Over here, my coworker Heidi recounts an experience we had Friday and asks an honest question:

but what is it about grown men that cling to the idea that women gather and discuss betty lou’s new haircut, their boyfriends and the state of jello molds? and why are they so shocked, or in this case enlightened, when the conversation turns to sex, gossip, graphic descriptions of hair removal, lubricants and threesomes?

Also, an adendum to her recounting of the story: the guy used his cell phone as a prop to eavesdrop on us. He sat there with his phone to his ear for 20 minutes, looking off into space, clearly listening to our conversation.

This makes no sense unless you read Heidi’s post, so go.