My thoughts were even more profound than usual, owing to the fact that the night had started with a couple of hours at the Great American Beer Festival. Along with drive-thru car washes and electricity, the Great American Beer Festival is one of the greatest inventions in mankind's history. There were more beers there than there are towns in Colorado. There were more drunks in attendance than there are towns in this country -- and we numbered among them. You might not think it's possible to get knee-walking drunk an ounce of beer at a time, but as a couple of us proved, you'd be oh, so wrong.
The Bull & Bush was a natural closer bar. For starters, every semi-Neanderthal in our group could chuckle to himself every time he said the bar's name. But it had great homemade beer, too, and a good atmosphere conducive to pondering life's difficult questions. For example, why do all the mannequins in women's clothing stores look like they're either highly aroused or terminally hypothermic? Does Denver have a disproportionate population of professional bikers, or do the morons who tear around Wash Park in their logo-emblazoned, inappropriate spandex biker shorts and shirts actually think they look cool? Are Broncos fans the most obnoxious in the NFL, or simply the most annoying? Has Mark Kiszla ever played a down of football? Are women just trying to be ignorant -- or actively trying to anger guys when they make accusatory questions based on erroneous assumptions?
Todd and I were deep in conversation regarding the perceived manliness of sportswriters who take potshots from behind their laptops -- I'll bet in some cities, these guys feel like Salman Rushdie used to when Iran was still offering a ransom for his head -- when our hilarity was interrupted by one of the girls in the group. "Where's your wife?" she asked Todd.
"At home with our kids," he answered innocently.
Her reply was a look usually reserved for the bug that you scrape off the bottom of your shoe with disgust. Needless to say, that got Todd a little hot. An accomplished professional with a wife who is one of the most wonderful women I've ever met, he didn't appreciate having his attitude toward said wife -- and marriage in general -- judged by a person who had no idea what the hell she was talking about. (If she'd known that Todd, like me, is a graduate of the Air Force Academy, I could have understood the conclusions she was leaping to: Most of us have at least one woman chained to our basement wall. We can't help it; I think it was all that hazing.) Anyway, Todd laid into her. I wish I could remember even some of what he said, but I was too busy rolling around on the floor laughing and concentrating on catching my next breath.
Women's assumptions about men are often out of sync with reality. Assuming that every guy out on the town has left a resentful wife at home while he looks to get laid is a slap to both that guy and his wife. Assuming that a guy means it when he says "Yes" in answer to "Will you call me?" is unrealistic. Assuming that a guy wants to meet your parents after three weeks of dating is asking for trouble. Assuming that a guy is thinking six months down the road like you are is outright nuts, considering that most of us cannot decide what we want to eat even after burying our heads in the fridge for upwards of an hour.
Guys make assumptions, too, of course. Fortunately, ours are usually right on the money. The basic guy assumption: To women, it is a big deal. And by "it," I mean everything. It is a big deal that you don't remember what she wore on your first date. It is a big deal that you watch over twenty hours of football every weekend. It is a big deal that you and her girlfriends' boyfriends cut her dinner party short "just" to watch the Cubs win a post-season series for the first time in almost a century. It is a big deal that you are hung over the morning of your wedding. It is a huge deal that you ask the obstetrician what the halftime score is in the middle of labor. The bad thing is that most women will assure you that it is no big deal, because they don't want us to feel like they're acting unreasonably or being controlling. And so guys bumble right along thinking it actually is okay -- and then it's too late when our lifeless bodies are found beaten to death with a thousand-page diary recounting every stupid thing we ever did.
The key is communication. If you and your partner have an open dialogue, you can defuse these minor conflicts before they turn into major battles. Invite her out to the Bull & Bush with a few of the guys. If she bows out nicely but says you should go out anyway, don't worry. Assume everything's all right.
