#175 Who’s the Man?
I grew up where men were men and women knew their place. My dear old Mom would never backtalk to Pa. She knew he would respond like a real man and slap her across the face. I saw him do it a few times, and I felt bad for her, but he slapped me harder when I stepped out of line.
That’s the way it was and when Pa said, “Throughout this great country of ours, women have always known their place. Things were fine until woman libbers instigated equality into the heads of our mail-order-brides. There should be a law for agitators like that so they are strung up and flogged for dispensing dissatisfaction. Any fool knows women aren’t equal to men. They can’t hunt, fish, or do nearly anything a man can. Hell, most women see a fight and tremble at the sight.”
Pa put a shell in his shotgun. “My wife was fine till those fucking lesbians filled her ears with that inequality shit, and she changed to a bitch that needed to be hit.”
I always listened to Pa. If I didn’t, he’d beat the heck out of me. He’d fight at the drop of a hat and was a hero in the war. Pa could out-drink anyone. He even made his own moonshine that he sold by the gallon. The sheriff never bothered him. He knew Pa was above the law. He was respected by men in the county for the way he was, and everyone considered him a real man.
So when I married Miss Priscilla, I had to adjust her attitude. I tried to treat her like my daddy said I should. When I told her what to do, she sassed me back. I slapped her face. She kicked my ass. I told her I was the boss, and she said, “Sleep on the couch.” I spent my pay getting drunk. To get even, she went fishing and hunting. Then she went and sold her ass.
To put her in her place I hit her with a two-by-four, and she had me put in jail. I found it hard to be a real man while she wore the pants, but I had to make my
Daddy proud and prove I was a man. So the day I got out of jail, I went to the store to buy a gun, but because hitting her was a felony they turned me down. I figured I’d get her drunk and then I could whip her ass for all the trouble she had caused. I spent the money I had intended to buy a gun with for three quarts of my Daddy’s favorite liquor from the still behind the school instead.
She drank two to my one, and I was the one who got smashed. Looking at her through drunken eyes I saw the girl I desired when I married her. So we had sex, and now I don’t care that she’s the boss, because I’m in love, and when I lay with her I become a big, big, man, and I don’t even mind when she slaps my face when I get out of line.