Does Your Man Think Your Girlfriend is Hot? Steak vs Hamburger by Kristen Houghton My husband thinks that Salma Hayek and Kate Winslet are hot. That’s okay with me. They are hot, I admit it. It doesn’t bother me because I know the chance of him actually meeting Ms. Hayek or Ms. Winslet is pretty much the same as my bumping into my favorite dream-team, George Clooney and Brad Pitt. Finding an actor hot and sexy is dreamland. Nobody really takes it seriously. Naughty thoughts about faraway celebrities, however, are one thing. It’s sort of acceptable. But what happens if your man finds your best friend hot? I remember when my husband Alan first met my best friend Michele. I had wanted him to meet her for a long time. She and I had been introduced at a seminar where we both were speakers. I was doing mine on relationships and she was talking about formal events fund-raising. We became best friends almost immediately, complimenting each other well with our zany sense of humor, our similar tastes, a passion for Pilates, and the belief that there was nothing we couldn’t accomplish. Another plus was that we were both in committed relationships. I was married and she was engaged. We talked about going out together with “our men.” Her wedding was in six months and we wanted my husband and her fiancé to meet before her upcoming wedding. Since she coordinates charity galas for a living, she had invited us to come, as her guests, to an evening event. When we walked in, there was Michele in a white strapless dress that fluttered to her knees and sexy high heeled silver sandals. With her long wavy chestnut hair covering her shoulders, she was a vision of glamour. “That’s Michele,” I said excitedly, showing off my best friend as if I were a kid in first grade, “over there; she’s the one I told you about. She’s funny, she’s talented…....” “She’s hot,” said my husband appreciatively. And it was true, she was. Suddenly I felt two conflicting emotions. One: pride; my best friend looks gorgeous and my husband likes her. Terrific. Two: jealousy; my best friend looks gorgeous, and omigod, my husband likes her! Not so terrific. It was weird. As I made introductions I also made unflattering comparisons between her and me. She looked polished, sophisticated and coolly sexy. I looked… okay. She had on a dress that made her tan look great and showed off her curves; I had on a color that made me look paler than I am and was a little too tight over my own curves. Her hair was perfectly coiffed with soft curls; mine was pulled straight back in a tight chignon. Michele was warm and gracious as always when I introduced her to Alan, who I thought held her hand a bit longer than necessary when they shook hands. She in turn introduced us to the people at our table, including her fiancé, Stan. “You look terrific,” I say quietly as we repair to the ladies room before the event begins. “So do you. Blue is a great color for you.” She says this as she touches up her already perfectly colored lips. Hmmm. As the night goes on, Michele gives a wonderful presentation, makes sure everyone has what they need or want, and basically floats around the room like a beautiful butterfly. When a woman at our table comments that Michelle is a wonderful speaker, I tell her that she used to be a teacher. “Boy, I never had a teacher who looked like that!” whispers my husband. Later that night, I lay in a steaming tub of water with a cold face cloth on my forehead, refusing my husband’s offer to massage my tensed, aching shoulders. I was fuming. It wasn’t that I didn’t think Michelle was pretty and vivacious; I did. In fact if Alan had put it that way, “honey, Michele is pretty and vivacious!” I would not be feeling so hurt. It was the word “hot” that hurt. Last week he had said that I looked hot in a new pair of jeans. To my way of thinking, that should be a word reserved for me. But was I making too much of the word “hot?” Remembering the look on his face, I decided that I wasn’t. Over the next couple of days I did things that were out of sync for me. I was very cool to my husband and I let my voice mail pick up Michele’s phone calls. I felt mean, I acted mean, and I was mean. I’m not good with anger and frustration so when Alan asked me for the umpteenth time what was wrong, I told him flat out and in detail. The “hot” remark, the “never had a teacher like her” remark, the look, the lingering hand shake, all of it. I sounded petty as hell. “You’re kidding, right?” says my husband. I assure him that I’m not and tell him how hurt I feel. “You made me feel unattractive,” I assert. He seems flabbergasted and thinks about it awhile. Deep inside I know he didn’t mean to hurt me but he did all the same. Finally he leads me to the couch to seat down and talk. Of course he thinks I’m making way too much of it all. Maybe I am but when he leans in to kiss me, I pull back. Sighing, he tells me I’m “making a big deal out of one little word.” I tell a male colleague about what my husband said and ask his opinion. He replies that it’s the old hamburger vs steak answer. I ask what he means. “You know it. It’s attributed to the actor Paul Newman. A reporter had asked him if he had ever hought of cheating on his Academy award winning wife, Joanne Woodward. Paul had replied, ‘Why should I go out for hamburger when I have steak at home?’ I tell him I don’t get what that answer has to do with my problem. What's the connection? “Listen, all men would rather have steak than hamburger any time. But…sometimes a hamburger can look awfully good, you know? Doesn’t mean a man is going to choose hamburger over steak; it just means that he can appreciate a good burger too.” In a weird way I understand what he means. Hamburger and steak are both hot. You may want steak but you can look at a hamburger. Even though I feel really strange comparing myself to meat, I can see his point. Getting over my pique I am nice to my husband again. I tell him about my conversation at work. In a show of support for male logic, he agrees with the hamburger/steak analogy and assures me I am “steak.” And the next time Michele calls me, we talk for over an hour about all the little distressing details of her upcoming wedding. I tell her everything will work out fine and not to get herself all crazy over it. Before she rings off, she asks if I want to hear something cute. “Guess what? My loving fiancé Stan told me he thinks you’re hot!” “What did you say?” I ask a bit nervously. “I told him,” she says laughing, “that he has good taste! What did you think I'd say?” Home Page Meet Kristen Book Information Articles Media and Links Calendar Publicity Photos Contact Info Content copyright© 2008 by Kristen Houghton. All rights reserved. This material was written by Kristen Houghton and may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed, wholly or in any part, without the express written permission of Kristen Houghton Copyright additionally covers all material written by the author under the name CK Houghton |
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