How Ana Tigre Made Me A Better Man

I’m a meat and potatoes kinda guy. Where I come from a conversation about the environment is called a talk about the weather, that men have and it’s conveined in a coffee shop. They serve black coffee there, one kind, that you can add some cream and sugar to if you are feeling in touch with your feminine side. 

We ride Harleys, and drive pickup trucks, and hunting is just something we do, nobody asks why.

Hair styles are called hair cuts and you get one at a barber shop. There are generally two kinds, a crew cut, or some variation of that, and a curly mullet for the unabashed ladies man. Although bald has come into vogue in recent years. 

We wear Wrangler jeans, at 17 bucks a pair from Walmart, and they are suitable attire for most occasions as long as they are paired with a snap-button collar shirt when in mixed company and we are sitting down to eat. And if doesn’t fit in a wallet, it goes in a pocket or it stays in the truck. We don’t carry purses.

Ana is more progressive than I am. The environment is a complex and critical issue to her and because of her voicing those concerns to me, I am equally as concerned for our planet. She eats gluten free food and because I do too, I don’t suffer with the host of maladies I once did. I rarely need anti-biotics anymore, instead I swallow ass-in-a-bottle drops labeled as Oregano oil. I eat organically, I shower with some kind of natural soap, and I chew each mouthful 32 times before swallowing.

I brush my teeth after every breath, I drink apple cider vinnegar tea, and I live on green smoothies filled with things she is sure will prolong my life that I don’t know how to spell. I could buy ten pairs of Wranglers for what it costs to buy one pair of the jeans I wear now, four pair for one of my cheapest shirts. But the way she looks at me when I get dressed now is worth every penny.

I carry a messenger bag, with a wallet inside, but I prefer to call it a holster for whichever pistol I prefer to accessorize with that day. There is usually an ipad in there, as well as a charger, some wet wipes, a notebook, a couple pens, a back scratcher, hand cleaner, some tissues, and I think there is some gum in there somewhere. But it’s not a purse!

The point, I have concluded, is that Ana Tigre married a Neanderthal and her taste in men is horribly suspect. I, on the other hand, have impeccalbe taste and the very highest of standards.

When her parents came to visit we went with them to San Diego. San Diego is a military town, something that appeals to guys like me. But we didn’t visit the Midway (the air craft carrier museum), or the flight museum in Balboa Park, or the Navy Seal Museum. We did much better.

We went to the farmers market held each saturday downtown, and I am a much better man for it.

This Week

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