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Day 245 — Questioning Questions

Questioning QuestionsI am continually amazed that men don’t understand rhetorical questions from real ones. I have turned it into a test of a man’s emotional intelligence and general sensibility.

If a man even attempts to ask, “Do I look fat in this?” I know he’s not suave enough to be the guy for me. If he demurs, proving he has a strong sense of self-preservation, I will eventually ask him, “Was your last girlfriend as pretty as me?”

Anything other than “no,” and he’s history.

If he asks me, “Your place or mine?” then he just clearly hasn’t been paying attention since he is not coming to my house unless he makes house repairs for free, or wants to meet my ex husband, who lives with me.

The other question that drives me crazy is, “Was it good for you?” If you have to ask, bub, then something went wrong. You should be able to tell.

Only a complete idiot would ask, “Have you had plastic surgery?” (I haven’t, but are you buying?), “How many times have you been married?” (Twice, but please let me bring that up.), or “What kind of car do you drive?” (I have no car and, no, I don’t want to talk about that either).

Of course, those are questions that are governed by politeness and a man’s ever-deliberate drive to get laid.

It is better that a man be courteous and respectful, of course, but if that’s too much to ask, you’d think at least he’d consider the impact of stupid questions on the course of our date or relationship.

At work, on the other hand, the forbidden questions are banished, not just by custom but by law. In a job interview, they can’t ask, “Are you married?” or “Do you have any pre-existing medical conditions we should know about?”

Once you’re in the workplace only a complete fool—though an honest one—would ask me: “Would you unbutton one more button on that blouse?” or even “Would you like to get a drink with me after work?”

There is a guy who is usually in the lunchroom when I am, and he can’t seem to come up with anything to say to me other than “Are you going to finish that?” I find that to be a truly loathsome question. I hate everything about it. I tell him “yes,” and when he leaves, I throw the rest of my food away. I mean, really.

Many questions have no meaning. “How are you?” is a rote greeting. The question mark is superfluous. “Do you want to dance?” has almost been rendered obsolete. You want to dance?   So dance. I try not to ask myself, “what did I do to deserve this?” although it is in my head all the time.

My favorite ridiculous question of all time is at the end of a relationship. Like all women, I ask “Can we still be friends?”

Don’t bother to get stressed by this one guys, the answer doesn’t matter at all.

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