Love, Lucy-Style

Lucy: Hey Ethel, guess what Ricky got me?

Ethel: Um…let’s see. A hat? A new dress?

Lucy: Oh, Ethel, better! Think about what every woman wants from her husband.

Ethel: A divorce?

Challenge me on this one if you choose, but it’s my belief that over half a century since Lucy and Ricky made an art of marital sparring, relationships between men and women haven’t changed all that much. Never mind that most households are now double-income, or the fact that wives are no longer expected to honor and “obey” their husbands to the same degree. Behind closed doors – or, screw that, oftentimes in public – men are men and women are women and very intelligent people who have made it their lives’ work to study this kind of thing have all kinds of statistics to back me up. (Also, pretty much every woman I’ve ever known agrees with me.)

In other words, we still feel the need to go to great lengths to keep our men interested, to keep the flame burning (oh no? So that last bikini wax was for your own benefit? Please.). Lucy got jealous when a new dancing girl at the Tropicana gave Ricky the eye, but do we not feel the same sense of steaming suspicion when some attractive female Facebook “friend” posts a possibly flirty message on our boyfriend’s wall?

When we modern girls feel taken for granted or doubtful of our partner’s undying affection, our options are limited. We can “talk” to him about our needs and how they’re not being met, carefully phrasing each sentence: “When you do or don’t (fill in the blank), it makes me feel (fill in the blank).” Has this method worked as well for you as it has for me? (Which is to say, not at all?) We can vent to a girlfriend. We can bury our emotions and then blow up over “nothing,” screaming about a dirty dish left on the table or the toilet seat left up. Or, we can ask ourselves…What Would Lucy Do?

Lucy would don a brunette wig, off-the-shoulder blouse and hoop earrings and pretend to be a sultry stranger to test Ricky’s wandering eye. In Episode 93, “The Black Wig,” Lucy does just that, inspired by the chic Italian haircut of a sexy screen goddess. “I flirted with him a little and what do you think he had the nerve to do? He flirted back!” she tells Ethel bitterly. “He called me ‘honey’ in a tone I haven’t heard since before we were married!” Ethel is sure Ricky knew it was Lucy all along (which he did, thanks to a tip-off from the owner of the beauty parlor where Lucy got her wig), but is still intrigued enough by the scenario to agree to go along with the next phase of Lucy’s scheme and similarly disguise herself for a double “date” with Fred and Ricky. Unfortunately, Ethel gets stuck with a cobbled-together costume made up of a geisha girl’s wig, a fringed Native American dress and Eskimo’s fur coat (“You look like an ad for a trip around the world,” says Lucy).

I’ve never actually disguised myself to test a man’s fidelity, but that’s only because high-quality wigs are prohibitively expensive. I do, however, share Lucy’s jealous streak. Also like Lucy, I loathe to be ignored. In Episode 98, “Lucy Cries Wolf,” Ricky’s distant behavior at the breakfast table is the catalyst for the day’s shenanigans. Hiding behind his newspaper, Ricky doesn’t respond when Lucy asks him, repeatedly, whether he’d like more coffee. Lucy refills his cup anyway, causing Ricky to yell after his next surprisingly scalding sip.

“I’m sorry I burned you, but it’s no fun sitting here watch you read the newspaper,” Lucy says. For a moment, it looks like Ricky is going to put his paper away, but he hands her a section to read instead. Disgruntled, Luc y happens upon an article about a woman who was brutally burglarized after her husband ignored her calls for help. “That man didn’t love his wife very much,” Lucy concludes before asking if Ricky would “come home the minute I called” to say she was being robbed.

“What for, we’re insured,” says Ricky, but soon pacifies Lucy by promising that he would “fly from the ends of the earth” if he sensed she were in the slightest danger.

Lucy is comforted, but skeptical. So later that day, she calls Ricky at the club about a “horrible, strange-looking man” on the fire escape. “He’s seven feet tall! You better come home, hurry, hurry!”

Moments later, a frantic Ethel and Fred burst into the Ricardo’s apartment. “Ricky called us from the club! Are you all right?”

Lucy is disappointed. “How do you like that? Here I am in terrible danger and he just sits by the phone. I could have been murdered while he was waiting for a call back.”

“You still might be,” says Fred. “My blood pressure has better things to do than play He loves me, He loves me not.”

I will admit that I have modified and used this tactic to my advantage once or twice. Frustrated after a long night of waiting for my then-boyfriend to return my calls (as was usually the case in that relationship), I burst into tears when, around midnight, he finally got back to me.

“I’ve been calling you all night because I thought I heard someone trying to break in my front door,” I said between sobs. “And I kept hearing these weird noises outside…”

Looking back, I don’t know why this guy’s response wasn't: “So why didn’t you call the cops?” Instead, his voice got very soft and he apologized for not calling back earlier. “I’m so sorry, you must have been so scared,” he said. “I’ll always call you back right away from now on.”

My plan backfired slightly over the coming months, when the boyfriend grew increasingly paranoid about me going anywhere by myself at night (he was a possessive sort, anyway) and insisted on buying a gun for me to keep in the house. But in that first moment, boy! Lucy's ruse worked like a charm.

Ever try a similar strategy? C'mon, confess...