Things Guys Worry About

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My

Catholic-obsessive-compulsive grandmother had a huge influence on me growing

up. She is part of the reason I'm such a

worry wart. She's also part of the

reason I have such strange thoughts running through my head all the time. Whenever she sensed me putting a gorgeous

girl on a pedestal, she'd bring me right back down to earth. She'd tell me:

"Rich, if

you ever find yourself getting too wrapped up into a girl—remember, she craps."

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I've

tried to find other ways of keeping girls in perspective since then. One of my strategies is to remind myself

that, while they may not worry as much as I do, girls worry about things. So I've laid out some things men worry about

so that girls can remind themselves that we worry too. Some you may already know, and some may

surprise you.


Does my

hair look ok?

I'm a bit

extreme in my obsession over my hair, but I know other guys have gone through

phases where they worry that their hair sucks. After college, I suddenly realized that my hair mattered—I couldn't just

wear a giant bush on my head. Since

graduation I've jumped from gay hairdresser to gay hairdresser. That's right: hairdresser, not

barber. While some of my buddies run up

the street to get their hair cut for $10, I trek across town to a trendy

section of Manhattan

to see Ricardo, my gay hairdresser, at Tela Salon. After I'm served hot tea and get expert

treatment (think Cowardly Lion when he gets to the Emearld City), I drop $50

for their services—kind of extreme but ,hey, I've decided that my whole

appearance is based on my hair.

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Stubble

or clean?

I worry

whether I need some stubble on a night out. I think I look really bad without any shadow there. But sometimes I hit this terrible spot where

it's too long, and if I shave it I'll be completely bare. My rule of thumb is to shave Thursday

night—perfect stubble for Friday and Saturday night usually grows in by then.


Do I

smell ok?

This one

goes way back. I remember those first

few days when I realized I could get B.O. Luckily a lot of things need to happen for me to get it—I need to do

more than go to the gym without showering to get it. But that didn't stop my friend and I from

getting on the phone on prom night and counting out our licks of deodorant

together: "one, two, three..." all the way to 50. And at my college homecoming tailgate, upon cracking my first beer open

at 8 AM, I told my buddy I was freaked out because I forgot to put on

deodorant.

"You're

not going to worry about this all day," he said. And he refused to walk back to our house with

me to get it. Finally, I tricked him into going to a nearby McDonalds to grab a

hash brown. While he was in line, I

snuck to a convenience store and threw down $5 for deodorant that eventually

disappeared into the field's beer-muck by the end of homecoming after just one

use (though I put on about 5 days worth).






15

minutes? One hour?

How long

should we have sex? After too long,

girls get sore. If it's too short, she

might be unsatisfied.


Is her

body as gross as mine?

Those

beautiful mornings in bed with a girl are often tainted by the maelstrom

occurring in my stomach. Why is it that

my stomach waits until I'm in bed with a girl in the morning to process gas as

if it's the day after Thanksgiving? I've

been in bed with many a girl in the morning while that amazing light pours in

the window, only to find myself focusing on controlling my butt so that no

bombs are emitted. I usually find a way

to get into the bathroom where I just stand there and fart for about two

minutes. Sad thing is, none of my

buddies are there to share some of the most amazing farts I've ever done with

me. Only once, on Spring break, when a

bunch of us were in one bed—the girls we were with were just our buddies—I just

let it loose. One of the girls on the

floor downstairs from us cried out: "ew, gross!" Girls, I'd hate to say it but most guys have

this problem: in the morning we have gas

buildup that, if released, would rip right through floorboards (pine, mahogany,

you name it). However, when we wake up

alone, we are perfectly gas free. Amazing how that works.

Do you

worry about the same sorts of things?

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