Dissecting Impressions

No not with the limited reach of the cognitive capabilities of the human mind, I would recommend a good serving of the famed Holmes-Watson duos’ deductive might, oodles of Supermanly determination and a pinch of joblessness to taste as the main ingredients needed to make a meal out of understanding the enigma called a ‘female mind’. Some people live their lives in the quest for answers to their numerous questions, while few others engage their lives trying to find the questions to the answers nature has already presented them with. The slugabed that I am would obviously park me in the latter zone and which is why I have taken this bold step into uncharted territory.
Biology is a subject I personally enjoyed a lot in high school thanks to the lavish scope for conning tongue twisters it presented me. But then that was school and 11th grade was a totally different ball game altogether. The advent of the science of Dissection made sure that only the passionate and patient ones remained. The rapid thinning of the boys interested in the subject was hence no surprise.
Mastery of this science calls for absolute precision, meticulous observational powers, attention to minute details, patience to fend off the fiends of distraction for long hours and of course a good pair of motor limbs. Save an occasional shriek you come across when a dead frog jumps into life, our friends from the other gender have what it takes to go the dissective distance.
Not surprisingly our womenfolk have gone on to manifest their dissective skill set in areas outside the jurisdiction of Biology stretching far into the mundane trivialities of life!
To help you see the picture I’m trying to paint, allow me to darken the hues a little more.
Remorse and ignorance are invariably two major feelings a guy would encounter when he commits the sin of raising subjects like ‘first impression’ as a part of casual talk. This talk ain’t any clumsy just-for-the-sake-of-it conversation subject, not when ‘tis posed to a woman. As the list of the details of that darned first meeting are unraveled the poor guy realizes how futile his 20-odd year’s sentence with him was when compared to the 30-odd minutes this lady needed to fold him inside out. It then appears as though all the cosmic forces of nature have taken time off to join the lady in dissecting the guy and his ‘first impression’; they cleave, rip and make such surgical incisions of his character that are simply unimaginable.
Now all of a sudden those long uneasy silences, those distant glances at the restaurant ceiling and those furtive glances to check if she’s looking don’t seem all that unimportant! Torn to mono-syllable acknowledgement of his ‘first impression’, his sin dawns on him and remorse engulfs him!
An impression might mean the taste that lingers in your palate for us lesser mortals, but for the species called females, it’s more than that, it goes to even the flavors used. Its dissection on special order! Guess some of my answers and many of your questions have been put to rest thru’ this discourse!