If I could be the opposite sex for a day, I’d be worried about not getting anything done because obviously I’d spend the first hour or seven touching myself. Women can have multiple orgasms. Rapid fire. I’d have to check that out. And really, I wouldn’t worry about feeling myself up all day because everybody knows women can multi-task and accomplish things in one day that would take a guy two weeks.
I don’t think I’d ever stop touching myself all day long, but at some point I would probably get off the bed. Ha, ‘get off.’ Pun totally not intended. My next task as a woman would be to find things. When I was married, finding things was really easy.
“Honey, where are my shoes?”
“In the closet!”
“I don’t see them.”
“Did you look under your dirty clothes that you can’t seem to put in the hamper?”
“No. Ah. Here they are. Thanks.”
And of course I’d search out and discover all kinds of goodies in the fridge, I’m sure of it. As a man:
“Honey, where is the butter?”
“In the fridge!”
“Duh. I’m looking in the fridge and I don’t see it anywhere. It’s not on the butter shelf.” Pissy wife stomps over to fridge and moves milk bottle three inches to the right revealing the butter and then stomps off again.
Now that I’m divorced, I can’t find jack. So as a woman, I’d spend the better part of my morning masturbating and looking for elusive household items. Funny how that doesn’t sound any different than what I do now. The difference however, is in the result. Rolling orgasms and finding everything would be terrific!
Next, I would try to figure out why women can rarely call a friend for a last second cocktail at the local bar. Guys do this all the time.
Guy 1: “Yo, want to grab a beer tonight?”
Guy 2: “Yep. See you at 8p.”
With women, it tends to go more like this:
Gal 1: “Hi. Blah blah blah blah (this is seemingly endless chatter about the kids, the school, the PTA, the neighbors, the husband/boyfriends – but not both, work, the nanny, play dates, gossip, feelings, chick flicks, dieting, family history and the meaning of life). Oh and do you want to go out tonight for a drink?"
Gal 2: “I’d love to go out tonight. Can we invite (insert between two and twenty two names here)? And I’d love to make it a partial birthday party for Sally. I’ll bring a cake!”
Gal 1: “That sounds awesome. I’ll take up a collection to buy a gift card. And I’ll send out an e-vite. What do you think of a summer theme of margaritas and mojitos?”
Gal 2: “Perfect! I’ll see about hiring a mariachi band and maybe we can take salsa lessons!”
Gal 1: “I will download a hundred dollars of new music so I can make a playlist.”
Gal 2: “Lets rent out a room at the restaurant. I’ll work on the menu.”
Gal 1: “We will need to decorate. Good thing I’m calling you from Target. I’ve been here every day for a week.”
Gal 2: “Maybe we should move the date from tonight to next week so we can fly in surprise guests.”
Gal 1: “Awesome idea. I just spent $400 dollars on party favors.”
In other words, it seems like girls can’t just go grab a drink. So as a woman, I’d attempt to have one beer, I mean one cosmopolitan, with one or two friends. I’d get all dressed up just in case. You never know who you are going to run into while out and about. I’d find the highest heels possible so I can experience just how painful and difficult it is to wear those suckers. I’d find my sexiest push-up padded bra and make sure to show some cleavage.
And then I’d be ready to head out when all the sudden, boom. Aunt Flo. Holy crap. I get one day to be a woman and my fucking period comes?!! Well, at least I’m not pregnant. Although I thought about going that route. Can I be a woman for one day – the day she gives birth? That is one thing that us men will never ever be able to fully comprehend. The true miracle. The bond the baby has with the mother is irreplaceable. I think to experience that would be amazing. However, I’m not into excruciating pain so thank goodness for the period!
At this point I’d call some of my real life man friends and tell them how I am a woman for a day and that they have no idea! I’d cry at the tiniest little things: a commercial with a cute little kitten playing with a ball of yarn, a father and son playing catch in the front yard, a long line at the supermarket, a chipped nail.
I’d say to my real life male friends, “You need to go buy me tampons. And some chocolate. Now. NOW!” And you know the guy would put his tail between his legs and go buy tampons. He’d spend an hour trying to figure out if he got the right brand, size and style and then he’d pick up at least ten other unnecessary items for their ability to surround and partially hide the tampons on the grocery store conveyor belt.
I’d wait impatiently for my chocolate (and tampons) while I kneaded my sensitive breasts. My period was making me so horny. Touching my breasts was incredibly painful but I couldn’t stop. I had less than a day to enjoy my assets first hand, so I kept going while I scoffed at the Victoria’s Secret models in the catalogue I found in my stack of 37 unread woman’s magazines that were next to my unread twelve books from the library.
My chocolate would arrive so I’d put down the nearly empty pint of ice cream and devour the candy bars. The guy would look at me with fear in his eyes. He has been around women at this time of month and usually tries to lay low.
I narrow my eyes at him and will him with my mind to give me a backrub. He just sits there, stupidly. I crinkle my nose and try harder to get him to read my mind. Why can’t men read women’s minds? Now that I am a woman, I am giving him very obvious secret signals that I want a backrub. And he just sits there trying to avoid eye contact. Stupid little fuck! Read my mind.
“You are an asshole!”
“What?”
I’d storm off to my room with a glass of white wine to read the Twilight series while I fondle myself.
I’d then write down the ten most important things that all women know that men just can’t figure out. I’d hope to carry this priceless information with me back to the dark side of manliness.
And then I’d masturbate.
Brett - WowThatWasAwkward
It was Dark, Stormy and I Lost My Serial Comma
Judges Comments:
"This was a great post! I especially loved where you'd call your male friend and have them go get you tampons. But yuck, why masturbate on your period? Great job this week! "
T. Rojas, from Motherhood: The Definition of Insanity
"The phone conversation cracks me up! it's so true!! haha. hilarious post! good job!! :) "
Erica, from Good Job Momma
"I think you hit all the "highlights" of being a woman, all crammed into one day. This hit the assignment spot on. Good post! "
Random Girl, from Random Girl Blog