“Excuse me, but not all men are like that,” Tyler said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands into the pockets of his vest.
Erika seemed confused. After a literal lifetime of terrible boyfriends and being stupid, she had decided that 100% of men, every husband, father and son, every single one, was awful. That’s what she really meant as she appeared to vent her frustrations to her friend Tyler, saying “I’m so sick of men doing stuff like this.” Erika wasn’t just tired of guys being self-righteous and creepy in their repeated texts and tweets to her. She really did hate all of them. The subtext behind every word was “I am hoping to personally offend every man who has ever lived.”
Tyler knew the truth, and he wasn’t going to sit there and allow menkind to be sullied like this. Not ALL MEN were the wastes of flesh that Erika seemed to be describing in her hateful blanket statements. There were some men who were intelligent and had not been jocks in high school and were Tyler. Tyler was a nice guy, and he was sure of it.
The words seemed to stun Erika, who immediately felt the need to unbutton the top button of her blouse. How insightful! She had seriously under-estimated Tyler’s intelligence AND confidence. In fact, it was TYLER that she should’ve gone to prom with ALL ALONG. The sexual attraction was immediate. Tyler was opening her eyes to an entirely new concept. She had to sex him up. Especially if he was paying for lunch and saying such great things to her.
“There are still some good men out there,” Tyler said, and Erika almost went dizzy with the amount of information that she was being forced to comprehend. This, combined with the volcano in her loins, was making it hard for her to focus on anything but Tyler’s indelible appeal. He was just SO smart. “I really think you’re going about this the wrong way by saying that all men are bad. You’re using reverse sexism.”
Erika replied with “But Tyler, what about feminism?” Tyler laughed, like he’d imagined himself doing when he went over this conversation in his head in the shower. “You feminazi’s are all the same,” he said. “You only argue for your gender when it benefits you.” Erika was stunned. The foundation of feminism was collapsing around her. It wasn’t a method of gaining equality. It was a simply a way to destroy everything masculine in the world. Why didn’t she see this sooner? Thankfully, Tyler was there. Tyler, who had sent her a Facebook message to meet for lunch immediately after she changed her relationship status to “Single.” Tyler, who, despite all the hateful obstacles and doubt placed in his way, prevailed in his endless search for equal treatment for men.
Erika realized the error of her ways. She had been wrong, and she hastily, between lustful gasps for air, admitted it to Tyler. She’d give men the benefit of the doubt for the rest of her days. Tyler, the prophet of all men, had forced her to understand that not all men were like that. Like what? It didn’t matter.
Tyler, pleased with himself, went home, and Snapchatted Erika a picture of his penis.