"Most men are cheaters—you know that, don’t you? I could meet a cheater tomorrow if I wanted to. But I’ve had enough men. I’m 98 years old, what the hell do I want a man for? What can I give him? What can he give me? Nothing." -Esquire.com
This tidbit from a soon to be centenarian (not withstanding premature death) is reassuring; old age doesn't necessarily equate with mildewed moxy. But it brought up an interesting point. In certain LA circles of the female persuasion, a good deal of men-bashing occurs, usually with a hilarious "men are pigs" pronouncement that is the ending to a sordid tale of romance gone wrong.
Then logic sets in. Doesn't a straight man need a woman to participate in the undercover sex game? For every male cheater who is castigated, what about the woman who agreed? Albeit, certain philanderers tell little fibs and say they are single, so women, wise up. Do a background check before accepting the crown jewels if you have any doubt. Cyber snooping is frighteningly easy; sites abound on the internet if you have even a modicum of researching smarts. For the really big spender, a $19.95 investment can deliver the dish, unless your current suitor is a CIA agent. (You're in luck if the dude is an FBI agent. They are too cocky to hide their extra-curricular activities while on duty, as was recently revealed.)
I once asked my husband about his life as a single man. He is handsome, highly educated (and intelligent), French, born and raised in Paris. While he demurred from giving me any bait that would allow for a gory cache of trivia, he did remind me of one important factor. It takes a woman to create a heterosexual male cheater. And he also clued me in to the fact that many a married woman is open season as well because..."they are the most desparate." Bon Dieu.
Some may blame the above feedback on the infamous French culture. However, nowadays, the more woman that enter the work force in the US, the more the playing field is leveled with regards to who is the cheater and who is the cheatee - one of the fringe benefits of our quasi-equal workforce.
In truth, we go through the birth process alone, squeezed and shoved through a narrow pulsating passageway. We also die alone even if surrounded by loved ones, or hospital machines, or in a deserted no man's land under a bridge. In between birth and death, we live in our own heads, guided by our singular perceptions and projections, totally accountable for what goes on between our two ears.
So as we maneuver through this in between time called life, the best way to survive what has been termed "the war of the sexes" is to propose a peace treaty. If we regard each other as human beings first and foremost, one being in many bodies with real hearts and real feelings, then perhaps the male-female duel will fade into the distant past as a relic of less civilized times.
In the meanwhile, whether you are the hunter or the hunted, keep your wits about you; no-holds-barred-awareness is the key to survival...and better yet, well being.
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