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Greg Wallace

The lady’s man


Over the course of the next week, I will be taking on a challenge that is so terrifying that I have not been able to get a good night’s sleep for the past couple of months. An endeavor so daunting that I fear I might never be the same after it’s over. What is it that keeps me in such a nervous state you may be asking yourselves? Well I’ll tell you. I’m attending Ladies Night Out in Manlius this Thursday night.

You’re probably asking yourself, “Why would such a masculine, manly man who is practically overflowing with testosterone and unbridled machismo go to an event called ‘Ladies Night Out?’” The answer is simple – a nice lady named Peggy asked me.

I have no idea what happens at this event, and I’m still kind of foggy about why they would even want me there. At first, I thought they confused me with some sort of Chippendale dancer that would be providing entertainment for the evening. Looking in the mirror, I can see their confusion. My wife has assured me on countless occasions, that I am probably mistaken. Just to be on the safe side, I think I’ll take along my fireman outfit with suspenders and tear-away pants. They will have to supply the music for me to gyrate to. ( I suggest either some Motley Crue or Merle Haggard.)

It’s advertised as a “fun-filled evening for ladies to kick-off the beginning of Spring.” There will be vendors exhibiting their wares along with various demonstrations, a mashed-potato bar, Oreo Truffle Balls and even a chocolate fountain. Add the fact that there will be door prizes and a silent auction, everything sounds like it will be all fine and dandy. Or will it be ...

My imagination has come up with all sorts of scenarios that can occur at an event like this. Most of them end up with women getting together to talk about what’s wrong with the men in their lives. I picture the females mentioning, jokingly at first, about how their husbands leave their underwear lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. After a while, the light-hearted kidding about the males of the species takes a turn. A pack mentality takes over, and all of a sudden, the women start a bonfire and start burning their men in effigy. As they apply the war paint and sharpen their spears, one of the crazed leaders looks around and notices that they have an actual guy in their presence. The evening concludes with me helplessly roasted over an open-flame with an apple in my mouth, while the “ladies” sit around the fire drinking flagons of ale telling dirty limericks and belching. Nobody will ever know of my demise because of the unwritten code that says, “Whatever happens at Ladies Night Out stays at Ladies Night Out.” Now you can understand my apprehension.

The last time I remember attending any kind of ladies night out event before, it was when I was a little kid. It was during the day, and I had to go along with my Mom and my sister on their dress-shopping excursions. It could only be described as pure Hell. As the females of my family journeyed from clothing store to clothing store in Princeton, Sterling and Kewanee, Ill., areas, I would mutter things like “Aw Mom, another store?” and “I hate this more than you can possibly imagine.”

The shopping process was usually the same. They would spend eons picking out possible clothing combinations, and then the trying-on process would start. When you are a 6-year-old boy with more energy than common sense, there is nothing more aggravating than knowing that your valuable time is being wasted while your older sister is debating whether or not the bell-bottoms she’s trying on make her butt look big.

I’m hoping Thursday night’s event will turn out better than those dark days from my childhood. Peggy has assured me that it’s fun time, and they have a tremendous turnout. So ladies, if you don’t have anything planned, come to the Trinity Lutheran Church in Manlius. The doors open at 4 p.m. and things wrap up at 8. I plan on being barbecued on the rotisserie at about 7:15.

Oh well, at least there will be Oreo Truffle Balls.

You can contact Wallace at gwallace@bcrnews.com. You can follow him on his blog at http://gregwallaceink.wordpress.com.