24 Hours As A Man
Have you ever imagined what it would be like to be a man? With muscles and chest hair and a portfolio of dick pics? After a weekend of binge watching Suits, Mad Men and Californication I wondered if the best way to understand the opposite sex was to mimic their behaviour for an entire day. Originally I had planned do this experiment for a week but later feared prolonged MAN-ing would cause serious side effects. Too much meat, nuts and pumping iron sounds like a recipe for a hernia. Here’s how I measured up being a gent…
6:00 am: “TRAINING”
Have you ever woken up at the crack of dawn to find your man (or one night stand) exiting the building with a vague look and a gym bag?
When asked what they’re doing, “I’m going to training” is usually the most common response.
Who are you? A pro athlete? What are you training for? I don’t understand.
6:15 am: GYM
Before I walk out the door I grab my towel and slap the pocket of my gym shorts checking I have my keys and a couple of condoms in case I pick up a chick on the treadmill for a “morning meeting”.
My housemate is in the kitchen making herself a coffee and she asks me what the fuck I’m doing.
In true man-fashion I act aloof and say “training”.
6:30 am: IRON
I arrive at the gym. Instead of going to the treadmill I hit the weights area. I am beyond embarrassed because I’m still half asleep and I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing.
I pick up the smallest hand weights and try to remember the moves from a fitness DVD at home.
7:00 am: EGO
I don’t know if its because I’ve just spent the last half hour lifting heavy shit or because I caught another guy checking me out but I’m feeling pretty fucking in love with myself right now.
7:15 am: FOOD
No frills, no lemon/sunshine water. Just man food.
Ah, wait what is man food? I search Askmen.com for answers.
“This article will give you some guidelines as to what constitutes a good breakfast for optimal leanness.” Askmen.com
Meat and nuts. That’s it?
I cook up some bacon and a sausage and eat it will a side of almonds. I immediately feel sick and guilty because it feels like I’ve eaten ten different animals before 8 am.
Suck it up big fella! I say to myself in the mirror.
7:45 am: WORK
I walk out of the elevator with Don Draper swagger, complimenting the receptionist on my way to my desk.
A new lingerie sample arrives and I resist the urge to take a flatlay of it with my coffee cup and a chanel lipstick. Instead I file the mental image of this lingerie on Penelope Cruz away in my spank bank for later.
1:00 am: FOOD
While I would usually pick up some sushi to have at my desk, today I have decided to tag along with the property guys to lunch.
Lunch as a man is well…boring. There’s no talk of gossip, or sex or yeast infections. There’s just a lot of eating, chewing and slurping.
3:00 pm: BITCHES
A guy I dated for an insignificant amount of time sends me a text message “Hey what’s up”.
Instead of triggering a social media stalking frenzy, I leave my phone in my drawer while I head into a meeting and “forgetting” to reply for an hour and a half.
Eventually I reply “Not much” and he responds straight away with “Want to meet up for a drink tonight?”
I ponder for a moment…What’s the most offensive, disengaged thing a man could say in this situation?
And then it hits me.
“Shhh.” I message.
6:00 pm: DRINK & SEX
I meet my friend Miss A in Surry Hills for a drink. While I am absolutely craving a glass of wine I decide to stick to my manly guns and order an Old Fashioned.
Aint nothing manlier than whiskey, bitters and fire. We both watch the cute bartender light the orange peel. He is amused by the fact that a) we are amused and b) that I’m ordering what is commonly referred to as ‘an old mans drink’.
By the time I finish the glass I’m officially drunk and exhausted.
I’d like to be the type of man that takes Miss A home for a nice romantic dinner then buys her breakfast in the morning but truth be told I’m rooted.
This is my cue to bail.
8:00 pm: TV
I switch on the television with every intention to watch sport but there’s a Sex and the City marathon on channel 11. I cave and end up quoting Samantha on the couch with a glass of left over pinot noir.
There’s no denying that I am a woman, which is fortunate because I have boobs and quite like being a woman BUT I didn’t half mind taking the “no frills” man-approach to life.
No fussing, no obsessing and certainly no overthinking, heck today was almost like a detox. But how much did adopting a male perspective give me an insight into what really goes on in the minds of the Don’s, Harveys and Hank Moody’s of the world? Although I was yet to have a man-revelation I went to bed hoping that I’d wake up enlightened.
12:00 am: WOMAN
With the light of my photo beaming down on my face and a Julia Roberts style vein popping out of my forehead I tried to track Mr 3pm’s Snapchat story to find out what he was doing that made him so busy that he couldn’t reply to my genius “Shhh” text. Was he offended? Angered? Couldn’t give two fucks either way?
It was official, the clock had struck midnight and just like that I was back to my old female ways.