A Twist of Heroism

Every woman seeks a hero; a knight in shining armor to sweep them off their feet when they're in distress and carry them away to commit acts of sickeningly sweet romance found only in the backs of Fabio-approved dimestore novels.  I have found this to be a universal truth hidden deep within the heart of every heterosexual female regardless of the number of times they deny it or the ounces of pepper spray they use on you.

The only problem with the heroic approach is that many of us guys don't believe we actually have the ability to defeat any foe that doesn't appear on a video game screen.  We can barely sweep all the cheese curl residue off our sofas, let alone a woman off her feet.

But fear not, because God did not forget you.  He has bestowed upon each of us a special gift that can win us the admiration and, dare I say, love of any female we serve with it.

Yes, men:  we can open jars.  

No matter how weak and scrawny you may be, you have a mystical touch that loosens just about any lid that dare not budge for the fairer sex.  I know because I have lost arm wrestling matches to girls before only to best them when it comes to a stubborn jam jar.  It truly is a blessing.

“But ladies aren't going to become consumed with passion on account of you opening up the olives!” you might be saying, substituting “olives” with your food of choice, if necessary.  Ah, but they can.  It all depends on the context, my friends.  Milk the valor of your gift as much as possible and it can indeed seem legendary, like so:

A great sadness had fallen upon the land.  The dark sorcerer Hermetica had cursed the people's food supply, sealing it away under curses of metal and glass.

“It is impossible!” a maiden cried, having struggled in vain with one cursed vessel.  “Our food is inaccessible.  We shall surely starve!”

She looked about for a good place to swoon, but before doing so her eye caught a glimpse of a figure approaching from the fogs of bleakness and despair.  Could it be?  Was the knight savior of the people now standing before her?

“It is I,” the knight said.  “Sir Timothy, Liberator of Pickles!”

The maiden's heart leapt with joy.  “It is there!” she said, pointing toward the cursed vessel.

“By my duty, milady,” the knight said, and engaged the vessel in hand-to-hand combat.  After a grueling struggle of several seconds, a mighty pop resounded throughout the land.

“When the safety button pops up, you know the curse is broken,” the knight said, handing the disarmed vessel back to its owner.

“My hero!” the maiden beamed.  “How can I ever repay you?”

“It is my honor, fair maiden,” the knight replied.  “I require no atonement.”

“Well I have been reading up on my novels...” she said.

“Maybe a little atonement, then,” the knight smiled, lifting the maiden into his arms and starting for the setting sun.  Several steps later, the knight set the maiden down.

“You know, maybe I'll just pull the horse around.”