Male Bashing

“Besides he dresses horribly…”

“He smells like he never showers; count yourself lucky you don’t have to lay with his rancid-ass anymore.”

“I saw him kissing some slut outside a gig last week….it was disgusting, she looked like she belonged in an alley”

My turn:  “….and he has eczema..!”

Everyone turned and looked at me.

Face-palm moment.

All my girlfriends turned and said: “M…what?”

Male-bashing is primarily a post breakup ritual.

It exhibits itself other times as well, but post-breakup, it’s a compliant code of conduct.

Most days I’m pretty colourful with my insults, but today, for the 5^th day in a row, I was pretty exhausted.

I couldn’t think of anything more insulting to say about “J”.

Back-story?

Him and “L” we dating less than a year when she found out…wait for it…he cheated and he was bi-sexual.

She suspected his propensity for all things feminine, but the cheating was of course, unacceptable.

She was the conservative and her male counterpart would always be the wild-emotionally-vulnerable-need-to-be-fixed-man-whore, which is fine, because I can always count on a soap-dramasque story to entertain my inbox.

My problem was Keeping Up Appearances.

Selfish?

There were only so many Friday nights I could spend picking out flaws on men who I hardly met, let alone do so objectively. I know it’s silly to even think that in any girlfriend support situation, objectivity is priority, but hey-ho, that’s me and my “benefit of the doubt” theory.

Tonight of course was wine, tissues and male-bashing.

“K” started it off, and alternatively, as a group should, we continued bashing.

I hoped a slow-witted comment on eczema would bring comedy and maybe change the subject.

It didn’t, so I poured another glass a wine…

“M, you know L has eczema as well, how could you say that with such disdain? It’s a sensitive issue! It’s no one’s choice to get eczema!”

I drank more…

“I mean really, if you can’t support L right now, maybe you should go.”

I would, except my Friday night had nothing else on the agenda.

“Sorry.”

“No it’s alright M, don’t worry. He never took care of himself, and he was bad in bed!”

Here we go; the good stuff.

“I mean what kinda of man needs a weight lifting belt for sex? And you know after he finished, he always did a celebration dance, like he scored a touchdown, and when I gave oral, he smoked and had the nerve to drop the ashes in my hair!”

Fits of giggles across the room and a snort from me.

Geez, women put up with anything these days.

I felt sorry for L and proud. She ended it, but I wonder how much horrific or humiliating things she put up with before the cheating came to light.

“…ugh and I remember our second date when he took me to a sports bar and sneaked in McDonalds burgers because he didn’t want to pay for bar lunch. I thought it was frugal and thoughtful, but looking back, he never cared!”

Bitch, please.

“…and my underwear always went missing! I had to start buying the cheap stuff now, ugh, vile right?”

“Totally! And ew!”

I didn’t say much after that, solely because it was all being said for me.

I know I would get the phone call the next morning chastising me for being the idiot at the ritual, but what they saw as unsupportive, I saw as preserving my perception of relationships….and being bored.

I sent L flowers the next day with lovely a hopeful message.

Did I mean it?

Of course!  Isn’t it customary to end the male-bashing weekend with empty messages of hope?