Here’s the scenario: on my deck are huge, weighty wooden planters of flowers, the cause my landlord suspects, of flooding in the apartment below. He wants those monster planters off my deck and OUT of there. Swell. If I were a guy, I’d simply flex a muscle or two and haul those babies downstairs. But I’m not; I’m an average size female. Not weak, but nowhere near strong enough for getting the job done in this century. Lugging all that dirt in manageable amounts down four flights would take forever and as for the thick wooden planters themselves – forget it. Even when empty, I could barely budge the things.
So once more, the building superintendent gets another job making him richer and me poorer. In the past I’ve paid him paid to haul away god knows how many defunct air conditioners, TV’s and computer monitors (lifting my first 80’s monitor was like lifting a Volkswagen).
More than the money though, I hate that I’m simply not strong enough to schlep my belongings from here to there whenever I feel like it. This inconvenience is plain annoying: the having to contact some Mr. Muscles, the scheduling, the hanging around waiting for Muscles to show.
Speaking to a friend living in the suburbs, I discovered she too abhorred not having the physical strength to hoist heavy stuff around her house, chores that her husband used to take care of before he became ill. Between currently caring for him and working full time, she’s got a mighty full plate, and little patience for things that slow her down, like having to summon help for chores demanding more strength than hers.
This disparity in physical strength plays out in smaller ways too. Currently in temperamental getting-stuck-mode, our brownstone basement door has been taped on the side to make it easier to open and get to the garbage cans. But even when I wrench out my shoulder tugging at that mother door I’ve had a number of No goes. Meaning leaving garbage bags sitting in the downstairs hall. Not elegant.
Another big positive for men and their superior strength — they can go where they want when they want and nobody will mess with them. Around midnight some winters ago when the snow was deep and still falling, a male friend suggested we take a walk in Central Park. Was he kidding? Central Park in the dead of the night? As a female I would no more consider that then hopping a rocket to Mars. A big fellow, he scoffed at my hesitation and concern. So up we booted and off we went. By then it had stopped snowing. The moon was bright and glittering on the Great Lawn. Another couple appeared, their dog happily bouncing through the snowdrifts. All was white and silver and clean and silent. A beautiful night, one I would have missed if not for Male Muscles beside me.
And yes, these vexations could vanish with a man around the joint. But as I’ve already discovered, that can sometimes lead to the exchange of one set of hitches for another…
Where do you stand in this male/female physical strength equation?
More on city living:
- Safety Tips for NYC Newcomers
- Why do New Yorkers Live Longer?
- Picnic in NYC with a King and a Guitar
- Happily Living Dirt Cheap in New York City
- The Day Burglars Broke my Apartment Door in Half
- 40 Super Free Attractions in New York City
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