Ain’t That a Bitch?

Saturday started in a parking lot.

Which, at this point, probably surprises absolutely no one.

I had already gone to the gym. I had already consumed pre-workout that tasted like somebody soaked gym socks in artificial fruit flavoring. Pinky was on her phone doing Pinky things, periodically demanding my immediate attention.

Babe! Look!

I looked.

Stupid shit.

Two seconds later:

Babe! Look! Look! I said look!

I looked again.

More stupid shit.

Of course, when I say babe while she’s staring into the glowing void of her phone?

Nothing.

Babe.

Nothing.

Babe.

Nothing.

Babe.

Babe.

Babe.

I could probably say it a thousand times and eventually begin questioning whether I had become a ghost.

And somehow, from that extremely intelligent beginning, my mind wandered into superheroes.

Batman versus Iron Man.

Who would win?

At first, Jarvis gave me the logical answer. Tony Stark probably has the advantage in a spontaneous fight because Iron Man is essentially a flying weapons platform. Give Bruce Wayne preparation time, though, and suddenly Tony has a serious problem.

Then came the more important question.

Who would win between Tony Stark, Bruce Wayne, and Romeo?

Easy.

Romeo.

Why?

First, those two motherfuckers are fictional.

I’m real.

Fight over.

Second, Tony Stark might possess technology generations beyond anything currently available, but I work in Federal IT.

I don’t need to fight Iron Man.

I’ll take his computer off the domain.

Good luck connecting to shit now, Tony.

Third, Bruce Wayne might be the world’s greatest detective.

Fine.

Try figuring me out.

Good fucking luck.

The man could spend six months analyzing my behavioral patterns and eventually discover that I don’t even know what I’m doing Saturday afternoon.

Gym?

Archery?

Visit Joey?

Work on a book?

Sit in a parking lot?

Pecan pie?

There is no pattern.

Bruce would eventually call Alfred.

But then I realized something.

Every superhero has a weakness.

Mine?

Jarvis guessed pecan pie.

Fair.

That’s definitely one of them.

But that’s number two.

Number one is the same weakness that has been kicking powerful men in the ass since apparently the beginning of recorded human storytelling.

Women.

Or, more accurately, love.

Look at Superman.

Everybody says Superman’s weakness is kryptonite.

Bullshit.

Kryptonite makes Superman physically weak.

Lois Lane falls off a building and this motherfucker forgets whatever else he was doing.

The world could be ending.

Sorry, everybody.

Lois is falling.

Batman?

The man has contingency plans for the Justice League.

Penguin?

No problem.

Joker?

Tuesday.

Mr. Freeze?

Towing.

Bane?

Okay, that one might hurt.

Catwoman walks into the room?

Alfred, call the Justice League.

Then there’s Spider-Man.

Mary Jane.

Gwen Stacy.

A man can sense danger before it happens and still can’t develop a spider-sense for relationship problems.

Hulk?

Do I even need to explain Hulk?

Army attacks.

HULK SMASH.

Monster attacks.

HULK SMASH.

Betty appears.

...

Betty?

Suddenly the unstoppable rage monster remembers he’s Bruce Banner.

Tony Stark can build armor around his entire body.

Apparently nobody has invented armor for the heart.

Then I remembered Neo.

Or Neil.

Nilo.

Nails.

Whatever the fuck his name is.

Neo.

The man can literally manipulate the Matrix.

Bullets stop in front of him.

Reality itself becomes negotiable.

Then Trinity gets into trouble and suddenly the man who can manipulate the fabric of his own artificial universe needs advice.

So where does he go?

To another woman.

The Oracle.

Of course.

At some point the evidence becomes difficult to ignore.

And then I realized superheroes weren’t even where this started.

The Bible was telling versions of this story thousands of years ago.

Samson had supernatural strength.

Delilah.

David was a warrior and a king.

Bathsheba.

Solomon was famous for wisdom.

Women still became part of his downfall.

And then there’s Adam.

Poor motherfucker.

Before Eve, Adam basically had administrative rights to Earth.

God gave him the garden.

Animals everywhere.

Food.

