When things get boysterous

The Booth Babe says she’s “often accused … of being completely self-involved, vain, shallow and full of myself,” and muses:

I have wondered more than once — pretty much every day, actually — if I would be accused of the same sins were I a male product specialist writing the exact same observations, replacing the male pervs with female.

I don’t think I would. In fact, I think the male readers who currently bemoan my attitude would be sending me internet high-fives.

I’m thinking this is a variation on the standard male dichotomy, though in this case the two incompatible characteristics are babeliciousness and brains: there are guys who are simply unprepared even to admit that the two can exist in the same space. Meanwhile, the very nature of the Babe’s job pretty much demands that they must coexist: she has to know her product material cold, including the stuff that isn’t in the brochure, and she has to meet a presumably-arbitrary standard for eye candy. Drop someone like that in front of those guys, and they’re compelled to shoot down one factor or the other. Perhaps both.

Which may explain some of this:

So I’m not sure where a lot of the vitriol comes from. Is it because I take the occasional shot that bruises the fragile male ego? Is it because a certain type of male can’t reconcile the idea of an attractive female who has no sexual interest in him actually being intelligent?

Some of them will never forgive her for describing herself as “attractive” and yet somehow managing to spurn them; if she’s actually hot, they “reason,” surely she must be hot to, um, trot.

And there’s that other atavistic crap: women drive girlmobiles and can’t possibly understand the finer points of direct injection or MacPherson struts. Having once observed a woman repairing an incapacitated Porsche, a task I couldn’t do if you spotted me three service manuals and a rack full of Snap-Ons, I know better than that.

Cynics might suggest that I’m jockeying for position in the hopes of winning the Babe’s favor. Not a chance. It’s extremely unlikely our paths will ever cross, and besides, I don’t do “hope” all that well.





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