Cardiology: A Study in Women’s Obsession with Greeting Cards
Girls are different from guys in lots of ways. Girls are responsible for the Lifetime Movie network. Guys are responsible for keeping the Saw franchise afloat. Guys ensure UFC will be making boatloads of money and tacky t-shirts. Girls ensure Uggs will continue to make ass ugly boots. Girls and guys even handle similar events differently.
To wit, it was recently a buddy’s birthday. So a bunch of us guys got together and took him out. We made sure he was drinking good beer (and no, that does not mean Coors Banquet. When will you people get it through your thick skulls that just because it is brewed with our tap water, anything Coors makes is skunkpiss?) We laughed and exchanged randy stories, like what we’d do to our cute waitress who was clearly digging us. We’d slap the birthday boy’s back a few times, and ply him with chicken wings and potato skins. At the end of the night, we’d pool our money together and get him a handy from that cute brunette who always tells us, “Well, I don’t usually do this kind of thing. But, OK, just this once.” Then we drive our drunk buddy home and leave him at the wrong house and anxiously await his call the next day. All good, clean fun. You will note at no time did any of us get him a card.
Cards are for girls. Only girls give cards. I don’t think I’ve ever given a card to a buddy for any life event; birthday, wedding, funeral, birth of children, etc. In fact, it’s usually handled the same way as his birthday; a slap on the back and beer. Conversely, girls will be more than happy to spend in excess of 40 fucking minutes trying to find just the right card. Huh? I’ve seen this sad practice in action; the handling of dozens of cards that all say the same GD thing. But, no, that card is “not Jesica enough.” So the search will continue in the hope of finding Jesica’s perfect wedding card. “Um, dear,” I ask, “just what kind of card are we looking for here?” “Oh, you know, a card that says ‘congrats on your wedding, but I really think you could have done better than Brandon.’” Aye carumba.
By way of contrast, here’s what guys look for in cards:
Is there a cartoon character or hot chick?
Is it at least attempting to be humorous? It may not be funny at all, but attempt is everything.
Flip to the back to see how much it costs. Repeat until price matches friendship.
In another instance, I am with This Week’s Girl, as she drags me to another Russell’s Convenience. After watching her go through roughly 322 birthday cards, she finally settles on one. Girls cards suck. Much like your paltry future, dear reader, they are full of lies and false hope. The winner is a card that says “Another year older?” on the front. Open it up and it says “Another year hotter.” Huh? Why do girls’ cards have to lie? Another year hotter? More like another year closer to hot flashes. Who the hell gets hotter as they age? Newsflash, kiddies; after about 25 aging sucks monkey balls. You might be able to hold on till 30, but then it’s all downhill. All those late nights, alcohol and spray paint catch up to you. Youth is the number one cause of aging. You start looking a “hard 30.” Hell, some of our servants are already a “hard 13.”
As if that’s not bad enough, the card also plays “I Will Survive” upon opening. Doesn’t that negate the whole ‘another year hotter’ sentiment? If you are in fact ‘another year hotter’ (which science has never proven), shouldn’t one be thriving and not surviving? Is there another stereotypical/cliched/hackneyed girl power song to play?
In fact, as my eyes scan down the aisle, I see the exact same scenario being played out. Dozens of girls picking up every card, and poring over it like they are picking out a OB/GYN. In some cases, there is a guy right behind them; rolling his eyes , making his hand into a gun shape and pointing it at his head. How cavalier at least they are turning the gun on themselves as opposed to their girlfriend. Who says chivalry is dead? We exchange looks that say, “Brother, my brother, I feel your pain.” Then I check out the ass of his girl as he checks out the ass of my girl. A sly, “Heyyy, looks like you’re doing all right over there” glance is traded. Guys don’t need cards, we have our own glance system worked out that says so much more.
There’s a reason Hallmark doesn’t make a similar, guy centric card. “Hey, Brah” on the front of the card, “Another year older?” The inside says, “Another year handsomer. Or is it ‘more handsome’? Or more distinguished?” Hallmark doesn’t make cards like that because no self respecting guy would buy that shit. All guys’ cards should just have “Dude” on the front and “Let’s go get wasted’ on the inside. Works for birthdays, christenings, weddings, Arbor Day, anniversaries, the whole deal. Hell, let’s go one step further, and make the inside erasable. That way you can just pass the card on to the next guy. Genius, no one steal that idea.
Guys don’t care about cards, they are a waste to a dude. Instead, just give me the 3.50. And if you absolutely feel the need to give me a card for any occasion, be forewarned that I will open it in the following manner. Rip the envelop open and throw it on the floor. Take card, turn it upside down. If money falls out, I will thank you. If no money falls out, the card will join the just as useless envelop on the floor. Why waste our time?