make another decision until I’d figured it out.

I do hope that woman, married to the man who called in, heard that show–she has a great need-to-know if ever anyone did. But of course she’s probably known for quite some time, and is just trying to find the surest and fastest way out of town.

I wish her well and hope that she can find that class to teach her what to do in the future in order to avoid another mega disaster of choice. Actually, she should teach it. I’m sure her circumstances have forced her to use the gray matter in her head–you know, that stuff reputed to be lying under that all-important sexual organ called “hair.”

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