It was the kind of story that reveals just how little men and women understand each other, despite the strides we think we’ve made toward compatibility in the last decade.

The article told of two men in New York who make some extra cash by renting themselves as husbands to women who need a man around the house. One of the men is a divorced recreation director. The other is single and sells potato chips.

Nothing salacious to report here, in case you’re wondering. The men said they might be willing to rent themselves as escorts for an evening, but the charade ends when the dinner check arrives. No flowers, no tender words, no dalliances by the fireplace. They are surrogate husbands, after all, not boy toys.

The unadorned purpose of the business is to provide women with men to do those traditional chores of husbandhood. The jobs include lawn work, painting the house, cleaning out gutters and attics and garages, that sort of thing.

The men charge up to $12.50 an hour, depending on the chore. So far, their clients have been single or divorced women, widows, and the elderly. The men don’t get calls from married women, which comes as no surprise. Most married women would instantly sense a deception and become wary. How could a married woman trust a man who calls himself a husband and actually does household chores without grumbling?

I think I know husbands pretty well. If there’s one thing that sets the average husband apart from other people it is his reluctance to tackle mundane jobs around the house. Not that every husband tries to avoid chores by sitting in front of the TV all weekend, watching football and drinking beer. Some of them play golf, too, or go fishing.

Regardless of the modus operandi, no self-respecting husband would agree instantly to a wife’s request to fix the leaky toilet, lest she lose respect for him. Remember that many husbands model themselves after Dagwood Bumstead, the patron saint of work-avoidance. Wives know this. They expect husbands to react to their requests by getting huffy, followed by whining and moping and foot-stamping.

If business is slow for the two New Yorkers, maybe it’s because their all-smiles approach to husbandly chores appears phony. Why should husbands-for-hire act any different from the real ones?

So to anyone who might want to start this kind of business, and tap into the sizable and lucrative married-woman market, I offer a customer-relations scenario based on truth in advertising:

First, don’t answer the phone too quickly when a customer calls. Let it ring just long enough for the woman on the other end to wonder where you’ve run off to. Before you pick it up, make sure a crucial football game is blaring on the TV in the background. Don’t use a standard business greeting such as “Good morning. Can we help you?” Try this instead, with a whining edge to your voice:

(Husband for Hire:) “Aw, geez! What now?”

(Customer:) Yes, hello. I’d like you to clean the leaves from the gutters.

“And I suppose it has to be done right now? At this very minute?”

Well, I was hoping…

“I mean, leaves have been gathering in the gutters for weeks, right? And you just happen to need them cleaned out now, just when the Giants are six points down and in scoring position?”

I really wasn’t thinking about the football game…

“No, of course not. But why should I be entitled to a little rest or anything ridiculous like that after breaking my back selling potato chips all week? God forbid I should put up my feet for five minutes.”

All right, already. I just thought…

“No, no. I’d just love to go to the garage and haul out the extension ladder that always sticks when I try to open it, the one that could get me fried if I hit a power line. Hey, no problem. I live for leaves.”

Look, if you’re going to make such a fuss…

“So I miss the most important game of the season. Who cares, right? It’s not like I can never watch another one. Maybe next time you’ll want me to snake out the toilet during the Super Bowl, right?”

OK, forget I asked…

“Yeah, sure. And then what? I have to listen to you complain about how I’m lazy and don’t care if the house falls down? No way. How’s three-thirty sound?”

So you’ll do it?

“Hey, what’s a husband for?”