Chivalry Is Dead

I guess I must be old-fashioned.  Yesterday in the grocery store I’m standing in the checkout line chuckling over the womens’ magazine cover proclaiming "Great Holiday Looks" over pictures of Kate Hudson, Eva Longoria and Beyonce Knowles.  Ummm…yes, if you look like one of those women you have a great holiday look.  Guess what GQ, I think if I looked like Heath Ledger I wouldn’t have too many worries about my holiday style.
 
Anyhow…this young couple checks out ahead of me and heads for the door.  He’s walking first, she’s a pace or two behind him.  She’s carrying all four of their grocery bags, he’s carrying…nothing.  Hmmm. 
 
First of all my wife almost never goes to the grocery store, I do all the grocery shopping, but when she does go to the store, she would never have to carry the bags out to the car.  Either I carry all of them or we put them in the cart, which I usually push.  It’s not that she’s not capable of carrying groceries, but she shouldn’t have to.  I’m a guy and I carry heavy stuff — it’s just what I do.  I tend to carry most of the luggage at the airport too.
 
I was just really surprised to see this young woman follow her strapping boyfriend (no rings so I’m guessing they weren’t married) out the door while carrying all of the groceries.
 
But wait…there’s more.  After I put my groceries in the truck I walked across the lot to Starbucks to get my wife a latte and a scone.  When I get there who is standing in line in front of me?  That same woman.  Boyfriend is nowhere in sight.  I’m thinking to myself "No way did this clod send his girl into Starbucks, alone, to get him coffee."  She gets to the counter and orders two coffees.  He meets her on the sidewalk on the way out.  I wonder if he made her pay for it too?
 
I guess I’m just an old fuddy-duddy.  I still open doors for women, pull out their chairs at restaurants, pay for the lattes and my wife never has to carry anything she doesn’t want to carry.  Not that women can’t open their own doors and buy their own coffee, just seems like the gentlemanly thing to do.  Am I wrong, ladies?
 
Alas poor chivalry.  Time of death: 18:35.
 
-B-
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