(*The following is a cranky, overgeneralized
public service announcement.)
Dear Males,
Why do you feel so entitled to spit on the sidewalk as you stroll down the street or train platform, as if a specially trained sanitation technician will materialize behind you and immediately clean up your foamy gnarly germs? As if your fellow citizens will not tread the same path and run a very high risk of tracking your bacteria back into their private space with them?
Why do you feel so comfortable talking in a LOUD voice in public, as if everyone around you is dying to hear your thoughts, plans, and opinions? It's nice that you're outgoing, and brash, and are possessed of that judgment-impairing level of testosterone that fills you with a purposeful self-confidence, but please, every once in awhile, shush.
Why, before entering a public space (especially a swimming pool), do you double-dip yourself in powerfully foul, allegedly female-attracting scents like that of Sir Paco Rabanne himself? It is perhaps a little-known fact that women are equipped with a much more keen sense of smell than men, so if your objective in adorning yourself with industrial sized vats of rat musk is to draw comely ripe females in your direction, please know that you should dial back the scent about 95% so as to avoid overwhelming our finely tuned olfactory systems, and cause us to actually flee the vicinity. *No actual replies are expected or would be useful. The author understands that these puzzling behaviors are not present in every male, makes no claim that all males are spitty, yelly, and smelly, and does not suffer from the delusion that non-males, i.e. "females," are angelic and perfect and poo iced cupcakes. Many males are, in fact, quite nice and enjoyable to spend time with. In just the past few months, the author has had (several individual) males to thank for helping her settle into a new city, eat regular meals, take nice bike rides, decorate her apartment, find a job, and attend many a fun party-type gathering. Thanks for reading.
