A gentleman is a man who, when he pees in the sink, takes the dishes out first.
A Jerk Boy, on the other hand, not only pees in the sink whether there are dishes there or not, but is proud of it, especially if the kitchen is nearer to the bed than the bathroom is.
A Jerk Boy will cheerfully fix your dishwasher or even offer to buy you a new one. Don’t let him do it. A lady accepts only countertop appliances. Then he leaves for two weeks in Chicago without telling you and expect you to welcome him back with hot-n-juicy sex.
If you do have a wonderful romp in bed, he made turn to you afterwards and say tenderly, “How did your butt get so big?” Or he will fart in bed and 30 seconds later ask you to marry him. (Don’t. Just don’t.)
Many JBs are unreconstructed sexists. Personally, I don’t mind that, despite my rabid commitment to feminism. At least with a Jerk Boy, you know where you stand. He won’t open doors, of course, but he also won’t tell you he supports your every ambition and then undercut you with a smile. If he does sandbag you, it will come with a pat on the ass. Also, he will not allow you to pay for the meal or the motel room. If he can’t afford a motel room, he will offer sex in the front seat of his truck. Go for it if you want to – and if you don’t mind getting Doritos crumbs in your underwear.
How can you spot a Jerk Boy? There are definite signs. One JB I know was dating two different women and, to be fair, invited one of them to a wedding and the other one to the reception. Only a Jerk Boy would think this is a good solution, one that won’t cause problems or be appreciated. He will look wide-eyed and innocent and say, “What? Why are you mad at me? At least I’m not playing favorites.” That perplexed look and the phrases “What did I do?” and “What did I say?” are dead giveaways of a Jerk Boy. So is “Sor-REE!” in the tone that says, “No, I’m not.” Also if you ask a question and they repeat it back to you.
Every man is a Jerk Boy at times. Even the most sensitive have their JB moments. One day I heard my husband say, out of the blue, “No, Mom, of course Janet doesn’t mind if you come to stay for two weeks at Christmas. Here, Janet, tell her you don’t mind” [hands me the phone].
By now you may have some questions.
Is Jerk-Boydom composed entirely of rednecks? The simple answer is no. My husband, for example, is from the Philly area. JB-hood is an equal opportunity state of mind, not a state of state. Some notably famous Jerk Boys include Bill Clinton, Hugh Grant, and, most likely, Henry VIII.
Are there equivalent Jerk-Girls? Probably. In fact, writing this may prove that I myself am one. But I leave that question for future sociologists to explore, after they’ve figured out the effects of poverty and violence, and the behavior of Furries.
Most women have, or have had, a Jerk Boy in their lives. Why do we keep them around? That’s a good question.
Jerk boys can be fun and sexy, when they’re not peeing in the sink, that is. They are decidedly uninhibited, positively boisterous, and maddeningly self-agenda-ed. You can enjoy them or ignore them. But whatever you do, don’t try to change them. That only increases the Jerkitude.
Proceed at your own risk.