You’re out shopping with your wife (stroke girlfriend stroke s.o.) - bear with me, I’m writing from a male perspective, here - and she’s going into the fitting room to try some clothes on. You know you’re going to be called on to offer an opinion, so what are you going to do?
You have to be close enough to see and converse when she comes out, but you can’t go too close or you look like a weirdo guy hanging around outside the ladies’ changing room - not so bad if your companion is the only one in there, but much worse if someone else comes in and sees you hanging around. There’s the changing room attendant always there; maybe she’ll chat to you and have a bit of banter, maybe she’ll ignore you, maybe she’ll look at you like you’re that weird guy. It’s even worse if it’s the underwear store.
And then when your better half comes out you’ll have the questions to answer, and the attendant will be listening carefully to that, too.
It’s like womanhood is assessing your ability to function as a responsible and civilized member of society.
Do you think I passed?