Cost-Benefit Analysis

Okay, ladies. Being female sucks sometimes, right? But what about the benefits? In all fairness to the men, we need to acknowledge that sometimes we do use our gender to our advantage (and don't you do dare deny it, because I will rat you out in an instant).

[As an aside, I have intentionally used the term "gender" rather than "sex." "Gender" refers to the characteristics attributed to the sexes by society, whereas "sex" refers simply to the biological distinctions between males and females. I don't intend to focus on the many wonders of having a vagina, but rather on the social advantages of being classified female. With that said, let us begin.]

1) We do need to address pure biology for just a moment. Ladies, we live longer. That's right. Men start dying off and we keep trucking. In fact, research has shown that widows tend to feel a bit of freedom when the old guy finally tuckers out. Now men, don't feel completely neglected. Some of the women do embrace your deaths, moving in with their widowed friends to repeat the slumber parties of adolescence; but others are lonely and start searching for a new man. So, if you happen to live longer, older men are definitely in demand.

2) The menstrual cycle. You knew it was coming, so don't groan. Every girl likes to bitch about this. And let's face it: bleeding for five days, without the comfort that death is imminent, does suck. Quite a bit. However, let's just look at the perks. Do men get a universal and unchallenged excuse to sit around in mismatched, baggy pajamas, watching television, eating more junk food than the average human-hippopotomus-hybrid-creature, yelling at anyone who speaks, and crying at the most mundane of Lifetime movies? No. Not only do men not get any such excuse for sloth, moodiness, and uncleaniness, but they also don't get the excuse for five days out of every month. And women, you know if you're really good, you can make the excuse stretch for at least two weeks; we all know we've started a fight and then said, "I must be about to start my period," or "My period just ended." That's right. Fess up, bitches.

3) Cosmetics. Can men go out, drink/study all night, get absolutely no sleep, and then make it look like they just spent eight hours snuggled in bed between thousand thread-count silk sheets? No. And why not? Because they're not allowed to wear concealer. Sure, makeup can be a pain in the ass--especially if you're running late and don't fall into that category of dangerous drivers who think they can apply mascara while navigating through morning traffic downtown. But we all know we look good once we're done. And there's the advantage. We can take a tired, sleepy visage, and turn it into a fresh, dazzling face in mere minutes.

4) Highly related to point (3), we have each other. Okay, so we tend to be backstabbing, conniving, man-stealing, gossiping witches. However, think about the last time you really tried to look good. Who noticed? Not the (straight) men. Women can tell when another woman has tried. We just have this sense about it. And we know we should compliment the other woman. We just do. Isn't it great? It's reaffirming. It makes us feel good. (As long as we don't hear each other go to the back of the room and start laughing hysterically afterward.)

5) Manipulation. We're born with it. We know how to work people. And we try to say only the dumb blondes do it, but allow me to confess in an effort to spur you all towards honesty. When I went home for Fall Break, I got conned into working at Steak N Shake from 8:30PM to 6:30AM on a Saturday night. At this point, my thumb was still wrapped in a cumbersome bandage, meaning that making shakes would not only take extra time but would also inevitably lead to dirty bandaging and paranoia regarding the risk of infection.* So what did I do? I told my manager how much I loved him, smiled and batted my eyelashes, and got him to agree to make all my shakes until he left at 2:30. What was I going to do after he left? Well, you see, I learned long ago (read: this summer when I waitressed for the first time ever) that, in the waitressing business, you make your life richer by flirting with customers and easier by flirting with coworkers. So all night I had been just flirty enough with my male coworkers that when the manager left, and I got a table of twelve who all wanted shakes, I could whimper a little bit, call on my male coworkers, and have them offer to make the shakes. That's right, folks. I never asked them to make the shakes. It just so happened that I made less than five shakes on a Saturday night--for those of you unfamiliar with Steak N Shake, that's just unbelievable; drunks love ordering shakes and normally waitresses have to make all of them on third shift. Now ladies, I know I'm not the only one who's done this. If you've ever leaned over just a little bit to reveal cleavage while in the process of manipulating, you are as guilty as I. Don't deny it. Just don't even try.

In conclusion, we've all learned about the glass ceiling of the business world, the 76 cents that women earn for every man's dollar, the discrimination, and the domination. We know being a female has serious downfalls. But next time you ladies are sitting on the couch with a pint of Ben & Jerry's watching Lifetime while your boyfriend rubs your back and listens to you cry and whine about your awful day and how tampons, panty hose, and high heels must've been invented by men, just remember that you get away with a lot too.




*For those of you who don't know, almost two months ago I cut off half my thumbnail and a rather substantial chunk of the nailbed while using the office papercutter at work. It was quite the fiasco, involving a trip to the emergency room to be treated by the incompetent worker's compensation doctor. My thumb is healing and the nail is growing although it still looks disgusting and I hide it under bandaids every day.