Thirsting For A Battle Of The Sexes

Stopping in the bookstore for a hot dog (not as much of a regret as you might initially assume) a young woman quite authoritatively tells this dude that she's with to grab her a smartwater (one word?). The cat struggles to find the water as he is searching in the wrong fridge. (He is surrounded by about three, not the hardest mistake to make.) Ever domineering, the young lady proceeds to haughtily make a big fuss about grabbing the water for herself. "Men are retarded," she says with much disdain. At this point, my "bitch-o-meter" is at about an 11. "That's a hell of a generalization," I say coolly, or what I imagine was coolly. She insists upon the truthfulness of her statement. I point out that she's the one paying three extra dollars for bottled water with an adjective in front of it. She says nothing, but her eyes pretty much tell me where she'd like to not so gently place her smartwater. I look around and receive bro-nods of unity from two other dudes in the store. I've won this battle. Something tells me I won't be invited to her end of semester party. Then again, given the ineptitude of my gender, I probably wouldn't have been able to find her house anyway. Maybe I should be drinking smartwater. Song of the Day: Nobody Weird Like Me-Red Hot Chili Peppers Jazz Song of the Day: E.S.P.- Miles Davis