Here I am in the locker room with my friend David, who has been a
Hollywood bachelor for two decades, who has gone out with so many
models and actresses that he's good friends with the people who run
the model agencies-here's David, suave man of the world, telling me
that men are the romantics, not women.
"No, no, no, David," I protested. "Women are romantic. Women want
flowers and candy and all that stuff."
"No, they don't," David said. "Women want the respect and
admiration of a man, and they know flowers are a sign of respect
from a man. But they don't care about the flowers; they don't moon
and ooh and aah and sigh, except for our benefit. They don't have
any of those romantic feelings men think they do. Men have the
romantic feelings. Women're much colder and more practical."
I disagreed.
"Okay," David said. "We're sitting in the locker room, right?"
"Right."
"Have you ever had a locker-room conversation about women--you know,
the way women think we do, talking in explicit detail about we did
with our dates the night before?"
"No," I said. "I never have."
"Neither have I," David said. "But you've been accused of having
such conversations by a woman?"
"Yes, sure." I couldn't count the number of times a woman had said
she didn't want me talking about her to my male friends.
"You know why women think we have these explicit conversations?
Because they do, that's why. Women talk about everything."
I knew this was true. I had long ago learned of the frankness of
women among themselves, and of their tendency to assume that men
were equally frank, when, as far as I could tell, men were actually
quite discreet.
"You see," David said, "each sex assumes the opposite sex is just
the way they are. So women think men are explicit, and men think
women are romantic. Eventually that becomes a stereotype that
nobody questions. But it's not accurate at all."
David insisted on his view: women were stronger, tougher, more
pragmatic, more interested in money and security, more focused on
the underlying realities of any situation. Men were weaker, more
romantic, more interested in the symbols than the reality--in short,
living out a fantasy.
"I'm telling you," David said.
"What about the idea of the nurturing female?" I said.
"Only for children," he said. "Not for men." He shook his head
sadly, "Did you ever wish a woman would send you flowers?"
The question caught me off guard. A woman send me flowers?
"Sure. Send you flowers, a nice note, thanks for a lovely evening,
the whole bit."
It seemed such a strange idea. But as I considered it, it seemed as
if it would be terrific.
"I'm telling you," David said, "we're the romantics. Work it out."
