Several years ago, I met a great guy on an airplane. We hit it off right away and talked for the entire eight-hour flight. We shared a cab from the airport and exchanged phone numbers. Two days later, he called me for a date.

At 5:30 in the morning.

"Are you up yet, Susie?" he shouted into my answering machine. "Are you awake? Why aren't you talking to me, Susie?"

Needless to say, this totally creeped me out. Of course, I refused to call him back. Don't encourage him, I told myself.

But two days later, he called again -- this time at 5:15. And at 5:40. And again at 6:07. "Susie, why aren't you listening ot me? Susie, I need you to be there, goddamn it!" he shouted.

After I unplugged my phone in a panic and arranged to get an unlisted number, I lived in a state of anxiety for a week: After all, the guy knew where I lived.

But eventually my fear grew into fury. Why should I be the one losing sleep? I thought. Why should I be staying at a friend's house and peering over my shoulder whenever I picked up my mail?

And so I called him back and confronted him.

At 4:30 in the morning.

"Are you up yet?" I screamed. "How dare you call me at five a.m.? Don't you have any goddamn manners? No one is to treat me that way, do you understand? What the hell is your problem?"

Oh, I went on the warpath. For twenty minutes, I ranted and raved. I was the Medea of MCI; I made Joan Crawford look like Mommie Teresa. I was vicious; I was hysterical. I was a lunatic.

And lemme tell you, Girls, I was the bomb. Because I scared the living shit out of him.

"Please calm down," he begged. "Please don't freak out."

Poor guy. Whatever psychodrama he'd been dreaming up, it certainly hadn't occured to him that I might want to audition for the psycho role.

Of course, I never heard from him again -- despite the fact that Bell Atlantic sure took its sweet time changing my number.

For all their bravado, almost nothing terrifies guys more than being yelled at by a hysterical woman. They'll do almost anything to avoid having us go ballistic. As soon as they even see us starting to steam, they back off like maniacs: "Okay, just calm down. Calm down, Lady. Don't get all bent out of shape here."

In their minds, really, we're all just a few steps away from turning into that bunny-cooker in Fatal Attraction.

~ from Kiss My Tiara: How to Rule the World as a SmartMouth Goddess by Susan Jane Gilman.

this is one of the funniest and coolest books i have ever read. it's in the top three. i think i'm going to buy like fifty copies and just hand them out to all my girls for birthdays/christmas/whatever. this author is my hero. excuse me, heroine.

if you don't want to wait for me to give it to you for your birthday or christmas, then BUY IT NOW, DAMMIT.