A Note to the Glib, Gauche Guy in Guccis

Pssst…hey you…yeah, you Mr. GoldChainAroundYourFleshyNeck, with your J.Crew khakis, shiny Italian leather loafers, and pink polo shirt that matches your soft-as-a-baby’s-bottom face that clearly just came back from a facial at the spa.  Yeah, you who reek of too much cologne and look at me with such cold disdain and a greasy smirk that says I am so out of your league, lady.  I’m Mr. BigCheeseFormerJockAboutCampus. You look like a nobody. 

And this because I merely smiled at you, as I often do at people that happen to be standing beside me in line.  For one thing, I grew up in the country in eastern North Carolina.  That’s the way we were down there—no one knew a stranger.  Smiling and saying Hey is just a way to make a human connection.  That’s all.  Your carefully moussed hair and Rolex watch mean nothing to me. I do not wish to ravish you—I find you less than ravishing.   

What is it about some men and their egos? I love where I live now, but I’m afraid there really do seem to be more men like that around these parts.  If I had to sum it up in a few words, I’d say, “More macho, less manly.  Bigger ego, less to show for it.”   They are also overall less courteous, in ways like holding doors for people who happen to be behind them.  That is, unless that person is a nubile young chick with big breasts.  I’ve had it happen countless times here:  a simpering, middle-aged man falls all over himself to open the door for CuteBlondCoedYoungEnoughToBeHisDaughter whom I am right behind, only to let it slam in my face.  It’s interesting to note that I moved here from the Big City (Raleigh) and almost never had that happen.  In fact, folks regularly held doors for me there.

It’s not just me either.  My daughter experienced the same thing with the so-called “popular” guys when she was in high school here.  If she so much as glanced at them, they would give her the same contemptuous, dismissive look.  By her senior year, she had perfected a look in return that said, “Frankly, prep boy, I find you slightly less attractive than a baboon’s rear end.”

Now, please don’t send me comments saying Go back to Raleigh then, Pruneface.   I don’t want to go back to Raleigh.  I miss a lot of things about it, but I’m a mountain girl now. I feel at home in the hills here, and I’ve met some nice folks, too.  And, no, I’m not bitter because I’m past my prime.  I’ve pretty much come to terms with the fact that men don’t generally give me a second glance these days. I don’t want those men to simper at me—I’m just looking for a bit of kindness and courtesy.  But I’m curious—why are some men like that?  Why can’t I just be friendly without their bloated egos convincing them that I’m flirting with them?  Because, the truth is, I’m kind of like my daughter.  I find them, in general, slightly less attractive than a baboon’s bottom.  

A qualification is in order:  Not all men are like that here.  My husband works with some very mannerly, manly men.  Also I should say that I don’t hate men (but I might be a little misanthropic).  Some of my best friends are men.  Really.  And a note to my fellow liberated women:  Yeah, I know. I can open my own damn door.  But I value the courtesy and kindness behind such actions.  You are free to feel differently.

So, Mr. GoldChain, go on thinking you’re God’s gift to women.  My husband’s ten times better looking anyway, and he’s toned and muscular from swinging a hammer and hefting wood all day. I like men with calloused hands, not calloused hearts. I like men who open doors for anyone, be they fat or thin, young or old, rich or poor.  And, hey, you might want pull in that gut—it’s bigger than your ego.  Coeds don’t like men who are soft and flaccid.  Oh, and about that facial you got at the spa?  Did they tell you it would make you look younger and firm up those sagging jowls?  Well, you better go get your money back.  You were robbed.


9 Responses to “A Note to the Glib, Gauche Guy in Guccis”

  1. lucky pennies Says:

    Yeeeaaahh!!! You tell ’em! Too bad they can’t use their money to buy the kind of decency most normal folks have.

    I also value men who open doors. Even as our values and customs change, and even as modern society evolves, common courtesy shouldn’t change.

  2. June Says:

    “I am woman, hear me roar…” 🙂

  3. jennifersaylor Says:


    Menfolk, when a woman you don’t know smiles at you, she is usually being nice. BIG points for being nice and smiling right back. There’s a big difference between a friendly smile and a come-on; they’re not hard to tell apart. When you see a smile, assume a kind heart, not misplaced sexual interest.

  4. Shannon Hodgins Says:

    O.k., I’m going to sound incredibly non p.c. in my reply….but….sounds like some of the Yanks from ’round here must be migrating.

    I have a pet peeve about door manners. Allow the person in motion to pass through said doorway before you begin your journey through, hold the door open for the other person, or at the minimum hold it open in a backwards fashion as you travel through and smile nicely at people. You’re in somebody’s physical space for a minute so make it nice.

    I can remember being bowled over in doorways- – -one incident in particular when I was about 8 months pregnant, carrying a toddler and a diaperbag. Chicago bills itself as Midwest, but it isn’t. True Yank in the manners realm. Culture, art, literature abound, but manners not so much.

    I AM glad for the Southern emphasis on manners as it makes our world a livable and friendlier place. What’s scary is when I’m up here for so long without a visit down South that I start acting like them out of sheer frustration and anxiety……..

    O.k., rant there too. But I *Feel* the angst. Shannon

  5. CountryDew Says:

    I think it’s a generational thing. I find older men basically are very mannerly; the younger, not so much. In fact I find the younger generation rude overall, regardless of gender. Holding doors and “yes ma’am” went the way of the 8-track player.

  6. Sara Says:

    I agree with the generational manners thing. But who’s to blame? They’re our kids….It’s our responsiblitly to teach them to say please and thank you, hold the door, and smile politely. I think that part of their problem (and I’m stealing this concept from someone else cuz I like it) is that we’ve been so set on making them feel that they can do anything, that they’re great, we compliment every dag-gone thing they do, even if it’s crap. They’ve grown up with a sense of entitlement….Ugh, I could go on! It’s not easy to teach manners. It require vigilance and consistancy. Like with puppies, you can’t just tell them once and assume the lesson took.
    Okay I’ll get down off my soapbox now.
    Too bad about the dude in the pink shirt. He probably felt threatened by your greeting. Maybe he’ll learn, if he stays a while, that it’s okay to smile back.

  7. blueridgebluecollargirl Says:

    Wow. Those were some GREAT comments, y’all. I feel so fortunate to have such articulate and thoughtful people reading my blog! I love the way the comment section sometimes ends up becoming a lively discussion. Thank you all for reading and for writing such interesting comments. I always look forward to them. I feel so much better having gotten that rant about Mr. GoldChain off my chest!

  8. bluemountainmama Says:

    hehehe!!!! loved it! i am fortunate to have a gentlemanly husband, even though he is of the young generation probably most people are referring to… and he’s already teaching our 5 year old son to hold the door open for ladies. myt son walks ahead of me, opens the door, and says. “you first, mommy!” doesn’t get much cuter than that! i guess i’m a little spoiled, having always lived in the south. but i CAN say… the snowbirds (retirees from NY and NJ that spend winters in FL and summers in NC) are a different story. i’ve been bowled over by them numerous times, with their carts in grocery stores, in lines, etc. so i’ve had a taste of the rudeness…..

  9. ben (aka guitar maniac) Says:

    I know what it is…these men are testosterone-driven, but they really don’t have much…just enough when “turned on” by these brainless nubile ladies to summon up the strength to prop an already sprung door with their flabby arms. I’m probably going to become one of those white-collar, fleshy men you talk of, but I sure as hell can summon up the strength to open the door for *anyone*.

    And as far as high-school preps are concerned…I’d rather die of mustard gas suffocation than go through that again.

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