The Kitchen

The following is an incredibly well written letter from us menfolk to you ladies written by the always brilliant and witty (not to mention my former boss) Streeter Seidell. Please read it. It will save us both alot of confusion going forward.

streeter:

Dear Women,

For too long now we’ve misunderstood each other. We are both rational creatures—to a point—but due to our unique hormonal makeups we act in ways that baffle each other. This will never stop, of course, but we can each attempt to shed some light on our thoughts and actions in an effort to understand each other more. Speaking for men, allow me to say…

When we go out to dinner, it’s perfectly fine to order the same thing as we do. You, too, can get the chicken if that’s what you want. We don’t mind. We’d rather eat our entire meal than trade plates halfway through and eat the rest of something neither of us really wanted.

A side salad as your main course isn’t a meal and instead of making us think you’re skinny or have a small appetite, it makes us think you’re a liar. Which you are, if you pretend that a side salad is what you really wanted to eat for dinner.

Letting us eat the last stick, popper, wing, finger, fry or ring is, to us, a silent gesture of caring and kindness that will not be easily forgotten.

And let us pay. We like to pay. It makes us feel like our fathers: responsible, chivalrous, successful. Don’t argue with us over splitting the check, even if you’re doing it so as to not confirm the meal as a date. No guy, upon being turned down for a second date, has ever thought, “But things were going so well! She let me pay!”

After a while, though, you can pay. We like a free meal as much as anyone.

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