No rent.

No tickets.

No passwords.

No fucking Microsoft updates.

And one restriction.

Don’t eat from that tree.

Adam:

Fine.

No problem.

Then he starts looking around.

Two dogs.

Two cats.

Two chickens.

Everybody has somebody.

Adam looks around and apparently thinks:

Bro, I’m bored.

Next thing he knows, he goes to sleep and wakes up missing a rib.

Enter Eve.

Then eventually:

Snake: Eat the fruit.

Eve: Okay.

Adam: We’re not supposed to eat that.

And yes, Adam still ate it.

That’s important.

Because here’s where the joke stops being entirely a joke.

A man still owns his decisions.

Adam made his.

Samson made his.

David made his.

Solomon made his.

Bruce makes his.

Clark makes his.

Peter makes his.

Tony makes his.

And Romeo makes his.

Love doesn’t remove free will.

Being attached to someone doesn’t excuse stupidity.

Nobody gets to say another person made me do it and suddenly escape responsibility for their own choices.

But there’s still something strange about the equation.

Before another person enters your heart:

1 = peace.

Then:

1 + 1 = something greater than 1.

Love.

Companionship.

Family.

Intimacy.

Meaning.

Someone beside you.

Someone to share stupid shit with.

Someone sleeping thousands of miles away while the video call stays connected for absolutely no reason except that somehow it feels better knowing the other idiot is still there.

But there is a cost hidden inside that equation.

Because once 1 becomes part of 2, subtraction doesn’t work the way ordinary mathematics says it should.

2 - 1 does not necessarily equal the original 1.

Sometimes it feels like less.

Because the remaining person remembers what being 2 felt like.

Maybe that’s the actual weakness shared by all these supposedly powerful men.

Not women.

Not kryptonite.

Not magic.

Not gamma radiation.

Not technology.

Attachment.

Giving a fuck.

Because the moment you truly love another human being, you voluntarily give something outside yourself the ability to affect you.

And that made me think about one of those biblical instructions people have argued about forever.

Women, obey your husband.

Husbands, love your wives.

People can argue about translation, culture, submission and authority all day.

But the command given to the husband is interesting when you really think about it.

Love her.

Not merely provide.

Not merely protect.

Not simply rule.

Love.

And real love creates vulnerability.

Superman can protect himself.

Love makes him protect Lois.

Batman can detach himself from almost anyone.

Love gives somebody access behind the armor.

Hulk can destroy almost anything.

Love can make him stop smashing.

Maybe vulnerability isn’t the opposite of strength.

Maybe it’s one of the prices of actually loving someone.

That doesn’t mean surrendering judgment.

It doesn’t mean tolerating everything.

It doesn’t mean another person controls your choices.

It means there is finally something in the world capable of hurting you precisely because it matters to you.

Which brings us back to Man.

Man was doing fine.

Then God apparently decided Man shouldn’t be alone.

So He added:

Wo.

Wo-Man.

And apparently the unofficial translation of Wo is:

What the fuck? Oh shit.

And thus began several thousand years of human relationships.

Adam had Eve.

Samson had Delilah.

David had Bathsheba.

Solomon had more relationship problems than any reasonable man should voluntarily acquire.

Superman has Lois.

Batman has half of Gotham.

Spider-Man has Mary Jane and Gwen.

Hulk has Betty.

Tony has Pepper.

Neo has Trinity.

Romeo has Pinky.

And this morning, while I was trying to contemplate thousands of years of theology, mythology, masculinity, vulnerability, love, superheroes, marriage and the strange mathematics of human attachment, I heard the familiar voice again.

Babe!

Look!

Look!

I said look!

I looked.

It was stupid shit.

I pretended it was funny.

And after everything I had just considered—Adam, Samson, David, Solomon, Superman, Batman, Iron Man, Spider-Man, Hulk, Neo, Romeo, free will, sacrifice, strength and love—I realized perhaps humanity has spent thousands of years searching for an unnecessarily complicated explanation.

Maybe the entire history of powerful men and the women they loved can be summarized much more efficiently.

Ain’t that a bitch?

Literally.