So, I’ve recently started seeing a guy who’s prettier than I am. He even has softer hands than I do. I must say I’m absolutely fascinated by his ability to be pretty and manly at the same time, without being a male bimbo, or “mimbo”. He’s a member of a superior sect of the human race that’s become a Man 2.0 of sorts. It appears that the male side of the species has recently evolved in the way that women did during World War II where the beauties of the time became even more enhanced with the advent of Rosie the Riveter. The metrosexual movement, in its less extreme form these days, has evened out to a less shocking, but equally awe-inspiring, group that can squish bugs and lift things as well as Man 1.0, but looks much better doing it.
Man 2.0 creates a real quandary in our minds and defines a new paradox that will forever throw the gender stereotypes of yore out of whack. We females have to come to terms with both getting everything we ever wished for—a manly man with a bathroom counter full of nicer products than we have—and feeling that twinge of jealousy over cheeks that are naturally rosy as opposed to our artfully painted ones.
An encounter with Man 2.0 makes us realize that we can no longer rest on our feminine laurels as the fairer sex. There’s stiff competition out there in the form of Man 2.0. He’s everything we fancy ourselves to be in our cosmetic counter reveries—lovely on the outside and strong on the inside.
After getting over my minor bout of jealousy, I realized that snaring a Man 2.0 is better than having your proverbial cake and eating it too. It’s like having the whole dessert tray and then finding out it was all fat-free. When my Man 2.0 arrives at my place to go out and I’m still fighting the good fight against my thick, wavy hair, he totally understands that it takes time and a few burns from the flat iron to be the loveliest date possible. Ladies, these guys make all of the work worth it.
But alas, there’s a dark side to Man 2.0. The materialistic mutation of this sect can cause your average girl more anxiety than sorority rush. All of you women who complain about your husbands and boyfriends not noticing when you get a quarter of an inch cut off your hair may need to spend an evening with the dark side to appreciate the traditional cosmetically-oblivious bunch of guys we know and love. I was out one night with one of the dark ones who commented on my accessories using the designer names and then complimented me on my highlights and, get this, my lowlights. Talk about feeling on display. It made me so nervous to wear anything that didn’t have a fabulous label attached to it or, God forbid, put my hair in a ponytail, that I stressed monumentally over what I’d wear if I ever had to see him again. The threat of a run-in with these fools is enough to make you shake in your Old Navy track pants and $3.50 flip-flops.
As a disclaimer, I have to tell the remaining Men 1.0 out there that you’re not obsolete. I’m certainly obliged to assure you that your version of manliness is equally as desirable as the 2.0 upgrade, and females support both versions. As much as I’m on a Man 2.0 kick right now, it’s good to keep a few beer-guzzling, deer-hunting 1.0 friends around to jazz things up and keep me in touch with my football-watching (Go Virginia!), Jager-shot-taking Woman 2.0. Just as a smart investor diversifies her portfolio, the smart dater diversifies her collection of gentleman callers; and we all know that diversification ups our chances of profit. So, set aside your jealousy, girls, and grab yourself a shiny, new Man 2.0…the softer hands are worth it.
