Bandwagons are most famously used to describe people who don’t care about a particular losing team until the team actually starts winning consistently. Bandwagonism is particularly acute when said team actually has a chance of winning a championship.
Folks start buying the jerseys, tee shirts, hats, and they pay exorbitant fees to step foot in a stadium they never bothered to before the championship game.
The I Don’t Need A Man Wagon actually works the opposite way. It attracts losers. Not in the sense that you are hopeless and wack, but those who have literally lost in love.
Bitter, angry women hop on, and even take turns driving the thing. And boy are they enthusiastic about how love sucks and is one big joke and that all men are the same and they are better off alone. They buy the shirts, the hats, and they spread the word far and wide that love is a lie and that no one can possibly have a healthy relationship because they didn’t.
Every man is going to lie and cheat and be shiftless, or lack ambition, or not want to grow up. Chicks with the unlimited pass on the I Don’t Need A Man Wagon believe that it’s better to be angry and give up on men completely and paint them all with the same brush, because the next man is bound to screw it up too.
I don’t hate on the I Don’t Need A Man Wagon. I just hate on folks who never leave it.
In the case of a sports team on a winning streak, bandwagon fans help fuel the economy. Local restaurants are making money hand over fist, street corner bootleggers are getting paid for their wares, even the homeless are getting a few extra bucks outside the stadium. Everyone wins. Bandwagons bring people together for a common cause and generate a larger excitement.
The I Don’t Need A Man Wagon spawns blogs, books, kickboxing classes and single gal vacation packages. The I Don’t Need A Man Wagon pays for new hair cuts, freakum dresses, penis cakes, MAC makeup binges, and endless boxes of girl scout cookies, birthday cake ice cream, SPANX and all sorts of alcohol. The I Don’t Need A Man Wagon could probably form a serious PAC if they wanted to.
So the I Don’t Need A Man Wagon is necessary. It’s a traveling triage unit for broken and bruised female egos. Like sports bandwagons, the IDNAM wagon is fueled by emotion and the desired outcome of winning is always left to chance, so therefore it’s very unstable.
The key is to knowing how and when to get off and move on, which is what bandwagon riders do best anyway.
While on the ride, we all know when even the potential hint of love comes around again, we are going to yank that “this is my stop” rope and leave the rest of those whining, pitiful hags on the wagon with the quickness.