A Copywriter’s Blog
Stick to the Script

All’s fair in love and war, or so they say. But in the arsenal of relationships, there’s no greater weapon than the question “does this make me look fat?”

There’s no rationale that can save you from this. It’s twice as bad if you’re married, because the fallout from this verbal nuclear bomb has been calculated to last twice as long as it’s radioactive counterpart. In the hopes that two could play at this deadliest of games, I tried the following experiment last week.


“Do these jeans look ok?” I asked.

“what do you mean?”

“I mean do they look ok? I worry they’re too narrow.”

“They look fine. You look very skinny.”

(I’ve got her now!) “Are you saying I don’t normally look skinny?”

(pause) “I told you just the other day I thought you looked skin-”

“Are you saying I’m fat? You are, aren’t you? You think I’m fat, and these are the only jeans you actually like me in because they make me look skinny! I can’t believe you let me leave the house looking fat!”

(longer pause) “Ok, can we talk about a real crisis now?”

“I…uh…This is a crisis!”

“Uh-hunh. For real now, let’s talk about potential residency programs.”


And just like that, it was over. You see, I’m a logical creature, and when she pointed out that there were worse things than my allegedly inflated ass, I couldn’t keep up the charade. I’ve been on the other end of this exchange more than enough times to know that I got all my lines right. But it didn’t matter.

If I were a woman, I could have told her she was “avoiding the issue”, “changing the topic”, or “probably wished I looked like those women on TV”. But that will never work for men. There are many benefits to being a man, but we will never be able to discount logic and rationale simply by glancing at our backsides in the mirror. Our thighs will never be big enough to eclipse world hunger; our asses shall always be just a little smaller than our nation’s economic troubles.

But if you ever find yourself on the losing end of the “real world”, my suggestion would be to step behind your female counterpart, nod at the offending bit of logical reality and say:

“Honey, I think they mentioned something about your pants.”

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