"When I Start"

Yeah. Yeah. 

That’s right!

Listen to them scatter.

Ever have one of those moments when your mouth shares, aloud, exactly what’s on your mind? It was suggested to me recently by a trickster, a sh*t stirrer-upper, a woman of both class and crass – that I simply explain my dilemma to the lawn tractor dealer behind the counter, by way of complete honesty, which ironically was neither complete, nor the honest truth. 

“Tell him,” she stated, “that you need that part today – because you’re starting your period tomorrow.”

“But, I’m not starting my period tomorrow,” I replied, giddy with fear. For, I know her all too well.

“That is not the point of this exercise,” she insisted.

“What is,” I wanted to know, laughing now at the absurdity of her suggestion.

“Just tell him – and then say nothing.”

“Nothing,” I aped.

“Nothing,” she replied, insistent. “Just wait for it.”

“For what,” I asked, considering how freeing it might feel to entertain this deviance.

“For the blank stare that will follow when you simply tell him, ‘I need this part no later than five pm today... because I start my period tomorrow’.” 

She grinned.
“What can he, possibly, say in response to that?” “It’s brilliant!”

Now, I’m not one to be so blunt. Shock value is highly overrated. Nor, am I one to mislead a poor, unsuspecting sap by making up lies. But, I found this funny. Not so funny, mind you, that I seriously considered embarrassing, both myself and the unfortunate victim, in the lawn and tractor service department. Enough, I will say, that I can agree the look of confusion, followed by terror, might have been worthy of a small lie, if only I were as deviant as she. 

What is it, honestly, about we women that makes us want to share this most intimate of details with men anyway? It’s a “Sure Thing” with our male counterparts. Ask them to add tampons to the ‘Honey Do Grocery List’ and you are almost guaranteed to see the man before you, morph into the boy he once was, complete with mumbled protestations as he shuffles his feet and lowers his eyes to the floor. You would think they worry the cashier will suspect they are for his use and not yours! 

C’mon people, I don’t know how many times I had to stop into the ‘hardware’ store, with a baby on my hip, to pick up another box of Trojans. You don’t hear me complaining – much. 

Here is what I find fascinating about Men:

They’ll pierce a rusty hook through a wriggling worm with nary a flinch.

They’ll smash their finger with a hammer and talk about how cool it looks for days.

They’ll slice through their shin with a newly sharpened blade on a chain saw without any sign of a whimper.

They’ll scrape the lifeless body of a gnat onto the side of their plate and continue eating.

They’ll turn their underwear inside out and sideways to avoid doing the laundry.

They’ll skin a rabbit and all its kin with the precision of a surgeon and still name their child’s pet, Sweetie Pie.

They will watch as their children are born with tears in their eyes, even as they try to escape the horror of what just happened to their wife. Yet, they will not go along without a fuss, at the mention of “When I start”.

I’m a big girl. I know when I’m trying to lead a horse to water ~ and I know, there is No Way, That Horse is Gonna Fall For Any of My Old Tricks.

I also know I like to talk a lot about me, especially about “…my heart, my brain, my smarts, my medical charts and when I start”! 

A girl can dream.

I didn’t follow through with our little psychological experiment. I do still have to look this man in the eye, when I pick up my part next week, after all.  Though, I do still think, fondly, of her suggestion that I separate myself from my inner monologue, if only once in a while.  A life lived in fear... and all that.

On second thought ~ a little talk of feminine hygiene might be in order, if it doesn’t arrive in a more timely manner.

                            

                            Let's Talk About When I Start!