Are you a Bad Boy Girl or a Nice Guy Woman? – Part Deux

niceguyAll right, all right, all right. Perhaps that test contained what some would call “leading questions.”

“Is it not true, Mr. Torcivia, that on the night of October 19th, you hired male strippers to perform at your venue?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, it’s true?”

“Yes, your statement is true.”

“So, you admit to hiring male strippers.”

“I do not.”

“But, you said yes to my initial question.”

“Yes, I did.”

“I’m confused.”

“Yes, you are.”

The previous exchange was an example of leading questions that was more real-world and less irreverent.

So, to redeem myself from the previous test, allow me to provide five scenarios with the same rating system. Here, the scoring will be interpreted differently.

Scenario #1:

Nice Guy Andrew pulls in front of your condo, gently taps on your front door at precisely five minutes past his scheduled arrival, smiles, and presents you with a fresh bouquet of tulips. He hands a treat to your pooch, offers his arm, and guides you to his car. He opens the door, and assists you into the passenger seat. After he closes your door, a teenager skateboards past, and spits in his face. Andrew gets in the car, asks you for a tissue, wipes his face, and says, “Kids these days. Oh, what a kidder.”

Scenario #2:

While making love, Nice Guy Brian says, “You’re so amazingly beautiful, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to have this honor. Keep your lovely eyes open as I sink emotionally and physically deeper into you.”

Scenario #3:

You’re watching Thursday Night Football, and Nice Guy Carl’s favorite quarterback, Peyton Manning, has his arm hooked as he throws an interception, costing the Broncos the game. Carl begins sobbing, and blows his nose loudly, and exclaims, “Why? Oh, dear Lord, why?”

Scenario #4:

While enjoying couples’ night out, your ex-husband makes an impromptu appearance. He’s intoxicated. He approaches you and your date, Nice Guy Daniel. The ex introduces himself, shakes Daniel’s hand, and says, “I apologize for stretching her vagina out, pal.” Daniel smiles, and responds, “Thanks for the warning, friend. Haven’t been there yet, but after I down three more of these Cosmos, she might get lucky.”

Scenario #5:

You’re at a local pub with Nice Guy Evan. The server has been flirting with him the entire night. You suspect something is up. You take a potty break, and discuss the situation with someone in an adjacent stall. When you return, you notice the skanky slut-bag server handing him a card. Before you have a chance to mention it, Evan shows you her card, and says, “Baby, isn’t this woman a hoot? She just gave me the bartender, Jonathan’s, phone number. The silly goose said she thought I was gay because of my nicely coiffed hair and scarf. Gosh, I haven’t had a homosexual relationship since I don’t know when.”

Time to tally the scores again. This time, a score under ten means you were probably raised fatherless, and your hero is Rachel Maddow. Ten to twenty means you enjoy having a man take care of most household chores, and having your toes licked. A score of twenty to thirty means you need to rewrite your Match.com profile so you don’t attract so many pansies–remove the parts about long walks on the beach, and salsa lessons. A score over forty (Is it just me, or are you always tempted to write 40 as “fourty?” Fuck, I’m an imbecile.) means you meet most of your dates at MMA fights, and need your ass spanked and hair pulled … hard.

Are you a Bad Boy Girl or a Nice Guy Woman?

hcdbThe average female claims to be disgusted by bad boys, and dreams of settling down with a nice guy. She either doesn’t know what she wants, or she’s fighting her urges. Of course, my impression offends certain women–the ones in denial. Look, it’s fine. Bad boys need love too, and they act that way precisely because hot women seem drawn to their antics. *sigh* Don’t assume that bad boys are stupid, and nice guys are smart. Untrue. Bad boys are street smart, as evidenced by them having a bevy of buxom beauties willing to take hot loads to the face. (Offended yet?) What we need is a test to determine what sort of woman you are–the kind, yet self-assured type who would never allow herself to be demeaned, or the slap-my-ass-and-pee-on-me-if-you-like type. (Got ya, didn’t I?)

Answer the following questions about each scenario with a number from one to four as follows:

  1. This gets me wetter than a sea sponge during monsoon season.
  2. There’s definitely some v-juice in me drawers (said with a British accent, please).
  3. Yes, I’m a bit misty, but certainly insufficiently prepared for penetration.
  4. Dry as a pile of salt on the Sahara.

Scenario #1:

Bad Boy Alex is driving you in his BMW with the top down, even though it’s freezing out, to Carl’s Jr. for your date. Nice Guy Nick cuts him off in his Prius. At the next light, Alex puts his car in park, gets out (even though you asked him not to), stands in front of Nice Guy Nick’s Prius and head butts the hood. Then he returns to the car, bleeding slightly from his shaven head.

