“Batman can’t handle Catwoman because she’s sexual in her own way, and if she’s sexual in her way and not his, then he has to satisfy her and he may not be able to. How can he dominate a woman he can’t satisfy sexually? How can he control a person who has her own agenda? How can you tame a wildcat fighting for her own survival?”
A trail of smoke poured from Kim’s lips. “I totally need to see that movie again.”
Dave and I glared at each other. He was just about to attack my Catwoman theory when Kim flailed her hands in the air as if she’d burnt them.
“Oh my God,” she shouted. “I’m Batgirl. I just realized I’m Batgirl. I wanna be Catwoman but I’m really Batgirl. Oh God, who else is there? Pick somebody else. I don’t wanna be Batgirl!”
“You’re not Batgirl,” Dave assured her.
“I’m totally Batgirl,” she whined. “Oh God, this is terrible.”
“Well, even if you were Batgirl, it’d be okay,” I said. “She’s the one Batman loved.”
“No, Batman loved Vicki Vale,” Kim whined. “And she didn’t have any power at all.”
According to Dave, lust and admiration were mutually exclusive concepts for some men. Apparently for these guys, the two-hour conversation a woman had about the implications of Derrida’s quasi-transcendental thinking on modern deconstructive theory was erased by the image of her boobies jiggling as she grinded him into the box spring.
Kim wasn’t interested in smothering her sexual passions and didn’t really buy Dave’s Batman analogy. However, she did come to one conclusion. Whether she was Batgirl or Catwoman, she had to stop knockin’ around with jokers.
**Reprinted from Laura K. Warrell's blog Tart and Soul at www.TartandSoul.com.