Thought I would share a chaper from the not-soon-to-be-released book I am co-authoring with a delightful lass named Kate Mider. In He Said She Said, we explore the most monumental questions of the 21st century that may (or may not) divide the sexes, such as “Why do all girls think they are ’so like Carrie Bradshaw?’” and “Why do guys sometimes cheat with girls who are (sometimes a lot) less attractive than their girlfriend/wife?”

How this works: – in one chapter, I pose a question and we both answer it. In the next she poses a question and we both answer it. And so on.

My friend covers his ears when his wife pees. Does this mean they’re not as comfortable with each other as they could or should be?

My response:

Being a white male, I have never started a sentence with “I might be in the minority here …” but well, I think its use is justified in this circumstance because although we’ve been conditioned to believe that true love entails an open bathroom door policy, I think that’s just a bunch of malarkey, which I think is Spanish for poo.

So yes, when a girl I am dating uses the bathroom to pee, I cover my ears. Sometimes I take it a step further by cranking up the Metallica, running the food disposal and requesting a flyby of F-16s.

Or I’ll just leave the house for a few hours. If I know she’s had a lot to drink and might need to use the bathroom several times, I’ll get a hotel. Or rent a villa.

First of all, true love is bullshit. That’s just a concept that single people throw around to make themselves feel better when it’s Saturday night at 11:30 and they’re home spooning their dog and eating burritos from the gas station.

If you do believe in true love, so be it. And since you’re not busy next Saturday at 11:30 why don’t you attend a mixer I’m hosting at my town home? The Easter Bunny is bringing wine, the Loch Ness Monster is making fondue, and the three Billy Goats Gruff will be taking care of the beer. So, bring some liquor if you want the hard stuff, otherwise, we’re all set. 

Second of all, let’s assume for the moment that true love does exist. Shakespeare wrote of something comparable in Sonnet 16, when he penned the lines, “Love … is an ever fixed mark that is never shaken. It is the star to every wandering bark.”

So basically, Billy Shakes thinks love in unconquerable. Again, let’s assume this is possible.

Still, having said that, you never see him use the lines, “It’s time for your pee my lady. I trumpet our comfort and doth toast its resounding stream to the applause of fairies.”

As couples, you do everything with one another. You sleep together; you eat together; you sit in the same car together; you spend your free time together bonding over common interests and activities. Even if all this leaves you disenchanted and unhappy, you go to therapy. Together.

The bathroom is not meant to be experienced together. The toilet is not meant to be confused with a water cooler.

Bathrooms have doors and locks for a reason – and that reason is not so that two people of the opposite sex can bolt themselves inside and be comfortable together.

Whether I’ve been dating someone two days or two years, I lock the bathroom door, and I think that’s normal. You are welcome to knock and ask me, ”Can I come in?” but  I will probably tell you that I am almost done before finishing up, opening the door, walking past you in a highly annoyed state of mind, and shaking my head disapprovingly when you’re not looking.

Then, an hour later, when I need to call my friend Worm, I’ll steal your phone from your ear, effectively interrupting your own personal call. When you look at me oddly, and ask me what I’m doing, I’ll say:

“I need to do my business so I thought we could use your cell phone at the same time.”

I’ll ask you why you have to be so weird about things, why you don’t want to be close, and why you don’t love me.

Then I will cry and eat a pan of brownies.