It's in the female chemistry that at least two or three nights out of the week, women find themselves needing to be in possession of two items: a man and a paycheck's worth of Cosmo's. Those are their Jordaches talking and whether those genes come off at the end of the night is anyone's guess. (Though, men, if you'd like a tip to increase your chances, I'd suggest getting her friends drunk and THEN focus on her: You can ruin her exit strategy and convince her you care about her friends' good time all in one fell swoop.)
But women are a little more attuned to their biology than men are to theirs. And they know that even if their chromosomes are telling them to hang out with men, that they can interpret that command any way they see fit. And so, they'll occasionally spend their night in the company of the kind of men who prefer the company of most any kind of men. That is to say, men who can complete the lyric: "Clang! Clang! Clang! goes the trolley ...".
It's less about man-hating than mental sanity and may occur for a variety of reasons:
- For instance, there's evidence to suggest that we men have no intention of giving up fart humor.
- Or perhaps women are tired of men who never learned that spooning and a handshake aren't fungible.
- Or, it could be that, in a misplaced effort to be funny, we've used terms like "clam" and "tuna trap" with our outside voice one two many times (which would be "one").
- And then there's the category we'll just call "ethnic jokes".
But whatever their reason, it's undoubtedly a valid one. And so, women will choose to don they now their gay apparel in order to recover the energy they need to hear another straight man stammer, "Sorry, I ... I thought you might be into that."
What they may not realize, however, is that men get sick of the rat race, too, and must step back and take a break from it all. We tend to fill in those blanks with porn but even that gets old after a long, long while. Eventually, you've seen everything or discovered your limits, one, and end up critiquing and comparing and wondering why a particular camera shot is, like, 90 per cent cock: Because, sometimes, even straight porn looks like a postcard from the Washington Monument.
That's why I have decided that there needs to be a male/lesbian equivalent of the fag hag relationship. "Lez lads" was the first name I came up with. And then there was "Dyke Dudes". But they're both kind of clunky. A "Swiss Miss" has a much better ring to it, but the connection between a man and his lesbian friend with that of an attractive nation with inviolable borders probably isn't so obvious.
But those sort of details we can worry about later. All I want to know now is whether there are women out there who are willing to share a few drinks within the DMZ of sexuality. I figure lesbians and men have a lot in common: We can both be pretty cynical; we can both get pretty tired of society defining us; and we can both get pretty tired of straight women who say they will and then they won't.
So, if that sounds like you, ladies, and you need a man to share a pint and trash talk about past relationships, then you've found him.
But, for ANYONE who's read this far -- be you man, woman or "independent" -- then please help me coin a term for the relationship between a man and his lesbian friend/drinking partner. You may respond by email here.
Please include your favorite term from above -- Lez Lad, Dyke Dude, or (coming at it from the other angle) Swiss Miss -- or create one of your own. And include an essay of no more than a few hundred words as to why your choice is the best.
The winner will receive something I'm sure, and will be announced in four weeks time or as soon as we get more than one entry. Whichever comes first.
Today's lesson: Perhaps it's my imagination but it seems like most musicals are geared toward women and homosexual men. And if that's the case, then we have something else in common: We both hate fucking musicals.