How to Make a Man Feel Good
Posted on January 9, 2013
Now before you think I’ve gone off the rails and decided to take my lesbo life and smoothly transition into straight porn, let me explain. I don’t mean the above title in the way that you think. I mean make a man feel good in terms of his self-esteem. Some of you feminists out there may be cringing. Fear not. A lot of what I’m going to say can apply to fleshy-coin-purse carriers as well as danglers. But, for the purposes of today’s post I’m going to talk about men. Specifically, men.
Last night I attended a comedy show without Wifesy. Now, I love Wifesy (as you all know) and I love that she loves coming to my comedy shows. There’s nothing that makes a creative person happier than a supportive partner. However, last night I went out solo as Wifesy was working. I went to a show where I was performing and I hung out with a straight male friend of mine who happens to be the co-producer of my LA comedy show. He’s a great guy. I can’t say enough good things about him.
I do know that he’s going through a hard time though. He just broke up with his long term girlfriend and he’s exploring delving into comedy on a more full-time basis. He’s a smart guy, a sensitive guy, but definitely a straight male, p*ssy hound, dude. This is my favorite type of straight guy. A smart man who loves and respects women. What’s not to like?
Here’s why I bring him up. At the end of the show last night, I was heading out to the parking lot to head home to Wifesy. Straight Guy headed out with me. We were finishing up our conversation about this week’s show. When I hit the parking lot, I asked him to do something odd for me. I asked him to move my car out of it’s parking spot and point it in the right direction towards the street. He jumped at the chance. Literally, he was really happy to do it.
Now, let’s go over some things here – obviously, I could’ve done this myself. I am a highly capable woman and a good driver. I’d even bet my car insurance rates are lower than Straight Guy’s (nudge, nudge, wink, wink.) However, it was a bigger car than I am used to driving. It was a clunker for a car. I am babysitting a friend’s automobile while she’s in New York and Wifesy had our safe and comfortable car at work. So, the car had me feeling a touch more insecure than I normally am. The parking lot was also super-cramped. My car was inches away from another car. When the opportunity presented itself to ask Straight Guy to move my car for me, I took it. Mainly, because I didn’t want to deal with it and secondly because I knew it would make him feel good. He’s a helpful guy.
The whole thing reminded me of the time I had dinner in a New York city restaurant with a straight girl I usually adore. She’s a feminist, which is important for what I’m about to say. As we were leaving the restaurant, an older man in a suit held the door open for us. My friend did something I didn’t expect at all. She lectured the man on how “we can hold open the door for ourselves” and “is he joking that he thinks he has to hold open the door for two women.” She-sus Christ, I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life. He was just being nice. Holding open the door for us made him feel good and goddermn it, it made me feel good. There was no need to take him down for simple politeness.
Wifesy has a very good straight male friend named, Bob. Every time we go out Bob pays for the meal. At first I hated this. I didn’t want to take advantage of a guy that wasn’t going to “get any” from two in-a-relationship lesbos. That was until I realized it made him feel good and he did it for EVERY carrier of a fleshy-coin-purse. Now I make a joke about it. I tell Bob that he’s the president of the “Save a Lesbian” foundation and that on his refrigerator he should have a picture of Wifesy and I crying instead of a child from sub-saharan Africa.
Bob laughs every time. In fact, Bob loves it and I can’t, for the life of me, see what harm it does.
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