The Drill
By: Bill Wucinich
Gender is defined as "a set of two or more categories as masculine, feminine, neuter into which words are divided according to sex, animation, psychological associations or some other characteristic, and that determines agreement with or the selection of modifiers, referents or grammatical forms." In other words, it separates males from females.
For example, the male gender doesn't cry, likes the sound of the snap when a cool one is popped, hates liver and onions, will sit shirtless in 30-degree weather at a football game but hates doctors. Get the point? The male is…stronger.
On the other hand, the female gender loves knitting, afternoon coffee with the girls, summers at the pool, weeding flowerbeds, can't lift anything heavier than 12 lbs. And is at a loss when confronting anything mechanical. See what I mean? The female is…weaker.
Now, keep the above in mind while I tell you a story.
One evening my wife and I went to the mall. We parked, as usual, outside the Sears entrance. One hour and four stores later, we re-entered Sears on our way back to the car. We strolled by cosmetics, women's shoes and men's clothing and were within 100 feet of the exit door, when my wife suddenly stopped. We were in an aisle that had sheets and pillowcases on one side and tools and paints on the other.
By force of habit, I instinctively turned toward the sheets and pillowcases. But, my wife, after taking two steps toward towels, turned sharply back to the tools. She stopped in front of the hand tool section and picked up one of the drills. Her face was glowing like the time she picked out our first dog at the Humane Society.
"Bill," she quivered. "I've always wanted one of these. Look, it's a 14.4-volt, cordless, 3/8" drill/driver set."
Now, this would not have been bad had we been the only two people in the store. Unfortunately, however, it happened in front of every longhaired, bearded, tattooed, Harley Davidson tank topped construction worker in the city. There were so many of them that I thought that Local 500 of the Ironworkers of America was holding its annual convention. All were looking at me. Not saying anything - just grimacing. Meanwhile, oblivious to it all, my lady was continuing her description of the little beauty she was tenderly holding in her hands.
"Not only does it have 14.4 volts, but because it's on sale, it comes with two interchargeable batteries and a two post charger. I've got to have this."
Don't leave, it gets worse. Because, even as we waited for the salesperson, my wife still wasn't finished eliminating me from the world of Mono A Mono. Looking sweetly at me, she cooed, "by the way, the sheer curtains you picked out at JoAnn Fabrics will work perfectly in our den.
