The Difference Between Men and Women



         Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a 

movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and 

again they enjoy themselves.  They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither 

one of them is seeing anybody else. 

       And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine,and, without really 

thinking, she says it aloud: ''Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for 

exactly six months?'' 

       And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to 

herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our 

relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't 

want, or isn't sure of. 

       And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months. 

       And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of  relationship, either.  Sometimes I wish I

had a little more 

space, so I'd  have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we  are, moving steadily

toward . . . I 

mean, where are we going? Are we just  going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading



 toward marriage? Toward children?  Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of  commitment? Do I

really even 

know this person? 

       And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's see..February when we started going out, which was

right after I 

had the car at the dealer's, which means . . .  lemme check the odometer .. . Whoa! I am way  overdue for an oil

change here. 

       And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe

he wants 

more from our relationship,  more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed  it --

that I was 

feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings.

He's afraid of 

 being rejected. 

       And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission  again. I d'on't care what those

morons say, it's 

still not shifting right.  And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold  weather? It's 87

degrees out, 

and this thing is shifting like a garbage  truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600. 

        And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry,too. I feel so guilty, putting him

through this, but I 

can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure. 

        And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna

say, the 

scumballs. 

        And Elaine is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight  to come riding up on his white

horse, when I'm 

sitting right next to a  perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person

who seems to 

truly care about me. A person who is in pain  because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy. 

        And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty?  I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty

and stick it  .... 

       ''Roger,'' Elaine says aloud. 

       ''What?'' says Roger, startled. 

       ''Please don't torture yourself like this,'' she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. ''Maybe I should

never have  . . Oh , 

I feel so ...'' (She breaks down, sobbing.) 

        ''What?'' says Roger. 

        ''I'm such a fool,'' Elaine sobs. ''I mean, I know there's no knight. I  really know that. It's silly. There's no

knight, and 

there's no horse.'' 

        ''There's no horse?'' says Roger. 

        ''You think I'm a fool, don't you?'' Elaine says. 

        ''No!'' says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer. 

        ''It's just that . . . It's that I . . . I need some time,'' Elaine says. 

        (There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response.

Finally he 

comes up with one that he  thinks might work.) ''Yes,'' he says.  (Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.) ''Oh,

Roger, do you 

really feel that way?'' she says. 

        ''What way?'' says Roger. 

        ''That way about time,'' says Elaine. 

        ''Oh,'' says Roger. ''Yes.'' 

        (Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she

might say 

next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.) ''Thank you, Roger,'' she says. 

        "Thank you,'' says Roger. 

        Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas

when Roger 

gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a



rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. 

       A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car,

but he is 

pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.

(This is also 

Roger's policy regarding world hunger.) 

        The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation

for six straight 

hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time

again, 

exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. 

They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite

conclusions, but 

never getting bored with it, either. 

        Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just

before serving, 

frown, and say: "Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?'' 



--Dave Barry