Day 11: Not One Of Them A Sissy

Our waitress sets the frothy amaretto martini before me and the scotch on the rocks in front of Husband. She smiles.

I smile, too, and correct her.

“He’s secure in his manhood,” I say. “He’s not afraid to order girlie drinks. The whiskey is mine.”

Husband makes some sort of brawny pirate noise and tells her he likes movies without car chases, too. He grabs his fancy glass in a manly grip and takes a delicate sip.

She is confused. But she is young; she will learn (if she is lucky and pays attention). Perhaps we have set her on the path to enlightenment.

All she really walks away with, though (apart from her tip), is the conviction that she herself will NEVER turn into an old broad like me.

I had such thoughts, too, when I was waiting tables in my twenties. I want so badly to say, “Good luck with that, honey” – but she wouldn’t understand.

What I don’t understand today are Dude Wipes. I attract a bit of attention at the grocery store as I take this picture, but hey – it’s research.

There are a lot of butt wipes out there. Who knew? The soiled male has many discreet options; he needn’t resort to poufy pink packaging. Instead, he’ll pay big bucks to advertise his virility with a bold black bundle of Dude Wipes. It’s brilliant marketing: I poop, but I’m proud and potent.

Potent, but perhaps confused: Dude Wipes adherents are given explicit instructions. Grab one, wipe, and flush, dude.

What if a woman grabbed one? Would the earth continue spin on its axis? Come the apocalypse, you’ll know it’s not North Korean nukes – just Missy, misbehaving and making a mess.

8 thoughts on “Day 11: Not One Of Them A Sissy

  1. Sarah

    I’ve noticed this shift in marketing parity as well. It used to be only products for women were decorated and marked up:

    • I snorted my coffee watching this clip, Sarah. Problematic, because I was sneaking it in at work. Thanks!

  2. Mary M

    Across the aisle did you see the Dame Wipes? Lady Wipes? Rather than Dude, maybe they should come in coordinating sets of Duke and Duchess Wipes. (Baby wipes just won’t do?) Not sure I would believe in them if you didn’t have photographic proof!

    • Why can’t I come up with an idea like Dude Wipes? They’re the brain-child of 4 guys who roomed together after college and enjoyed big bean burritos, beer, and bathroom humor (yep, I checked it out). Now, they’re millionaires, with a whole line of Dude Wipe products.

  3. Tony

    I was long amused by ads for Irish Spring soap — manly men doing manly things in manly Ireland. Then, some wise ad person added this part: Attractive woman enters, grabs the soap and proclaims, “Manly, yes, but I like it, too!” What could be more brilliant? (Full disclosure: We use Irish Spring at our house. Does the fact that Wife uses it make her more manly or me less manly? Or is it simply cheap soap that doesn’t fry our skin and has a scent we can both tolerate? These are the questions that keep manly men and Scotch-drinking women up at night…)

  4. Long a convert to the usefulness of baby wipes, I never realized that my particular cleanliness was an affront to Holy Butchitude.

    • Of course being able to flush the wipe IS a nice perk!

      • Flushed wipes keep plumbers in business. They’re biodegradable, but when? Perhaps I’ll conduct a test. Dude Wipe vs. hunk of TP: Resolve to Dissolve.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *