Lesson in odds and numbers

[from special contributing writer]
[against my better judgment]

driving to work today
I observed a female driver
cut right in front of a pickup truck
causing him to have to drive
on to the shoulder to avoid hitting her.

This evidently angered the driver enough
that he hung his arm out his window
and flipped the woman off.

"Man, that guy is stupid"

I thought to myself.
I always smile nicely
and wave in a sheepish manner
whenever a female does anything
to me in traffic and here's why:

I drive 49 miles each way
every day to work,
that's 98 miles each day.
Of these,
16 miles each way
is bumper-to-bumper traffic.
Most of the bumper-to-bumper is on an 8 lane highway
so if you just look at the 7 lanes I am not in,
that means I pass a new car every 40 feet per lane.
Even though the rest of the 32 miles is not bumper to bumper,
I figure I pass at least another 4000 cars.
That brings the number to 36,000 cars I pass every day.

Statistically,
half of these are driven by females or 18,000.

In any given group of females 1 in 28 are having the worst day of their period.
That's 642.

According to Cosmopolitan,
70% describe their love life as dissatisfying or unrewarding.
That's 449.

According to the National Institute of Health,
22% of all females have seriously considered suicide or homicide.
That's 98.

And 34% describe men as their biggest problem.
That's 33.

According to the National Rifle Association
5% of all females carry weapons
and this number is increasing.

That means that
every single day,
I drive past
at least one
female that has a lousy love life,
thinks men are her biggest problem,
has seriously considered suicide or homicide,
is having the worst day of her period,
and is armed with a lethal weapon.

Flip one off?

I think not.

Words from the grave ... or ... how not to listen to your girlfriend and end up in the doghouse

[a story of personal pain]

so
what with all the drama?

well
I will tell you
that
most likely I am
being melodramatic
but its a great eye catcher no?

so the other day
Ambie and I
were heading out to
pick up some
tasty dinner treats

as is my custom
I check to make sure
the front door was locked
and
securely fastened
behind us

at which point
I reached into my
pocket
for my car keys
which
were conveniently located
on the
top of the stair railing
inside the house
where I wouldn't
forget them

as you can
imagine
this presented
an rather
awkward dilemma
not to mention
impugning my manhood
in front of my woman

as I was
by the simple click
of the latch
render impotent in
the simple matter
of feeding myself
and my family

I dashed
left
and right

checking
the garage and
sliding glass doors
to no
avail

desperate
there was
one last option

there is
a balcony
off the master bedroom
perchance that
door would be
unlocked

if not
getting down
would be difficult

We formulated a plan

taking advantage of her
experiences as a cheerleader in
her formative years
we decided
that I would

[using my hands]
[with fingers interlaced]
[together]

hoist her up into the air
where she could
grab onto
the second story railing
and pull herself over.

as
mid air
acrobatics had
not exactly been
common practice
for either of us
recently

[well at least]
[not since]
[the previous weekend]
[nudge nudge wink wink]

she was
understandably nervous

so while I was
gauging the
distance and
determining the
best position and
angle of attack

I was also
absent mindedly
attempting to calm
here fears

moving into
my determined position

[interlacing my fingers]
[hunching down to]
[create the appropriate]
[springboard effect]

as needed to launch her
to the second story of the house

as
often happens when
man (aka me) is
concentrating on one task

while attempting to
pacify a female at the same time

the listening skills are
replaced with a constant stream of

"I know"

"It'll be ok"

"trust me"

now in this
case

those should have been
sufficient as

she was worried about me
hurting myself, or her falling down,
or something going wrong.

so I thought
I was set

but
no

she had to
jump to the
unexpected

perhaps I should pause
here and explain something

perhaps
you will understand why
this came from
so far out in left field

Amber is about a two bits above 5feet tall
and she weighs 100lb and change
she generally wears either a size 1 or 2
depending on cut.

so when she came out with the

"but I am fat"

objection/concern

you can see why
it would catch me off guard
and why I
not identifying the difference
in word pattern before
responding

I replied,

"Yes I know"

Quick Note

Since there appears to
be some confusion.

Before you read the previous post
please understand the following
my love is not fat
she is not
"shrimp-sized" as marcoo
so gently put it

she is petite
or lil
as
I often say

the
issue was
that made
a common enough
comment among women

that
I
was not,
at least in that situation,
prepared for
and as such
responded
in
close to
the worst possible
way

[i think only]

["yeah but]
[i can just slap ya]
[an ride the wave in"]

[would be worse]

thank you
for
your
support