Title: Why Men Are Just Happier People
Author: WesFan1234
Summary: Cordelia wonders why men seem to be happier because she knows she's the superior sex.
Rating: PG, because of language
Disclaimer: Cordelia and her guys are the property of Joss Whedon and company. I'm just having fun with them.
Note: A girlfriend of mine sent me this list on e-mail and I thought, this is funny. I read this right after listening to the commentary on "Spin the Bottle" fourth season, which is absolutely hilarious, by the way. Listen to two guys be goofy for 45 minutes and you'll see why I was inspired. And yes, I do live in a household full of guys too. I really know how Cordy feels sometimes. This should take place early second season, before anyone got too broody. Don't kill me if this isn't funny, because I don't do the funny for the most part.
Cordelia sat at her computer late into the night, wondering if the guys were going to come back anytime soon. The three had rushed off after a vision to fight the bad guys, leaving her nursing a headache the size of New Jersey. Men, she thought. They could just leave, simple as that. Women on the other hand had to hold down the fort, as the saying went. Not that she believed any of that crap, but it just seemed in her life it was true. Sure, she could fight, handling a sword with the best of them. But, hey, Vision Girl and the big migraines not so conducive to fighting icky demons right at the moment.
Angel used to leave Wesley with her, who could annoy her to death just by hovering. Then the man got a spine and joined Angel fighting. She thought it had something to do with Gunn and competition, but what did she know. She's just a girl, she groaned sarcastically. In some way though, she knew she had it better than the guys. Girls were better in her book, but the guys just seemed to be happier.
It was when she checked her e-mail, she had to chuckle. Willow had sent her a list of why men are happier. She had to agree with it one hundred percent. As she scanned the list, memories popped up to cover each item.
Your last name stays put. – Damn straight, she thought. Wesley had complained one day about people getting his name misspelled constantly.
"I'm not sure why people cannot look at the name and spell it correctly."
"Well, those hyphenated names are way too hard to figure out," Cordelia chided him.
"It's not that difficult. If I ever marry, it will make a wonderful addition."
"As if, you dork."
The garage is all yours. – Or as in Angel's case, the basement is all yours. She didn't dare touch so much as a hair in that basement. The only time she tried to, Angel had pitched a fit. I guess no more flowers for him, she thought.
Wedding plans take care of themselves. – Not something she'd ever have to worry about hanging out with these dumbasses. Since they thought women took care of all party plans, that pretty much covered every kind of party.
"Whose birthday?" Gunn piped up.
"Wesley's," Angel answered. "Cordy will get cake and streamers. She's good at that sort of thing."
"Not really," she yelled from her seat.
Chocolate is just another snack. – Oh boy, did guys not get the fact that chocolate was a wonder drug. It cured everything, from bad boyfriends to sad movie moments.
"I need chocolate," Cordelia asked Wesley.
"Why on earth would you want some now?"
"Because if you don't get me some, I'll make sure that you never find a file again in that office."
"Sure. What kind might I get you?"
You can be president. – Not that she ever wanted to be president.
"God, she's just scary. Look at that," Angel announced, sitting on the sofa watching television.
"What's scary?" Cordelia wanted to know.
"That woman."
Cordelia wandered over to see what Angel was watching. "She's not scary. She's just a politician."
"No guy would ever look like that."
Cordelia threw a pillow and hit him square in the face. "Pig."
You can never be pregnant. – Oh, don't get her started on that one. Only she could be impregnated by some guy with demon spawn. Wesley had looked at her like she had grown two heads that day. She'd like to see how he handled it if it had happened to him. He'd probably scream until someone punched his lights out.
You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. –
"No, Cordy, everyone is not looking at you," Gunn stated as everyone in the restaurant looked her way after the waiter had dumped water down her front.
"You are," she said, bringing her fist back.
You can wear NO T-shirt to a water park. –
"Don't even say it Angel," Cordelia told him as she marched through the door of the hotel.
"No one even noticed."
"That is the last time I go with you to clean out a nest of those demon thingys."
Cordelia had Angel's coat draped over herself.
"Sorry?"
"Damn horny demons."
Car mechanics tell you the truth. – Cordelia sat at the auto mechanic for over an hour before the guy decided to come out from under her car.
"Well?" she asked.
Gunn walked up behind her.
The mechanic passed her by to chat with Gunn. "Well?"
"Your carburetor is shot," he told Gunn, ignoring the fact that it was HER car.
Damn, she wished she had brought her crossbow just to make a point.
The world is your urinal. – Cordelia had been waiting in the alley with the guys for over an hour, ready to do battle with some pretty nasty demons. Why on earth did it smell so bad whenever she decided to join the guys? Because they are disgusting creatures, she thought, looking over at Gunn. He stood in a corner in a shadow.
"You are not doing what I think you are doing?" she screeched.
You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky. – Cordelia stepped out of the restroom, almost gagging at the sight.
"Let's go," she said, holding her hand over her mouth.
"I thought," Angel started.
"I can hold it," she yelled as she reached the parking lot.
