Apparently, I need a man.

It is 2026. Women run companies, buy houses, manage money, raise families, serve as elected officials, and negotiate multimillion-dollar deals.

But try arguing or negotiating with an insurance company, car dealership, mechanic or contractor and suddenly we are back in 1957.

I can present photographs, receipts, estimates, emails, logic and enough documentation to prosecute a small country.

Nothing.

I can explain that their offer is ridiculous and the work inferior.

Now I am emotional.

Then my husband gets on the phone.

He says essentially the same thing I just said, occasionally with fewer facts and considerably less preparation.

“Absolutely, sir. Let me see what we can do.”

Oh, now we can see what we can do.

There remains this charming little assumption that a woman might be confused, overwhelmed, emotional or sufficiently exhausted to simply accept whatever nonsense is being offered.

Maybe she will go away.

Maybe she will cry.

Maybe she will need a lie-down.

Or maybe she will call her lawyer because nothing transforms, “Unfortunately, that’s our policy” into “Let me speak with my supervisor” faster than the word attorney.

So yes, sometimes I still deploy The Man.

Husband. Father. Lawyer.

Not because I need one.

Because apparently you do.

We have come a long way, baby.

Just remember to bring a man.