Life, Love, and Biscuits and Gravy

the theatrics of a breakfast lover
JANUARY 19, 2012 7:15AM

One Small Punch for Women's Liberation

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I was down at Starbucks having my daily dose of quick pick me up, a quadruple espresso full milk chocolate caramel hot venti latte, when I realized I had forgotten to turn the coffee pot off back home.  Jill, my off-and-on lover, had stayed with me the night before and without doubt was still sleeping, so I gave her a call to see if she could turn it off for me.  I figured that if I was nice enough to let her sleep in my bed and use my shower while I was in it, the least she could do was turn my coffee pot off.  


When she answered the phone I could tell she wasn’t thrilled that I called her at 9a.m. I made a proposition to her she couldn’t refuse.  I offered another nights stay for free and I wouldn’t even make her get up to cook breakfast, if she would turn the coffee pot off.  When asking a woman who is into being one of those strong women, who choices free will over most things, to do something that requires waking up, it is important to make it sound appealing.   She ended up arguing for 10 minutes about whether leaving it on until noon, when she planned to wake up, would really hurt anything.  I asked her if it would be alright for me to have a girl over until she got there tonight; claiming it was the same difference.  She didn’t see it my way and hung up the phone.  


Jill had recently been reading about women’s liberation, a subject I had tried hiding from her the past few months, and there were books all around the house with titles ranging from, “Daring To Be Bad: Radical Feminism in America”; “Women and Socialism”; and “How Cooking for Your Man Enslaves You.”  She had cut off all her womanly duties, from cooking to cleaning and even sex.  I was in such a hard spot that I was forced to watch Rambo and Die hard (all of them) while she was reading those books.  I figured that that was the best way to fight women’s liberation movements.  If Sylvester Stalone and Bruce Willis couldn’t help me put an end to feminism, I didn;t know what could. 


 I got to work and was well along with my day when I got a text from her: “I locked your door on the way out.  Thanks for waking me up to turn a coffee pot off that was already off.  Next time, just remember what you did.” I got home that night and found no beer in the fridge.  I was getting more upset by the minute about her new found female freedoms.  As if no sex, no food, and an unclean house wasn’t enough, now she forgot to replenish the beer in the fridge.


 Jill came over that night emptied handed and asking where supper was.  I didn’t understand where she got off asking me for supper when she couldn’t even keep beer in the fridge.  I ended up ordering a pizza for carry out and picked up some beer on the way home.  “All you ever do is drink beer and watch TV,” she complained, “You never want to sit and talk.”  


“Well last time we talked you threw a fist at me which just happened to belong to you.”  


“That was days ago,” she said, “I’ve changed since then.  I’m learning to be a woman who is in control of her emotions.”  


Jill opened the discussion with telling me about a friend of hers who was having relationship problems.  Jill claimed that her friend’s husband never pays her any attention anymore.  I told Jill that if her friend put out more and made breakfast every day then her husband might notice her more often.  Jill retorted with, “If she did that, then their relationship would be all about sex.” I then told her I didn’t see any problem with that.  Jill decided we shouldn’t talk anymore and made a command decision that we should go to bed.  Thinking that this might be the night I relieve her of her womanly imprisonments, freeing her from her bra, I didn’t argue. We went to sleep shortly after getting in bed.  


When I woke up at 5 o’clock the next morning, I got out of bed and started getting dressed.  I looked upon the sleeping woman and decided that the best way to end this liberation movement was to wake her up and have her go make breakfast.  When her eyes opened and she heard me tell her to go make some biscuits and gravy, she argued that I said if she got up to turn the coffee pot off yesterday, then she could sleep in.  I told her, “Actually the coffee pot was already off, so you didn’t turn anything off, therefore negating the contract. Now go make some breakfast.” 


Without even thinking about the possibilities of getting out of bed and making her loving boyfriend a healthy and filling breakfast, she slugged me right across my left jaw.  So much for being a woman in control of her emotions.  

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♥╚═══╝╚╝╚╝╚═══╩═══╝─╚for sharing your POV.
Fun. I liked the casual tone with a distinct edge.
This a great account of what the 1950's were 'old lady gets a"whack in the chops" when she talks back, like the others day when we were arguing about spousal abuse.....