Every Friday night around 7:00 this red Dodge Charger pulls up in front of my neighbor’s garage. The man inside is probably in his late 40s. He lays on the horn for a solid 10 count and within a few moments this pretty little blonde, probably late 30s, comes bobbing down the stairs and gets into his car. He peals out when he takes off and I usually don’t see the car again until Saturday morning.
Ok, I know I can’t be the only “old-fashioned” person who thinks this is ridiculous. If Joe and I didn’t live together and he ever pulled up and blared his horn for me to come outside I would probably throw something at his truck. Probably more than one something. Get the hell out of the car and go to the damn door like a motherfucking gentleman.
Maybe I have just been out of the dating world for too long but I expect doors to be opened for me and chairs to be pulled out; heavy things are carried and bathtub drains cleaned out even though it’s my hair because it’s just gross. He leads when we dance and puts his hand on the small of my back to guide me across a crowded room. I don’t have to ask him to do these things, he just does. He likes taking care of me.
Am I crazy? Is chivalry really dead?