It’s Tuesday, or topic day for the Demystifying Divas and the Men’s Club, and the issue is “Why don’t men call?”

Below sits the clearly marked “Exhibit B,” a quote from the 1996 movie, Swingers, wherein Trent gets a phone number:

Trent: “Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh…”

Mike, Rob, and Sue look on.

Sue: “Here comes the kill…”

The JAWS THEME reaches its violent crescendo as the girl looks into her purse.
Trent winks to the boys. Smooth.
She comes up with a pen and writes our her phone number.
Trent crosses back as the music dies away.
Using his body as a shield so the girl can’t see, but so his boys can, he rips up and drops the number as he approaches them.

Trent: “Was I money?”

Mike: “I don’t know. It was kind of a dick move if you ask me. You asked her for her number, and then you tore it up.”

Trent: “She didn’t see.”

Mike: “That doesn’t matter.”

Sue: “That was pretty cold, dude”

Trent: “She offered me her number. What should I have said? ‘No’? That would’ve hurt her feelings. This way she feels like the winner.”

Trent smiles and waves to her across the room. She coyly waves back and makes a “phone sign” with her hand. Trent nods and smiles.

Ah, a night at the pub with the guys and their entertaining stories, which used to be a regular occurrence for me, in my misguided attempt to find the holy grail concerning male/female interactions. Out of all of this, I reached but one grand conclusion – no matter how many exotic foreign beers you toss my way, my favourite drink is still the ubiquitous frozen margarita.

At any rate, back to the bar chat, would it surprise you to hear that the rituals of dating can be more terrifying than life-threatening situations? This fellow that I know works in what you’d consider to be a dangerous profession, one in which he faces danger that most of us will never know. Yet this makes him far less apprehensive than picking up the telephone and dialing seven numbers.

Okay, so I made the obligatory mention of Swingers, which is almost certainly becoming akin to a field manual, considering how many times we have utilized its wisdom. The phone call scene, remember? That was excruciatingly painful to watch, wasn’t it? The collective experience is that we all begged Mike outloud, in an incredible display of audience participation, to just stop, put down the receiver, and slowly back away from the phone. He couldn’t. He was frozen, and as such, virtually unable to stop the pattern of behavior. How can we explain the difference in the level of mental anguish between this and the life-endangering situation?

The answer is pretty simple – that different hormones are running each set of circumstances. Adrenaline dictates the life-threatening situation, whereas testosterone runs the phone call to the chick. When adrenaline is in charge of a situation, your body goes into fight-or-flight mode, and automatically your body will do what it must do. The hair stands on end, the pupils dilate, the blood sugar and metabolic rate skyrocket. This all prepares your body to take immediate and vigorous action. The body will fight, and when the danger is too great, here comes the flight.

Now what I didn’t know is that when adrenaline is released by the adrenal medulla [don't worry, I am keeping this brief], it totally prevents the production of testosterone from the adrenal cortex, along with its release into the bloodstream. This is the body’s way of keeping one from freaking out in the truly dangerous situation – self-medication really. So what does this tell us? Only that men are prey to hormonal hysterics, and therefore they are equally as fucked up as “wimmens.” That is my perspective, at any rate. Interesting, no?

The other three Darling Demystifying Divas have more for you. Kathy even has “Exhibit A” from the same movie! Also, you must visit the four men of the Men’s Club!