The pot of marmalade--in a gender jam

Gisela had moved into her new apartment in Altona, proud of her independance and new life style in the 1970's bloom of feminism. As a guest I showed up to help with making breakfast, but she insisted on doing it herself. All went well until she tried to open a new pot of marmelade. Hot water, tapping the lid, nothing seemed to work to unscrew the lid. As I walked over to say, "Here, let me try," she held the pot of jam over the kitchen trash basket and let it drop with the words, "Better to throw it away than ask a man to help!"