Picture if you will, a well lit Italian restaurant on the mid-east side of Manhattan.
The sommelier, a skinny man of about 30, long thin nose, tuffle of brown hair, is skittering about pouring glasses of red wine for a room full of ladies, tilting the cool bottle with his reed like fingers. He is stopped, mid-pour, mid-explanation, and asked for his phone number. No lead in, no build up, one of the girls just casually drops the question like a receipt from her purse. Soft, natural. As bold as the wine in the sommelier's hands. And he pauses, befuddled. He puts down the bottle of wine and with her pen scribbles his digits with a smile...
There is a new version of woman out there. And she lives like a man but loves like a woman.
I see her all over the place: smart, sexy, stylish, fun. She goes after what she wants without even realizing it. She's claiming what's hers and deconstructing social gender boxes one heel stomp at a time. I call her: the bachelor.
Now bachelor has typically been a name for the male species, but the time has come for this term to span genders. After all, the noun's female counterpart, bachelorette, doesn't hold its weight. It brings to mind princess tiaras and midriffs, candy colored girls who cry in the bathroom and wear bunny ears to the bar. But bachelor. Yes, bachelor-- it runs off the tongue with a swiftness, an assuredness that's heavy with class, independence, financial freedom.
Gone are the days of aprons and pea casseroles. A bachelor sips on Bourbon, she orders pea souffle from the restaurant down the street. She is free, adventurous, and open to all of life's pleasures. With no shame, no blame.
Now, that doesn't mean she's hard shelled or cynical. It doesn't mean she's trying to prove her equality. No, this breed of woman doesn't knock men at all. In fact, she adores them. Truly. Because there's no need involved. Bachelors choose to spend time with men because they enjoy them, celebrate them & the differences they bring to the table. A world of women would be a bore.
But to ignore the emergence of this new woman inhibits her celebration. Because we women get a hard wrap sometimes. While men are allowed to 'spit their game', women are supposed to work hard and go home and bake the cookies...what?!
Seriously, though. I've heard the stories, male co-workers asking Susie in the office to bake brownies. And she does. Which is fine by me. But I chose instead to claim a seat at the bachelor table, to embody all its approval and style without having to wear the tie.
In short, the time has come to toast these fabulous females. And their impatience with long cuddle sessions, their rejection of social pressures, their love of men, and refusal to wait for the phone call. Cause, damn Sam, this girl's got a black book too and it keeps her as busy as she wants when she chooses to open it.
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