Alright girls, I don’t know which of the X chromosomes contains the gene that causes you to squeal like a stuck pig every time you experience an emotion in public but it has to stop. My ears are still ringing from an encounter with a couple of 18 year old coeds shrieking with delight over their discovery of a new way to lace their Chucks. At least I think they were delighted. The noise is virtually indistinguishable from the apparent cries of anguish I heard moments later when they discovered that someone else had already discovered that lacing method.
Yes it seems one can’t walk a city block without a blood-curdling cry puncturing one’s ear drums and there’s a particular demographic to blame. Young women all over the country are using more words in more ways (well, probably repeating many of the same words over and over) than ever before using text messages, instant messages, Blackberry messages and carrier pigeons; yet when it comes time to express any sentiment more complicated than “I want a Diet Coke,” they return to a state of nature and scream like a howler monkey without the charm. I find it hard to believe that the fairer sex has picked up so foul an affectation by accident and I have a few theories about the true culprit.
I’m no Dr. Phil, but I’d say safe money is on you ladies being desperate for attention. You’ve already had a swing-and-a-miss trying to use looks or personality to get people to notice you so you turn on your siren and try catch some pedestrian off guard long enough to get your hooks in. I’ll tell you why this is a terrible idea just a minute but suffice it to say (not “sufficeth” for you Rhodes scholars out there) that this is sure to fail.
Think about this from the perspective of your prey. They are temperamental, narrowly focused, and easily distracted. They get one taste of your best banshee impression, do a quick over-under on how long it will take before they have to kill you to get the ringing to stop and decide that they cannot prepare a justifiable homicide defense by next week. So they keep moving and the dance begins again.
The much bigger issue here is the girl crying wolf. Eventually, humans will evolve to the point that they can tune out all the sound in your register, and then we have real problems because one of these days the hem of your dress is going to get caught in an escalator or your hair will catch on fire because you leaned too far over the candle on the table at that nice restaurant (how I wish this had not really happened) and no one will pay you any mind, thinking it’s just your usual mating ritual.
And don’t come crying to me when that happens. If I haven’t already learned to block you out by then, I will just laugh and laugh and laugh. So it’s time to take a stand for feminism ladies. Save your dresses and your tresses by corking your pie hole next time you have the urge to get vocal.
1 comment:
Ha! Tough cookies, you ass. As an avid Polite Policer, I'm with you 99% of of the time, but I'm also an Involuntary Squeaker and feel I must take a stand for my kind.
It's entirely a reflex action, whether genetic or learned, and has absolutely zero to do with attracting the opposite sex. As you rightly point out, it's a total turn-off, which I unfortunately discovered when a high school date of mine bitched to my friends the next day that I got way too high-pitched when noticing Mark-Paul Gosselaar starred in the Dead Man on Campus trailer preceding our feature attraction.
Since it is definitely not a seduction technique (shockingly, our entire beings are not dedicated to catching the mens), might I suggest a cleverly evolved adaptation? The biological reason for the irritation high pitches cause you is that they sound like the cry of a child, so you're naturally supposed to want to stop the crying and comfort the baby. Perhaps this is why ladies get all high-pitched when screaming at dudes for a wide range of shit behaviors, from cheating and lying about it to failing to take out the garbage and lying about it. Our muscle tone is lacking, but we're still given the tools with which to punish you.
Another reason: as men age, they lose the ability to hear higher frequencies. Since we've already mastered the squeak communication technique, this allows us to have conversations about shoes or our ovaries or whatever without lecherous old guys eavesdropping on our conversations. It's true; 99% of the time (aka when we're not unleashing the fury your direction), when we get all squeaky, it's a signal that you shouldn't be listening.
But this news should be a comfort to you. You only have twenty more years until your hearing starts to go, and until then, you can learn to tune us out. Maybe conjure up a mental picture to block out the offender, replacing her with the glorious work whistle of capitalism triumphant, or Renee Fleming's high G, or the anticipatory signal of a boiling pot of delicious tea.
Your life isn't fair, and neither is evolutionary biology. But perhaps this explanation will help you come to grips with the sassy squeakers, so you can get back in the library to fume over stacks snackers, and I can get back in the kitchen where I belong.
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