Sometimes, as I guy, I feel a little inadequate. Those occasions usually occur when I am hanging around other guys and guy things are being discussed.
You know the kinds of things I’m talking about: anything to do with cars or trucks and things like engines or rear differentials and stuff like power tools, guns, and stocks and bonds.
I do OK with talking about sports. However, ask me what’s under my vehicle’s hood and I’m perplexed.
I usually try to change the subject rather than expose my lack of knowledge.
For example, some guy will say to me: “That’s a nice truck. What size engine does it have?”
Seems like a harmless enough question. However, I know deep down the guy is trying to expose me as a fraud, a hoax, not a “real guy.”
My responses to these types of questions vary, depending on the place, time of day and weather conditions.
I’ve been known to do the following:
• Let out a loud scream, bend over and grab my chest while breathlessly beseeching, “Which side of the chest is the heart on again?”
• Look past the guy and say “Are my eyes deceiving me or are those the Victoria’s Secret models?
• Or, if all else fails: “Want another beer?”
Usually, one of those responses will get me off the hook long enough to change the subject to something I feel more comfortable talking about such as sports, or maybe sports.
But I’m not always successful disguising my lack of guy knowledge.
A while back, I was in the laundry room of my house looking for the valve that would shut off the water flow to the outside spigot. I was having an irrigation installer measure for water pressure outside and he asked me to turn off the water for a bit so he could do some testing.
Have you ever noticed how many dials, knobs and switches are in a laundry room leading to the various pipes? It’s amazing. It’s as if some sadistic plumber increases the number options just to confuse guys like me.
I can just hear him talking to his plumbing partner: “Let’s put a couple extra knobs up there in these incredibly hard-to-reach places just to mess with the guy who buys this house.”
And of course, these knobs are never marked.
Eventually I thought I’d found the valve to shut the water off to the outside. I told the irrigation guy the water was off. Shortly after, I heard a splashing sound. I looked outside just in time to see water coursing onto the guy’s work boots.
I think I may have even heard a swear word or two. I’m not sure, I couldn’t hear clearly over the roaring sound of the water.
