I Believe in Paying for the Girl
As a guy, there’s something inherently built into my brain that I should pay for the woman when we go out somewhere. Some people may say that chivalry is dead and women have equal rights and should be independent and other things to discourage this from happening. To that I say, with a resounding resolve, “Phooey!” (Ladies, please note my “phooey” is directed towards the discouragement of my paying, not your equal rights. Please, no hate mail.)
I grew up in a family with a sister and all girl cousins. Just a dad, a handful of uncles and a pair of grandpas; no brothers, no boy cousins. I was taught to treat women like queens. My father made it very clear how important mom was to him and didn’t tolerate disrespect towards her. I noticed this from an early age and took note. Women are special. They’re important and they deserve the best we men have to offer because, let’s face it fellas, the best we have to offer is still barely on par with their mediocre.
So, because of this predominantly estrogenic upbringing, when I start dating a girl, there a certain privileges I believe that she should be entitled to expect. Things like me holding the door, telling her how cute she looks, embarrassing her in public without realizing it, pretending I’ve never heard of that band before, etc. One of those expectations, I feel, is that she should know that I want to pay for her. There was a key word in that last phrase: want. I want to do this, folks.
Yes, I’ve worked hard for this money. Yes, that salmon costs about $3 too much. Yes, I could buy the box set of Saving Private Ryan with what I just spent on dessert. But you know what? That’s not the point. The point is, she belongs to me now. Not in some chauvinistic ownership sense where she is now mine to control and she has to submit to me. Far from it. She belongs to me in the way that she can feel secure in knowing that I’ll do the best I can to take care of her. Call me a romantic if you want; it’s probably accurate.
It’s odd though, because I’m the kind of guy that most would call a “stiff.” I hate paying for things. I’m hopeless. If there’s extra pennies to be saved, I pinch them.
What? A medium fry costs ten cents more now? I’ll pass.
Really? One ply toilet paper is a dollar cheaper? Grab three.
However, there’s some sort of synapse in my brain the starts firing when there’s a girl involved. All of a sudden, I might as well just be throwing fistfuls of bills at them – respectfully, of course. I have a hard time spending more than $5 on a meal for myself. I practically live off cold cereal, PB&J and frozen dinners. But the minute my girl is craving fondue, I’m essentially spearing twenty dollar bills and dunking them in hot cheese.
I want to make one thing clear here. I’m not doing this to impress anyone. I’m not doing it because I expect her to pay me back later, physically or otherwise. I do it because I know it’s the right thing to do. I was taught by practically everyone in my family except my cats to treat a girl like she’s a million dollars, even if you end up paying that much to do so. That’s because I feel it is a God-given responsibility for us men to let women know how much we think they’re worth. And let me tell you something, it’s not enough just to take them somewhere. An evening at Buffalo Wild Wings where you pay more attention to the Packer’s defense than what the lady you’re with has to say does not count. It would mean more to her to have meaningful conversation over a bowl of Lucky Charms at your apartment. Don’t believe me? Try it.
Now, I hope I’ve been clear. I believe in paying for the girl. I DON’T believe in buying your way into a relationship, nor do I condone trying to impress your lady friends with how much money you have. That’s irrelevant. Trust me, as of right now, I hardly pull in four figures a year. What I believe in is keeping chivalry alive. As a man, I feel it’s my job to make the girl I’m with feel like she is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. And there’s truth in that, isn’t there, guys? Women do something for us that we can’t really get any other way. Something about their fingers finding yours when you’re just sitting there watching TV or the way they run their hand through your hair when you’re having a frustrating day. They are the essence of art and beauty and everything worth living for in this world.
If anything, we should be eager for the chance to spend a few bucks on them.
We owe them.
- Mike
You Can Do Better Than Me - Death Cab For Cutie
