Should you divorce a metrosexual?

HOW TO DIVORCE A METROSEXUAL Are you married to a metrosexual? Do you want to divorce him because he is a metrosexual? And if so, just how does a woman divorce a metrosexual, anyways? Quickly, I say. Quickly. That is how you divorce a metrosexual. Only kidding….
What is a metrosexual, anyway? The type of guy who gets manicures and who primps and gets his hair done and who, sort of, dresses really well but is still very masculine and still very much into women? Is that what it is? Or is it a situation where you are either homosexual, heterosexual or metrosexual? I never understood. I find the term very ambiguous and I hate ambiguity. Some women don’t care. I care. I hate ambiguity. Especially in men. I want the straight story. This or that. Here or there. Not too pretty and not too well groomed. I don’t think I want to be married to a “metrosexual.” I’m just not cool enough.
But, at the same time, what is more attractive than a man in a well tailored suit, perfectly polished shoes, cuff-links, silk tie, briefcase, etc. And who wants dirty finger nails on their man? Is this a metrosexual? Cause I like a man to be well-groomed. I think it is very masculine, actually. And I like a very masculine, very manly type of guy. 
But when does it cross the line? This grooming of men? And when is it grounds for a divorce? Hah! I guess it depends on the individual woman and her tolerance level. I know I get nervous when a man is too much into how he looks and his appearance.  But at the same time, I am completely repulsed by neanderthals who just don’t care and hoodlums who expose their jockeys on the streets. I would divorce all three of these: neanderthals, hoodlums and metrosexuals. And how? Very quickly. Very swiftly.
I just want peace. I want to go to my dotage peacefully. I don’t want to worry. I don’t want to wonder. I don’t want to be suspicious. I don’t want to be unsure. Metrosexuals make me unsure. I think it’s the nails. I think I draw the line at the nails. No going to get your nails done, darling (clean your own damn finger nails). I mean, honestly. See, this for me is where the line gets crossed. At the nails. And if he also wears an earring (however tiny) coupled with the going to get the nails done/metrosexualthingygoingon and a girly handbag? It’s over! Divorce!
Sure it could just be a passing midlife crisis. But.
Originally published May 1, 2009
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