Gender Tall Tales

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was written two years ago after reading Huckleberry Finn. The class had to write a tale. I chose gender tales. If you're not sure what 'tale' means, you can say it means 'an exagerration of the truth'. Or just go to dictionary.com. This was written out of humor, especially the last sentence.

Submitted: January 28, 2013

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Submitted: January 28, 2013

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Gender Tall Tales

 

"Hey!" yelled Scott. "Are you ready yet?"

There was silence and then, "Almost!--I just have to put on my make-up and put the finishing touches on my hair!"

So Scott waited. And waited. And waited. He glanced around the open living room and stared at the many pictures on the mantel, the table, the wall... And then the picture on the television hypnotized him, drew him into its powerful grasp full of mesmerizing colors that flashed and danced.

Finally, Michelle walked into the living room to find, much to her dismay, that Scott had not waited like he said he would. No! He plopped his cute bottom into the red Papasan chair and decided to spend the date night with an inanimate object.

"Hey!" she said, hoping to break the bond between the screen and his gorgeous green eyes. "Let's go!"

"In a second!" he called back. "It's getting to the good part!"

"Oh! Come on! I was gone for what--5 minutes at the most? Male!"

Scott turned to face her and their eyes met. But he had to rise from the seat. "No, you took about 10 minutes. No! Longer than that! I swear, I could've gone to the bathroom five times, walked around the world twice, and used the bathroom again and you would've been half done!"

Michelle scoffed, pretending to be offended. "You are such a liar! I do not take that long!"

"Yes you do! You women obsess over every little hair! And if that hair is not in place, you murder it with your comb and hairspray it to death again! Then you yell at it to stay in place, but you don't realize that you end up turning your hair into a plastic wig!"

Oh, it was on now.

"And you men just rool out of bed, scratch your butt, and sometimes brush your teeth and take a shower and put on clean underwear. You men are like old cars--you may look fine, but you have poor gas mileage and you move as slow as a 1940 Woody Wagon. Someone, sometimes us, fills you up with your gas choice, you move again, but only for a few miles more... And you say women are hard to please and are as vain as can be?"

Scott suppressed a laugh and retaliated. "You women are hard to please and you cost more than a diamond, and, yet, you beg for a huge rock on your finger."

"Wierd, right?" Michelle scrunched her face up in a 'pretending-to-be-baffled' look that made Jacob smile.

"Yes you are," he answered, crossing the room to her.

"So are you."

"Well, thank you. I don't try."

She laughed and said, "Seriously." She pulled on his arm, "Let's go before we miss the movie. If we don't move now, it'll be sold out."

"Fine, fine," he said, holding out his hand and she took his hand, pretending to be dainty about it.

"Thank you kind gentleman."

"Actually, I'm a dog and you're the owner who's trained me well."


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