A is for Auto, B is for Blonde
Inside every woman there is a helpless blond (blond the mentality, not the hair color) with long eyelashes and a lot of cleavage. Whenever there is a spider to be killed or a plate to be gotten off the high shelf, a woman can effortlessly melt into this persona and cause every man in a 20 yard radius to feel compelled to come to her aid.
Recently, I had cause to fully explore this side of myself. My car, having been fully paid off, is now falling to bits. One of my co-workers informed me that my rear tire was dangerously low. Great. Drawing on my extensive knowledge of cars, I asked the following question, "Um, does that mean I should put air in it?"
Now, I am a college educated person. And I consider myself completely capable of reading my owner's manual to find to correct tire pressure. I am probably even capable of figuring out how to work one of those air filler-upper thingies they have at gas stations. However, it's a lot more efficient so simply set back feminism about 50 years and get a man, who already knows what he's doing, to do it for me.
I'm sure the nice folks at the tire shop had better things to do then fill up my tires for free, but the power of the helpless blond is not to be underestimated. He filled up all of my tires and even gave me a tire pressure gauge!
This power is nearly irresistible, and as such should be used carefully. Only bring it out if the need is dire, or the pickle jar particularly stubborn!
1 comments:
Love it !! You need to blog more often ! If only for your eldest cousins entertainment !!!
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