"How Can I Get a Guy To Give Me Presents"

 

Dear Grrl Genius,

 

I love my boyfriend, he is funny and smart and kind and we have amazing sex all the time.  He writes me notes and poems and cooks me dinner and leaves me the sweetest voicemails on my phone and gives me backrubs and sometimes, when we are in a restaurant, he will take my foot under the table and gives me long tender foot rubs as I linger over coffee and dessert.

 

I know he loves me (he tells me all the time) and I’m madly in love with him. Here’s the problem.  We have been going out for almost a year, and he has never bought me a present.  I have bought him several lovely, personal gifts.

 

The other day, without my asking, he picked me up a roll of stamps at the post-office and said, “Look!  I got you a present!” and handed me the stamps.  I was kind of a bitch and said, “Well that’s nice, but it’s not a present.”  I hated that I said that, but it’s NOT a present, not like the engraved pen I gave him for Christmas.  

 

Should I say something?  Should I drop subtle hints?  Should I leave catalogues around his apartment, with maybe like post-its on them or something?  Or should I just shut up about the whole topic?  Should I stop buying him presents?  I’m not materialistic, I make a good living and I don’t want stuff, but like everything else in a relationship it seems like it’s more fun if you both give and receive.

 

I’m not breaking up with him either way.

 

Giftless in Seattle

 

Dear Giftless,

 

He rubs your feet in restaurants?  Without even being asked?  For reals?

 

Anyway, giving presents seems to be a challenge area for most men.  I get four phone calls a year from my father, they occur the day before my mother’s birthday, the day before their anniversary, the day before Mother’s Day and the day before Valentine's Day.  I’m usually with him for the day before Christmas, so he doesn’t have to call.

 

When you say that you have amazing sex all the time, how do you define amazing?  And what exactly constitutes “all the time?”  Just curious.

 

At any rate, every time my Dad calls I tell him the same thing.  Get her something from Tiffany’s.  Nobody ever gets mad at anything that comes in a little blue box with a white ribbon.  In “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” George Peppard gives Audrey Hepburn a Cracker Jack ring that he gets engraved at Tiffany’s, and it’s the most romantic thing ever, even though he’s a gigolo and she’s a very skinny hooker who has no money but inexplicably has an incredible wardrobe of designer originals by Givenchy.

 

Does he really SAY he loves you?  Without you saying, “Do you really love me?  Do you love me as much as beer?  Do you love me more than you loved your dog Skip that you had to put to sleep?  Do you ever wish you could put me to sleep?  Like, right now?”

 

This guy is a prince who will probably never get his act together on the gift thing, unless you and this man have children and give birth to someone like me whom he calls four times a year who just tells him what to buy.  Failing that, if you get a nice gift from him, you can be sure his mother or his sister or some other Grrl (who is this other Grrl?  Why is she shopping with him?  Maybe because she’s less critical than you are about stupid things like presents!) helps him buy it.

 

Home cooked meals and poems and cards and sweet messages? Plus frequent, satisfying sex?  Is it possible that you are a great anthropologist and have discovered the world’s first heterosexual gay man?

 

Since you are a genius (you wouldn’t be writing ME if you weren’t) I am sure you can already see that any guy who cooks and rubs and is making love to you constantly (is it possible that he can’t afford a present because he can’t hold down a job due the intense pressure of this schedule of, as you seem to be implying, CONSTANT lovemaking?) is a treasure and if you want some flowers buy them for yourself. My advice is take those stamps he gave you and send him a frigging thank you note.

 

Or else break up with him and send him to me.  I know women that would murder puppies to have a boyfriend like yours.

 

GG

 

 

"He's so Bad He's Good"

Dear Grrl Genius,

 

Two men are currently pursuing me.  One is very athletic; he plays softball, climbs rocks all weekend, golfs and hikes.  I do not like to do any of these things and thought he was kidding about the rocks.  The other man is frankly not as good looking, but he has much more similar interests to me. He enjoys movies and museums.  With boyfriend #1, I find that I am always waiting for him to finish a game of something so we can go out.  With boyfriend #2, I get much more attention.  Boyfriend #1 has actually stood me up because a basketball game ran late, while boyfriend #2 would never do such a thing.  Yet it is #1 I seem to think about all the time.  Why can’t I be happy with the one who really pays attention to me?

 

Longing for Number One

 

Dear Longing,

 

Oh my dearest Genius, I only wish your problem were about sports versus museums.  I hate to tell you this, but you are addicted to Bad Boys who don’t like you. #1 is not a Bad Boy because he, long after the invention of the perfectly lovely elevator insists on climbing rocks like some crazed Neanderthal; he’s a bad boy because he’s rude to you.  

 

And what’s worse is, you love it.  You are attracted to the person who doesn’t want you. Most likely, in some wretched festival of non-Grrl Geniusy low self-esteem, you see his contempt for you as a sign of his good taste.

 

Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.  I spent the first part of my life dating bad boys, and then I married one.

 

Grrls often make the mistake of thinking that Bad Boys can be easily spotted, that they will show up on a Harley Davidson in a leather jacket with a ciggy butt hanging out of their mouths and ashes dripping all over their Satanic tattoos.

 

The truth is, there are more bad boys in sumptuous to the touch high thread count Giorgio Armani shirts than you can even begin to imagine.

 

Here is a little Quiz to help you determine who is a bad boy, and who is not.

 

Who is the Bad Boy?

