Jazmine Hughes revealed “The Secret Fantasies of Adults” in The New Yorker (“Yes, The New Yorker”” which, while enjoyable for all readers, skews towards the feminine perspective. Here, for your consideration, are some thoughts lurking deep within the male psyche.
Selling Your Old Car for More Than Its Worth
In life, you are going to make thousands of business transactions. Almost all of them are going to be on other people’s terms. Even the ones you make with the store clerk who reminds you of the kid in seventh grade whom Sister Rose Veronica ordered everyone to treat nicely. Yes, even that store clerk has it over you. And so, one day, you put your Volkswagen Past on Craigslist. You tell yourself, what the heck, list it $500 above book value and some goober comes along, pulls out a thick wad, and pays your price without even asking to take a test drive. Two months later, the goober’s used Passat breaks down on I-95 in South Carolina. A state trooper who pulled over to help gets suspicious and discovers $3 million in cocaine in the trunk. That’s the goober’s problem, not yours.
Mandatory Use of All Vacation Time
Your boss calls you in and says, “Look, I appreciate that you did not take all your vacation time last year because of the last-minute request on the Draper account. That cannot happen again this year. I need you rested and ready. After you finish with the Hirohito people in Tokyo, the company is going to send you to Hanoi for a week. I heard cell phone service there is terrible. Oh, and take your girlfriend. All expenses paid. By us.”
A Shorter Commute
A bitter, old man who lives five minutes from your office died of a heart attack in the act of coitus with a prostitute. The guy who caught your pass for the winning touchdown in the state high school championship is the EMT who responded to the prostitute’s 911 call. You take your morning jog by the old, bitter man’s house the next day. A guy who resembles Jeff Lebowski is sitting on the porch, sucking down a Natty Bo. You stop and talk about how the Patriots sucked last Sunday. You and he suck down a couple more Natty Bo’s. He is the bitter, old man’s son. You ask him what he’s “gonna do with this run-down shack.” You offer him $20,000 less than you know what the house is worth, all cash. You just trimmed 25 minutes from your daily commute to work.
Two Hours of Absolute, Goddamn Quiet Every Day
Everything is swirling around me. I just want to be able to figure out all the shit that’s running through my head.
A Really Good Burrito After Sex
OK, when I wake up, is it too much to ask to be able to eat something really good? Whatever you want, just get me a really good burrito.
A Competent and Assertive Social Secretary
Sure, I want to hang out with my friends, but I don’t want to spend the time and effort arranging the logistics or figuring out what we are going to do once we are in the same room. You can do that, right?
Your Wingman is Amy Poehler
Women will flock to you if Amy Poehler is your wingman. Amy Poehler is awesome.