Thursday, January 05, 2012

Maybe I ought to pretend I'm a boy.

My sister swoons for chivalry. I try to be a bit more independent. I don't like the idea of anyone who isn't paid to do so waiting on me hand and foot.

On a date, she refused to get in the car because the young gentleman did not open her car door. She patiently stood by the passenger sidedoor as the young man got in the car, saw her, pushed her door open from the inside, rolled his eyes, got out and opened her door for her. I particularly love this story. I think he could have done without the eye roll, though.

She once asked a friend if she ever ought to open her own doors and he replied "Not if there is a young man within dashing distance." I probably rolled my eyes at that.

And yet, simply from habit due to the men I was raised around and the men I spent most of my time with as a young adult, I often find myself pausing to the side of doors waiting for K-Swiss to open them. I quickly shake myself out the stupor and reach for the handle myself. If the door hasn't already been opened for me. In which case I usually apologize. I've even found myself surprised when we are out on a date and he doesn't go for my car door. I have to shake myself and ask why I am incapable of opening the door myself.

No reason. So, mental tsk, and open the door.

This usually happens when I'm wearing heels and skirts. It almost never happens when I'm wearing skinny jeans and a leather jacket. Solution: burn all my frocks. But that would be sad indeed. Habits are hard to break. Know what else is hard for me? Parting with money.

My solution: every time I expect a man to open a door for me, walk on the road side of the sidewalk, fetch the car, etc etc etc, I will place a dollar into my pig. When my piggy is full, I will buy K-Swiss a present and say Sorry I've been a twat.

1 comment:

fraukuech said...

I will be your pig. Feel free to give the money to me.