Male Interaction Deciphered, Or 'Hello Bitch'!

*** continued from previous post ***


Anyway, now that the two alpha males of this particular table had established a somewhat tentative detente we turned our attentions away from the posturing, chest-thumping and possibly, although I admit to nothing, making Orangutan noises, back to our respective families.

Mom leaned close and whispered "That was some stupid male-dominance thing, wasn't it?"

If by 'stupid male-dominance' you mean the establishment of boundaries and physical superiority through verbal greetings and gestures then yes. That's what that was."

Your Mother, clearly impressed, shook her head and rubbed her temples in slow circular motions. "I will never understand you."

Now this seemed like a rather grand generalization, but I knew from whence it arose. See, your mom hadn't a clue as to the true nature of male interaction. I had been trying to explain this relatively easily deciphered subtext for many, many years but your Mother was simply incapable of grasping the importance, the grace, the nuance of manly interaction. Although, to her credit she had tried. I blame an abundance of estrogen or that cursed extra chromosome. Poor thing, it's a foreign language with nary a Rosetta Stone in sight. I can't count the times that we will be walking somewhere, and I'll pass a guy and say "How's it going?" To which, if he's a man at all, will replay with the carefully crafted "Not bad. How about you?" Which demands the proper, "Not bad at all." We then smile and go about our way.

Mom will usually say, "Did you know him?"

”Who?" I will reply, genuinely befuddled.

"That guy you just talked to."

"Him? No. No clue."

"Well then why did you talk to him like that?"

"Oh," I'll say, "completely necessary. That was a fight for superiority."

"What are you talking about?" She'll say, acting all confused.

"Honey, honey, honey. How many times must we go over this? Let me break it down for you. As we walked down the sidewalk I noticed this guy walking towards us. I didn't like the looks of him for a number of reasons."

"You knew you didn't like him when you saw him walking down the sidewalk? Why would you think that?"

"Well for one he was walking way to close to our side. Did you see how his shoulders were pulled back? That guy was looking for trouble. His head was held at a cocky angle and I didn't much care for the color of his shirt. I won't even get into his choice of footwear. So, as he approached I had to take the initiative and establish my dominance, showing him that his stance was neither frightening nor threatening in any way, and letting him know that I was not one to be trifled with.

So, the 'how's it going' was really ‘Hey chump. I see you. I see your posing and far from feeling threatened, I'm going to become the aggressor and call you out. This will, in no uncertain terms, show you that while you may be able to play this game with others it's not working on me. I am potentially more trouble than you need at the moment, so just keep walking.'

He then responds with any number of replies, each carrying their own meaning yet he chose 'Not bad'. Now this tells me that he has carefully considered the consequences and decided that perhaps he will back away slowly, never exposing a weak spot, while still maintaining the illusion of his alpha status but we both know that I’m allowing him that position for the time being. He then defers further with the 'How about you?’ showing that he's concerned that he put me at ease and suggesting that he is no threat. I recognize his backing down and acknowledge it with my 'Not bad at all', letting him know that I have no further business with him, at which point our interaction is complete, both of us secure of our place in the pecking order."

"And what would have happened had he replied differently?"

"Well," I say, "there are a million permutations of this little ritual, but most of them end with drawn weapons."

To which your mom says, "Men are insane."

"That's a distinct possibility. But let me ask you this; when we went to the clothing store the other day, and at the check-out you smiled at the girl behind the register and said 'hello' and she did the same, there was a slight edge to both of your voices. Are you telling me there was no subtext to that?"

"Oh sure there was. But that's different."

"So, indulge me. What does "Hello" and the reply "Hello" translate to in regular speech?"

Mom will pause for a moment. "Hello Bitch."

I rest my case.


*** the journey continues ***