Retro Feminists

With career options here - from timber plantations to oil & gas operations - decidedly favouring the men, suburban life in Miri remains very much the blissful ideal of the 1950s with the earnest husband out earning the bacon from 9-to-5 while the cheery stay-at-home wife supervises the mundane chores at home, organizes the groceries and ferries the squabbling rugrats around. Sounds almost quaintly archaic these days but it's all true. In fact all my coworkers have pretty much the same sweet deal.

Not to mention the ongoing affaires. 

Rather than honing whatever intellectual skills or hobbies that they have, the increasingly desperate housewives here prefer whiling their hours away shaping their razor-sharp nails at the exclusive salons - or canoodling with their dance teachers. Otherwise extremely promising activities but over here it seems to be slowly sapping them of their brainpower. 

What little there was of it originally. 

Before the raging feminists take up arms to defend their erstwhile sisters, let me present a usual everyday conversation with one of these marvellously manicured moms. 

Paul : Are you here for the surgery today? 

Lady : I think so. 

Paul : What will they be doing? 

Lady : I don't know. Ask my husband. 

Paul : You don't know what surgery will be done? 

Lady : Not sure. Ask my husband. 

Paul : Do you want to know what surgery you'll be doing?

Lady : No. My husband says it's alright. 

Paul : Do you have any medical problems prior to surgery? Any admissions to the hospital before? 

Lady : Not sure. Ask my husband. 

Paul : Any surgeries done before? 

Lady : Not sure. Ask my husband.

Paul : Any allergies? 

Lady : Not sure. Ask -

Paul : Your husband. Yes, I figured that. 

Imagine my growing exasperation as I tried my best to restrain myself from shaking what remained of her rapidly diminishing brain loose. Fortunately my nurses know me well enough to hold me back when I'm close to throttling tiresome simpletons. 

Obviously she didn't come in for an urgent lobotomy since that antiquated procedure was probably carried out on her wedding night when she voluntarily signed over her freedom. How else to explain the severe lack of intellectual capability? I don't know how anyone with a rational, competent mind could allow someone else - even someone so dear - to have so much power and authority over themselves. What happened to their own autonomy? Leaves these subservient women barely more than negligible chattel forever shackled to the whims of their husbands. 

Let a mere man hold that much authority over myself? It's already the 20th century. 

Does she ever, ever form an opinion of her own outside of the home? 

Wouldn't surprise me if some day not very in the future, her ever-loving husband schedules a made-up surgery with consent conveniently signed just to get rid of his dimwitted spouse for a newer model. 

Yes, that was intentionally mean.