Why “Baby It’s Cold Outside” Makes Me Miss the Gentlemanly Date Rapists of Yore

As I put on a record and played the holiday classic, “Baby It’s Cold Outside,” I was instantly swept away by memories of a warmer, simpler time. A time when men would offer to hold my hands, fix me a drink, and show that they really cared about me before they date raped me. Now, when I ask my gentleman caller, “Say, what’s in this drink?” he just says, “Rohypnol.” Men these days!


The men I remember used to open doors for me, pay for my dinner, and wouldn’t be afraid to sing me a tune before date raping me. Nowadays, it’s hard to find a man who’ll have some light conversation before holding me hostage and quietly coaxing me to his bedroom against my will. Yep, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to.


Remember the days when “no” meant “yes,” but in a way that filled everyone with glee at the holiday party? Men used to throw a little humor, charm, and flirtation into their coercion. Nowadays it doesn’t even seem like they care what the neighbors think; they just enact a smear campaign to make sure nobody believes me. I miss the days when they used to just wink and say, “Gosh, your lips look delicious.” At the very least it was flattering.



Nowadays I can’t even get cab fare when I’m drugged and thrown in the back of a car with a stranger. Times sure have changed!


Some days I sit by the fire and reminisce about the days of yore, the good old days when I’d walk out the door in a dress and know I was “asking for it.” Now I walk out the door in sweatpants and know I am “asking for it.” Back then, people never even wore sweatpants outside of the house!


But most of all, I miss the days when men were men. I miss when they took it upon themselves to know their responsibilities, like settling for an unhappy marriage when I got knocked up, or being my lookout when I got a back-alley abortion. My, things sure are different now.


Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to sing a duet with a man before being forced to have sex with him. Then at least when I try to erase and blur the memory from my mind, I have some positive details to add to the fictional narrative I’ve created.