Men are from Mars, women are from Venus.
Actually I’m from Forest Lodge, in Sydney, but I forgive John Gray for not knowing that. Wallington lives here too.
How was John to know that we don’t come from another planet? It could happen. Lots of people do.
Prime Minister Tony Abbott, for example, lives on a planet that spins off-orbit somewhere in a howling, lost universe. With Sir Prince Philip. I hope they’re happy. And heading into deep space.
I’ve not read MAFMWAFV but tonight I thought maybe men and women are different – apart from the planet, penis, vagina thing.
Wallington asks questions that women from other planets might ask if such women existed and spoke English and had our Western middle-class values.
I had a few beers with a mate after work and when I got home Wallington asked questions I didn’t.
‘What did they do on Australia Day? Why is Lisa in Melbourne? Why didn’t I invite Laurence home for dinner? How is his sister coping with the new baby?’ Etc, but more personal.
All good questions. Why didn’t I ask them?
Because they weren’t mine.
‘What did you talk about?’ Wallington wondered, intergalactically.
‘2001 a space odyssey and 70s American movies. That last over in the Big Bash – unbelievable! Abbott’s worthlessly stupid Knighthood for Prince Philip. Global warming. Penis size. Venus women.’ That sort of thing.
Wallington was not astonished, in a disappointed sort of way.
We are different. Sometimes she gets home off the bus and tells me the intimate details of the life of the person who happened to sit next to her: a dying mother in the RPA, a trip to Sydney from Ireland to greet a new grand daughter, a dancer in the chorus at the Opera House sleeping on a friend’s couch In Balmain.
The bus from Venus.