Vive la difference

Based on a piece by Dave Barry

 One of the most overlooked yet fascinating distinctions in the world is the difference between men and women. At first glance, it might seem like we’re quite similar—after all, we share the same basic anatomy. But once you dig a little deeper, you begin to notice that men and women think and feel in remarkably different ways. This story illustrates those differences so clearly that you’ll never forget it.

Imagine a guy named Fred who’s interested in a woman named Martha. He asks her out to a movie, and she says yes. They have a great time. A few days later, they go out to dinner and enjoy themselves again. They start seeing each other regularly, and before long, they’re no longer dating anyone else.

Then, one evening while driving home, Martha suddenly realizes something and says aloud, “Do you know that tonight marks exactly six months since we started seeing each other?”

Silence fills the car.

To Martha, the silence is deafening. She starts to worry: Is he upset that I mentioned it? Maybe he feels trapped in this relationship, or perhaps he thinks I’m pressuring him into something he’s not ready for.

Meanwhile, Fred is thinking: Wow, six months already.

Martha, now even more anxious, thinks: But wait, am I really sure I want this relationship to continue? Sometimes I wish I had more space to figure out what I truly want. Where is this going? Are we heading toward marriage? Children? A lifetime together? Am I ready for that? Do I even know this guy?

And Fred? He’s thinking: Let’s see, that means we started dating in February, right after I got the car serviced. I wonder if I’m due for an oil change.

Martha’s mind races: He’s upset. I can tell. Maybe he wants more from this relationship, more commitment, but he’s afraid I don’t feel the same way. Maybe he’s sensed my hesitation before I even realized it myself.

Fred is still lost in thought: I should have the transmission checked again. It’s not shifting smoothly, and I don’t care what those mechanics say—it’s definitely not the weather causing it. It’s 87 degrees outside, for crying out loud.

Martha, feeling increasingly guilty, thinks: He’s angry, and I can’t blame him. I’ve put him through so much, and I’m still not sure how I feel.

Fred, still thinking about his car, realizes: They’ll probably tell me the warranty’s expired. Those scumbags.

Martha, nearly in tears, thinks: Maybe I’m being unrealistic, waiting for a knight in shining armor when I’m sitting right next to a good man. A man who cares about me, and who I care about too. And now I’m hurting him with my silly, romantic fantasies.

Fred is now thinking: Warranty? I’ll show them a warranty…

“Fred,” Martha says softly.

“What?” Fred replies, startled.

“Please don’t torture yourself like this,” Martha says, her eyes filling with tears. “I never should have…I just feel so…” She breaks down, sobbing.

“What?” says Fred, completely bewildered.

“I’m such a fool,” Martha cries. “I know there’s no knight in shining armor. I know that. It’s silly. There’s no knight, and there’s no horse.”

“No horse?” Fred echoes, confused.

“You must think I’m such an idiot,” Martha says.

“No!” Fred quickly replies, glad to finally know the right answer.

“I just need some time,” Martha says, her voice trembling.

Fred, thinking as fast as he can, comes up with what he hopes is a safe response. “Yes,” he says.

Martha, deeply moved, touches his hand. “Oh, Fred, do you really feel that way?” she asks.

“What way?” Fred asks, bewildered.

“About time,” Martha says.

“Oh,” Fred replies. “Yes.” Martha turns to look at him, her eyes searching his, and Fred becomes increasingly nervous about what she might say next—especially if it involves a horse. Finally, she speaks.

“Thank you, Fred,” she says.

“Thank you,” Fred replies.

Fred takes Martha home, and while she lies in bed that night, a conflicted, tortured soul, crying until dawn, Fred gets back to his place, grabs a bag of Doritos, and settles in to watch a rerun of a college basketball game between two South Dakota junior colleges he’s never heard of. A small voice in the back of his mind tells him something significant happened in the car, but he’s pretty sure he’ll never figure out what, so he decides it’s best not to think about it.

The next day, Martha will call her closest friend, or maybe two, and they’ll talk about the situation for hours. They’ll analyze every word, every gesture, every nuance, considering all the possible meanings and implications. They’ll continue discussing it for weeks, maybe even months, without ever reaching a definite conclusion, but never losing interest.

Meanwhile, Fred, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Martha’s, will pause just before serving, frown, and ask, “Hey, Norm, did Martha ever own a horse?”

And that, folks, is the difference between men and women.