You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut or bolt. – Cordelia sat as Wesley put together her new desk, because someone who shall remain nameless had broken her old one.
"What's taking you so long?"
"Done," he stated as he started to close the toolbox. "In record time, I might add."
Cordelia snorted. Ha, she could do better. "What's that thingy in your hand?"
Wrinkles add character. – Cordelia listened to the girl drone on and on about how Wesley had saved her from the really big demon.
"And he has such nice eyes. They crinkle around the corners when he smiles."
Cordelia smiled, looking at her reflection in a window. "Oh, God, wrinkles. You'd never say that about a woman."
People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. – Cordelia looked at each man after she had come back from filming the commercial.
"How did it go?" Wesley asked as she plopped down in her chair.
"I had to wear this itty bitty bikini. Thought I was going to fall right out of it."
All three men got this glazed look in their eyes. She had to snap her fingers just to bring them all out of the trance.
"Perverts."
New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet. – Cordelia cursed the third time as she stepped into something gooey as she followed Angel down an alley. Why, oh, why did she decide it would be fun to see what Angel was up to? Her strappy new sandals were toast and the blister that was forming made her wince with pain.
One mood – all the time. – Angel, broody; Wesley, doofus; Gunn, attitude. She didn't have to say more.
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. – Angel looked out of his office, staring holes through Cordelia as she talked on the phone.
"You've been on that thing for over an hour," he yelled.
"Oh, that's just my boss. Ignore him. So where were we?"
You know stuff about tanks. – Or other kinds of weapons. Wesley sat with a catalog open on his desk.
"Oh, it that the new catalog?" Angel asked as he walked back to his office. "Let me see."
"I really do believe we would benefit from having one of those," Wesley told him.
Cordelia looked over Angel's shoulder. "What is that?"
The two men both looked at her like she was crazy.
A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase. – Cordelia wheeled her bag into the hotel lobby.
"Can I get some help here?" she called out.
"Oh, are you ready for the trip?" Wesley asked as he came out of Angel's office.
"The rest of my bags are in the car. This is the only one I could handle."
"We're only going for three days. To work, remember."
"Hey. I packed light."
You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. – Cordelia came into the hotel lobby one morning, noticing that someone had already made the coffee. Gunn thanked Wesley, as he entered not ten minutes later.
"Hey, how did you know that I didn't make it?"
Gunn just chuckled. "My taste buds are actually still attached to my tongue."
Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. – Cordelia came into the lobby, loaded down with shopping bags.
"It looks as if you cleaned the stores out today, Cordelia," Wesley said as he walked to her.
"Nah. Just the shoe stores."
Wesley's eyes widened at the thought.
The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades. – Cordelia looked down at Angel's hair, scissors poised above his head.
"When's the last time you changed your hairstyle?" she asked.
"Uh, 1991 I think."
The scissors didn't make it to his hair because Angel bolted before she could touch him.
"She came at me, with scissors," she could hear Angel telling Wesley in another room.
You only have to shave your face and neck. – Wesley entered the lobby, obviously not having shaved the previous two days. Prophecies tended to get him hyper-focused and forgetting everything else.
"You gonna shave?" she asked him as he walked to the coffee pot.
"Oh, I forgot."
"And you wouldn't be saying that if I had forgotten, now would you."
She followed Wesley's eyes as they descended to her legs.
"Jerk."
You can play with toys all your life. – Cordelia watched as Gunn and Wesley battled it out on their game console. She just didn't get it. Angel entered with two games in his hands.
"Woohoo, you got it," Gunn shouted.
"Why me?" she groaned.
You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look. Cordelia looked down at Wesley's legs, which were presently clad in shorts.
"Shorts? For God's sake, get a tan."
Wesley just looked at her, puzzled at her comment.
"Hey, man. You ready?" Gunn asked.
"Don't let the white guy blind you," Cordelia quipped.
Gunn looked at her like he didn't understand her statement.
"Men."
You can "do" your nails with a pocketknife. – Cordelia groaned as she watched Gunn clean his nails after a gruesomely messy battle with some kind of slime demon.
"Couldn't you get infected or something doing that?" she asked.
"What?"
You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 45 minutes. – Or if you're Angel, in ten minutes, which is about how long it took him. Cordelia timed him as he entered and exited the drugstore in record time.
"It better be good," she called to him as he came out with his bags.
If Angel could blush, he would have.
"You are so busted, mister."
No wonder men are happier, Cordelia thought. They never had to deal with all the things that she did. But she wouldn't trade being a female for the entire world. And she wouldn't trade her guys for any others in the entire world. She liked them just the way they were.
"Who decided to leave their damned weapon on my desk?" she screamed.
Wesley came creeping out of Angel's office, retrieved the said weapon and retreated back. The three had come back with tales of killing a really nasty demon. He had bits of something in his hair, and a great big stain right on the front of his shirt.
"I am so glad that I'm a girl," Cordelia said, as she picked up her fashion magazine. Disguised in it was the weapons catalog that Wesley had received the day before.
"What they don't know," she whispered as she looked through it.
FIN
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