He popped up out of nowhere and declared that the age of the gentleman had died. Darn those pesky feminists for killing it.
Sadly, I could not share his warped perspective. For me it’s hard to blame women for the conduct of “gentlemen.”
Especially when men, who put on suits and ties and watches – impeccably groomed and polite and well spoken – go off to cast their ballots for those who would control women, yes, I wonder why then she rejects their advances when they eventually come a knocking. Let me open a door for you while I help close off another.
Hold the door. Pull the chair. Pay for dinner. Open the door to the car. Surely, these customs of being a gentleman give a man every right to be as demanding and as entitled as he wants. The pains of being female – treated like a delicate flower until it comes to the whims of her keeper. What a world.
If you were a gentleman you wouldn’t have pushed her down the stairs and laughed as her face turned more red than her hair. You wouldn’t have washed your hands of her tears so effortlessly knowing that you were the one who caused them. So many things would be different. She would be happy.
The only bad part is, if you were a gentleman, I wouldn’t be here.
He popped up out of nowhere and declared that the age of the gentleman had died. Darn those pesky feminists for killing it.
Sadly, I could not share his warped perspective. For me it’s hard to blame women for the conduct of “gentlemen.”
Especially when men, who put on suits and ties and watches – impeccably groomed and polite and well spoken – go off to cast their ballots for those who would control women, yes, I wonder why then she rejects their advances when they eventually come a knocking. Let me open a door for you while I help close off another.
Hold the door. Pull the chair. Pay for dinner. Open the door to the car. Surely, these customs of being a gentleman give a man every right to be as demanding and as entitled as he wants. The pains of being female – treated like a delicate flower until it comes to the whims of her keeper. What a world.
If you were a gentleman you wouldn’t have pushed her down the stairs and laughed as her face turned more red than her hair. You wouldn’t have washed your hands of her tears so effortlessly knowing that you were the one who caused them. So many things would be different. She would be happy.
The only bad part is, if you were a gentleman, I wouldn’t be here.