Women chat too
The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord,
Then we shall have ’em
Talk us to silence.
— Shakespeare, Henry I, 4
So said Lord Sands, who was very concerned about the ladies and their chatter, as after a few drinks they would chat until kingdom come, talk the men into silence. There’s also another twist to plying women with alcohol, as the saying is, ‘Candy is dandy but liquor is quicker.’ So, all you gentlemen who gave your ladies chocolate last Valentine’s Day, a bottle of wine would have done the trick much quicker, according to urban legend. It makes the path to success smoother.
Yes, women do talk. They gossip, prattle, exchange prose, chat and spend more time on the phone than an employee of a call centre. Of course they’ll deny it, but they do burn up the phone lines.
Not only do they chat about all manner of inane stuff, such as hair products, nails and clothes, but they talk about men too. Oh, yes! It’s a myth that women don’t chat about men, for they do. The only difference is that they chat among themselves, guardedly, with men hardly if ever hearing what they say, for it’s often not very flattering. Men on the other hand, chat for all and sundry to hear.
We’ll find out just what women chat about, right after these gilt edged responses to my reflections on the ‘Golden years’.
Hi Tony,
Your analysis on the term, ‘golden years’ is absolutely correct, but ‘twilight’ more aptly describes that era. The word also means a period of decline. If one has to attach a precious metal to the declining period, perhaps it should be silver years, when the hair on the head, chin and even pubic area turns to silver. I also agree that the golden years of our youth were the best of times and the twilight years are the worst of times…to paraphrase Charles Dickens.
Carlos
Hey Tony,
You are so correct when you pointed out that there is nothing golden about the latter years of human life. I can tell you, I am just over seven decades and still in relatively good health, but the aches and pains that I feel, especially at night, are certainly not golden. I have memories of a lusty youthful life, but that’s all I can enjoy now, those memories. Oh, if I had known then what I know now. But it’s not all that bad, my son, it’s a progression, a process that takes us out of here. It’s not golden though.
Winston
A few weeks ago I mentioned that a young lady from my youthful days chatted about me to her best friend, telling her all sorts of tales about my physicality. Naturally, being curious, the best friend wanted to know if the stories were true and came to test the waters. Well, enough said about that disastrous encounter, but what I will say is that it opened my eyes to the fact that women chat about men in the same way that men chat about women. Well, not exactly the same way, for there is a twist.
A man usually brags about his prowess, real or imagined, and what he did to the woman. Of course, in his own manly style, he’ll embellish the encounter, fabricate the facts, lubricate the lies, adding extra minutes or even hours to the escapade. As the saying goes, ‘He’s a legend in his own mind.’
“Man, I deal with her case for over two hours, and she couldn’t stop screaming out my name… and the Lord’s name too.” That’s his story and he’s sticking to it. But there’s an old African saying that goes: ‘The tale of the hunt is different when the lioness, not the hunter, tells her story.’ The woman tells a different tale when chatting to her friends than what she tells the man.
Fortunately for me, I always surrounded myself with females from I was a young boy and then later as a teenager in high school. I simply liked the company of women, and even now I don’t surround myself too much with man and man unless it’s at a sporting event or such.
I love the company of women and still I prefer to hang out with females (wife included of course) than with a group of men. As a result, I always have an insight into the feminine mind, and also hear a lot of what females chat about.
Many men would cringe with horror if they knew what women chatted about them. For example, let’s take the issue of size. We’ve all heard the reassurance given to men that size does not matter. Well, that is absolutely not true and is just perpetuated to appease those men who come up really short.
I have been in the company of women and was like a fly on the wall, invisible, as I sat within earshot and listened to them chat about men and their shortcomings. The general consensus was that average size was fine, but too fine was not fine. “I met this guy and we decided to have a fling, but all now I can’t feel a thing,” said one lady. “My dear, I know what you mean, I had one that was like a cigarette, without the filter tip.” And oh how they laughed and laughed at those poor men.
No wonder the medical advice columns are filled with letters from desperate men asking the doctors how to enlarge their manhood. “Dear Doc, if I hang a five pound weight on it, will it make it bigger?”
The women may not tell it to those hapless men, but when they get together they chat like a cage full of parrots. “Afterwards he told me that he lives in Shortwood. I couldn’t help but buss out laughing,” giggled one lady.
Apart from size, women also chat about stamina or lack of it. Some have said, “It was over so quickly I didn’t even have time to count to ten.”
Yet those are the same men who will chat to their friends about how they piled on the agony for hours. Ironically, some women also chat that even though the men seem to think that the longer they last the better it is, it’s not necessarily so. “He just went on and on with boring regularity while I pretended to enjoy it,” is what I’ve heard.
As the old saying goes, ‘It’s not how long you make it, but how you make it long.’ In economics it’s called diminishing returns. I’ve even seen on those female talk shows where some women complain about the excessive marathons that do very little but make them bruised and tired. Women’s expectations vary though, but they definitely don’t want any two-minute man.
Women chat about the spending habits of men, and although the man would never hear it, they chat among themselves if they think a man is mean or not. Interestingly, I recently saw a blurb that stated, ‘It would be great if a man could see a woman for what she really is while she has her clothes on, and if a woman could see a man for what he is without him having to open his wallet.’ But I’ll explore that another time.
Women chat about how caring men are, or if they’re brutish, cold and selfish, good in bed or not. They chat things about men that most men will never hear, for just like politicians, they tell the people what they think they want to hear.
If you really want to hear about what women chat about, just hang around a hair, beauty, or nail salon where women congregate and you’ll learn a lot.
I tell you, comparing a man’s erect organ to the size of a cigarette without the filter tip is cold, real cold. Women chat too, and you’d better believe it.
More time.
seido1@hotmail.com
Footnote: For years I have written about the bad driving on our roads, especially by the taxi men and minibuses. Well, I’m ashamed to say that recently I became what I beheld. I’m usually a very careful driver, but last week, in a rush of blood, I took on the persona of a taxi driver. I exited a business establishment and couldn’t merge into the lane of traffic as the line wouldn’t let me in. So I revved up my vehicle and bullied my way in, only to be stopped by the cops who were doing spot checks. They really gave me a tongue lashing and I was washed with shame, as it was so out of character for me to behave that way on the roads. I apologised profusely to the officers who mercifully let me off with a stern warning. Traffic can bring out the worst in us sometimes.