 

A: Doug, a heroic firefighter who runs into burning buildings in a very cute outfit to save lives, doesn’t smoke, drinks very sparingly, and works out every day.

 

B: Kerry, a research Scientist who is working on a cure for a rare kind of bone cancer.  He loves to cook gourmet meals and go to the Symphony.  His shirts have a very high thread count.

 

C. Steve, a former (so he says) drug addict with a lip ring who now works as a drug rehab counselor, spending all his time with other people who have lied and cheated and stolen to support their repulsive habits.  His hobby is reading weirdo science fiction novels.

 

The Answer is…THEY ARE ALL BAD BOYS.

 

Do you know why?  Because every single one of them does the same thing.  Says he will call, and then doesn’t.  Doug is always too busy saving lives to call, except other firefighters manage to make phone calls when they aren’t running into burning buildings in THEIR cute outfits.

 

Kerry claims to be too caught up in his, you know, Cancer curing, to return a phone call, and then calls at the last minute to see if you’re free to join him and his high thread count shirt help him unwind from, you know, CURING CANCER.  

 

Steve is always running off to bail some addict out of the pokey, but he takes it as an excuse to never commit to a plan with YOU.  Probably the only way he’ll return your call is if YOU’RE calling from the pokey.  Plus, have you ever tried to kiss someone with a lip ring?  Eeew!

 

Sadly, you may be drawing the conclusion that it is impossible to spot these bad boys disguised in their high thread count shirts and heroic sounding jobs.

 

Do not be discouraged.  It is easier than you think to spot a nice man.

 

A nice man is the man who treats you nicely.  He calls you and returns your call.  He shows up when he said he would.  

 

Most importantly, he says the three little words that every Grrl Genius longs to hear.

 

He is able to say, “I am sorry.”

 

Sometimes he follows it up with; I’ll do better next time.  He doesn’t make an excuse about how he was off saving the world.

 

Now, that’s hot.    

 

GG

 

 

"How Low Should I Go For Love?"

 

Dear Grrl Genius,

 

My boyfriend Ryan has come up with what seems like kind of a weird request.  He really likes it when I wear fancy and super uncomfortable underwear, and I’m willing to do it because, you know, it makes him so happy.  Besides, once he sees it, it doesn’t stay on very long. But now he wants me to get what they call a “Full Brazilian” bikini wax, which means they take of every last inch of my pubic hair off.  He says he thinks it would be really “cute” and pouts every time I come to bed not having done it.  He says why can’t I at least have it waxed in the shape of a heart or something.  I don’t want to do any of it, because I can barely take a regular bikini wax without sobbing my head off.

 

I know that relationships are all about being flexible and everything, but this seems like too much.  I’m a being a big baby or what?

 

Shaving My Privates for Ryan

 

Dear Shaving,

 

Your letter has me so mad I want to spit, but that is so not Grrl Geniusy.

 

I myself have never been to Brazil, but my impression has always been that it was a festive happy culture where everyone danced all night and wore fruit on their heads and walked around bare breasted on the beach.  Why would the Brazillians want ruin their happy times with the cruelest form of waxing ever devised?

 

So, your boyfriend Ryan thinks it would be “cute” if you had every last hair violently ripped out at the follicular level in the most sensitive and nerve-laden area of your body.  How would he feel if you thought it would be “cute” if he affixed a pair of needle nose pliers to his family jewels?  Wouldn’t it be just “adorable” if he cut off an ear for you?  And really, why stop there, what about the fantastic fashion trends of the past, wouldn’t it be “darling” and “charming” if he agreed to ritual scarification with a dull blade or how about putting a plate in his lip?  If he really loved you, would that be so much to ask?

 

I think the only fair way to approach this issue would be to go to your local salon and schedule a His and Hers waxing, and let him go first.  I believe this issue would be settled once and for all after the first “thwack!” of muslin yanked the hairs from his tender bits and his subsequent agonizing screams drowned out the Enya music that wafts gently through the spa corridors.

 

Additionally, I think we need to examine the whole philosophy behind this fashion.  I think that Miles van der Rhoe said it best when it came to the topic of bikini waxing (which he wasn’t addressing specifically, but still)  “form follows function.”  Those little curlicues of hair are there for a reason; it is an area that (used properly) is set up as a cushion.  Tell Ryan that he should think of your perfectly natural pubic hair as something that is there for a purpose, and the purpose is comfortable sexual intercourse.  Tell him to think of this hair as your personal welcome mat.  Tell him to imagine what would happen if the welcome mat was not so welcoming.

 

Perhaps I should clarify the official Grrl Genius policy on fashion.  A true Grrl Genius only alters her appearance to suit herself, not her boyfriend or her husband.   If you decide to drive a toggle bolt through your upper lip, well that’s fine, as long as you did it to please yourself, and really, what could be more pleasurable?  However if, like the women of the Ndebele tribe in Africa you allow your husband to place golden rings around your neck until your muscles atrophy and become useless so that he can show other the men in the tribe that he is wealthy because of how effectively he can cripple you, well, I’m sure you can see where that’s not very Grrl Geniusy at all.

 

If he is too wimpy to go to the spa with you, an alternative method for making your point once and for all would be to make the sacrifice one time only, go to a competent esthetician with a recent snapshot, and have your private area shaped into what is undoubtedly the hawk like profile of Ryan’s overbearing mother.

 

That will teach him.

 

GG