Read Online Love Monkey by Kyle Smith - Free Book Online Page B

like a woman!—to look cool.”
    It’s been a long time since black became cool. Can you remember when it wasn’t? I can’t. Every season, black turns out to be the new black.
    â€œDon’t they dress to impress us?”
    â€œIn the eighties women wore shoulder pads,” Shooter says. “Giant ones. Did you tell them it looked good? I didn’t. No guy ever did. They don’t care about us. They told each other it made their waists look smaller. In fact, their waists looked exactly the same and their shoulders looked like they were trying out as linebacker for the Pittsburgh Steelers.”
    â€œAt least we have all the money,” I say.
    â€œThat’s just it! That’s just it!” Shooter says. “Why do we have the money? Why do we work all day?”
    â€œTell it.”
    â€œSo we can spend it on them! Walk by Saks Fifth Avenue in the middle of the day and what do you see?”
    â€œWomen. Buying fifteen-hundred-dollar handbags.”
    â€œSo whose money are they spending? Can’t be their own: if you can afford to drop fifteen bills on a Fendi bag, you’d have to work all day. No, women spend our cash. They have the fun. While they’re out shopping and having lunch and seeing shows, we’re invisible. In our offices. Selling stocks. Writing books. Designing buildings. Men are dy ing, you know. We kill ourselves. Women live ten years longer than men, did you know that? And still every newspaper and magazine runs a story every week about how women’s health care is being neglected. They’re beating us by ten and they’re trying to run up the score! As we get crushed by the stress of our incredibly demanding jobs. We only work for one reason: to get laid. So we can fling woo at beautiful women. So we can say, Look, I can take you to any restaurant you want! Look, I’ve sold my youth to Wall Street for bucks deluxe ! Look, I built this building for you ! I went to war for you ! Beautiful women don’t need to have high-powered jobs. They don’t need to do anything to get laid. All they need to do is show up and look good. So they have to get their hair done a lot. So what? Which is more fun, chatting with François at the beauty factory or being a corporate troll for the Man? They don’t need their own money. If they get a job, they work in pub lishing. They teach kin dergarten. If you see women actually working hard, being big-firm lawyers or something, they’re either, a, too ugly to get a man, b, dykes, or c, just killing time until they marry a senior partner.”
    â€œWhen was the last time you worked?” I say, knowing the answer: 1991. Shooter’s life is a riches-to-riches story. His father owns a big business. You have to take everything he says with a grain elevator of salt.
    Shooter doesn’t answer. Shooter is riffing.
    â€œSo every book that gets written, every movie that gets made, every rock band that rocks, it’s all for some woman.”
    â€œWhat about girl groups?”
    â€œThere are about five of them. The only other girls in music are the singers. Why? Because the singer is the one everyone looks at. Girls want to look good. They don’t want to slave away behind the drum kit. Some guy is back there. Trying to impress the girl with the mike. Everything we do, we do it for the women, and it still isn’t enough.”
    â€œUh-huh,” I say.
    â€œMurder!” he says.
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œWhen men kill, they kill their wife or their girlfriend for leaving them. Or a liquor-store owner so they can get money to spend on some girl. Then they get the death penalty. When women kill, they kill their kids. They get three to five and a shrink.”
    â€œMaybe not in Texas.”
    â€œNow, I’m not saying murder is okay. But which is worse: killing some evil bitch because she fucked your best friend or a helpless little kid because he shit the