Helpless (or hopeless?)

"So many tangles in life are ultimately hopeless that we have no appropriate sword other than laughter." ~Gordon W. Allport


So, I'm at the gas station the other night.  Thought I would be the prepared one and get gas the night before so I didn't have to rush around.  I get out and fill up the tank.  It's cold.  The pleasure of living on the lake in Winter.  I clean out the trash from the back.  Then I pop the hood and fill up the windshield washer fluid.  There's a guy pumping next to me.  I think "it sure would be nice if he would offer to help..."  But he doesn't, so I finish my tinkering.

Then a car with two girls pulls up.  The driver opens her window and starts talking to the guy.  "Excuse me...can you help me?"  I figured she needed directions.  But, nooo... in a sing-songy voice: "It's really cold out (flipping her hair back).  Would you pump my gas for me so I don't need to get out?"

I laugh.  Out loud.  Real loud.  Did I really just hear that?  I look at the guy, thinking "there is no way he is really going to fall for that."  Oh, but apparently I'm a really bad judge of character.  He shrugs his shoulders and pumps her gas.  Really?  I'm laughing even harder now.  In total disbelief.  Yeah, he fell.  Probably figured she would give him her number if he did.

Apparently I'm not the "flip your hair back and bat your eyes" kind of girl.  I'm the "pop your hood and check the oil and maybe even rotate the tires" girl.  I was brought up learning to fix my own bike because you never know when you're going to break down.  I have my own set of tools.  I wonder just for a moment if perhaps I should have been taught the flippy-hair thing.  The coy, needs a man to help her thing.

But I'm not that girl (Wicked reference lol).  I never could be.  It's not that I don't want a man around.  That would be nice.  But I don't need one - at least not for the "man's work".  If I don't know how to do it, I'll either learn or pay someone to fix it.  I was given a brain.  A damned good one to tell you the truth.  Two good hands to fix whatever it is, whether a broken Bakugan, a torn hem, or a loose muffler.  I'm still feminine and classy, but I carry my own Swiss Army knife and a bottle of superglue....

So, here's to those who do for themselves.  And maybe even for those who can get away with flippy hair.  Because without them, how else would the rest of us weed out the guys that just aren't worth the time?