Just had a telecanvasser:
Her: Can I speak to the Man of the House?
Me: There isn't one. Are you a telecanvasser?
Her: Am I speaking to Mrs Elsewhere?
Me: No, you're speaking to Ms Elsewhere and this has been a fairly sexist telecanvassing session so far.
Her: What? This is not sexist.
Me: Yes, it is. [Slams down phone]
Phone ring again. Pulls connection out of wall.
Thinks: She's probably calling from Singapore...descending into my own generalisations here.
Thinks again: What kind of a sad, mad, unreconstituted relic am I? Have I been too long in Alice?
Of course, there is always Otty, who thinks he's the Man of the House, but he's too shy to talk on the phone.
P.S. FXH: I have the perfect ending: The grrls meet on quad-bikes NE of the WA border near Watarrka. One of them is running a protest campaign against the needless slaughter of innocent camels in the outback. The other is leading a search party for the Harold Holt of the wilderness.