Men Are Raccoons

Last night at 3:00 AM I arrived home after the gig and surprised a family of raccoons. It got me thinking how men are like raccoons. Allow me to explain.

Being a woman I focus on perfecting the face and hair, but I know that's not what men notice. My outfit last night consisted of a flared, strapless minidress and silver stilettos. The gams on display were key to my popularity.

The gig was great, and I sang well and felt increasingly confident about the arrangements of all the songs. But the higher-than-normal level of male attention was yet another example of how men can be totally manipulated with hair, makeup and clothes.

I know this because I can just as easily make myself completely invisible to men.

Granted, confidence is the best outfit-enhancer there is. If I'm pleased with how my costume -- that's how I think of it -- looks, that radiates outward.

But men, like raccoons, are attracted to shiny things. I have a tank top that is covered in sequins. It is loose-fitting, not revealing at all, and forgiving if I've just eaten an enormous pot of pozole. Throw that sucker on and the men come running. What is it about this gold tank top that renders them helpless to resist? I've decided it's simply because it has hundreds of sparkling disks attached to it.

That's not the only way in which men are raccoons. There's also the fact that men have opposable digits and they love to unfasten things, or stick their hands somewhere they don't belong. Once they've got hold of whatever it is they were reaching for, they're so curious they won't let go. Not even if they're in imminent danger.

Men are raccoons because they're all bluster and swagger, but shine a headlamp in their beady eyes and they lope unevenly back into the storm drains decorated with bottle caps and lingerie ads they proudly call home.

Men are raccoons because while they're out carousing they seem unattached and debonair, but if you make the mistake of following them as they scurry into the sewer, surprise! The wife and six kids pop their adorable little heads out to see what's going on.

Men are raccoons because by day they are docile, progressive and logy. By night they paw through every trash bin on the block. The more rarified the stench, the more exotic the garbage, the more intoxicatingly irresistible it is to them.

Men, like raccoons, are next to impossible to trap. When cornered they can be quite dangerous. Poisoning them is not advisable. They are frequently parasitized by lice, ticks, fleas and various types of worms, and have been known to have rabies, tuberculosis, distemper and, most often, bad temper.

I love men, I do. But for months now mama's been out clubbing multiple times per week singing in bands, thanks to the recession, and now she sees the truth. It's a little depressing. Raccoons are cute, and I'd never harm one. But they sure are filthy scavengers. Damn it.