When my wife and I were still dating, we took a trip to New Orleans. After a day of walking around and eating street food, she had an upset stomach that hit right as we were getting ready to go out for dinner. We ended up skipping dinner and staying in. I found a pharmacy near our hotel, but it was in a sketchy area. She didn’t want me to go out alone at night, but I wanted to get her something to help her stomach. The conversation ended with me saying, ’You’re too sick to physically stop me from going, so I’m just going. I’ll be back.’
I got her the medicine, and within an hour or so, she started feeling better but was still mad at me. Her position was that she couldn’t just walk out there by herself—it wasn’t safe for her, and it wasn’t something she could treat lightly. She wanted me to acknowledge that. I argued, ’What’s the point of having male privilege if you can’t use it to go out at night through a rough neighborhood and get your girlfriend medicine?’
She eventually conceded it was a nice thing to do for her.