Scenario #2:

While having sex, Bad Boy Brock says, “You like that, don’t you? You’re a nasty little fuck pig. You don’t even deserve my massive meat. Beg for it like a baby bird.”

Scenario #3:

You’re watching the move, The Descendants with George Clooney. It’s the scene where George says his final goodbye to his dying wife. As you dab your eyes, Bad Boy Chris says, “Jesus Christ, it’s a fucking movie. He should have suffocated her long ago.” Then he farts, and tells you make him a sandwich.

Scenario #4:

At your company Christmas Party, your boss drags you out to the dance floor while your boyfriend, Bad Boy Dean orders shots from the hot babe bartender. (He slides her his number too … but, you don’t know that. The jury shall disregard.) He notices you two dancing. Bad Boy Dean drinks both shots, walks out to the dance floor, taps your boss on the shoulder, asks to cut in, and then slaps your boss on the back of his head, knocking his hairpiece crooked.

Scenario #5:

While at the local pub, you notice your boyfriend, Bad Boy Eric, laughing and flirting with some bimbo (your words, not mine). He returns, doesn’t mention her, and asks, “Where the fuck’s my beer?” When you ask him about the hosebag (the woman, not the beer), he responds, “That’s just a silly cunt I used to bang. She sucks in bed. Baby, I’d so glad I found you, and so is my happy cock.”

OK, tally your scores. Anything under ten, and you need therapy, a cry pillow, and a nice box of wet-naps. Ten to twenty, and there’s some hope for you–perhaps you’ll find love after all, three months at a time. Twenty to thirty and you should start a blog, and consider applying for that management position. Over thirty and you, my love, are destined for long-term happiness, not brought on by prescription drugs.

Alpha Male Training

It’s like training me to pole dance, crack eggs, or kick around a hacky sack–frustrating for both the teacher and the student. Yet, I read and hear women want alpha males, so I persist.

In case you don’t know what an alpha male is, here’s what Wikipedia says:

In social animals, the alpha is the individual in the community with the highest rank. The alpha animals are given preference to be the first to eat and the first to mate; among some species they are the only animals in the pack allowed to mate. Other animals in the community are usually killed or ousted if they violate this rule. The status of the alpha is often achieved by means of superior physical prowess, though it can also be determined by social efforts and building alliances.

Basically, it’s a man who:

  • Knows what he wants and takes it when he pleases.
  • Is confident.
  • Doesn’t care what people think.
  • Takes chances.
  • Demands respect.
  • Is rugged and masculine.
  • Is a dominant leader.
  • Is driven.
  • Keeps himself fit.
  • Dresses fashionably.

Men in show business who play that role would include George Clooney, Charlie Sheen, David Dukovny, and Ashton Kutcher.

The alpha male is not:

  • Depressed.
  • A fan.
  • Overly emotional.
  • Passive.
  • A victim.
  • A team player.
  • Out to please anyone, unless it benefits his cause.
  • Afraid.
  • Lazy.
  • Sad and lonely.

Like most men, I probably fall between the two depending on my company, mood, and if I’m on bourbon number two or three. I become further confused and annoyed when I ask my date which type of man she prefers, and she lies saying she doesn’t want an alpha male. You all do. Admit it: He’s the douche who makes you dewy.

For example, I’m on date number two last night with a lovely specimen who hasn’t done anything to scare me off yet (like burp The Star-Spangled Banner). An alpha male probably would have sealed the deal by the end of that date. I didn’t even kiss her. I went in and she did a reflexive ten-degree turn, which resulted in a corner lip kiss. I suck. I hate myself, which is very un-alpha-ish of me.

The alpha male would have been grabbing her thigh under the table, kissing her earlobe when he hit the john, and told her how badly he wanted to rip her clothes off.

I spoke of polenta.

[Insert that thing we all do when we need to let off steam. I walk in the house after the date, make sure nobody is looking in the windows, and begin punching the air while delivering creative curses, such as “Fuck, shit, piss! I’m such a fucking pussy. Kiss her, numbnuts! Ugh. Fuckity fuck-knuckles.” Then, my cats stare at me and begin calling animal rescue services.]

If I asked her for a kiss that probably would have been the final date. I should have gone in and kissed her. When she turned her face, the alpha male would have grabbed her head, turned it back, and kissed her hard and deep with no apologies. Then, perhaps my night would have concluded with playful fondling instead of a good-bye wave.

Yes, I know: Take control and be the man. It’s not easy when you’re raised to be gentle with the finer sex. I’m a delta (as in “Dummy”) male right now and I need to snap out of it. Training continues.

Incompatibility – Why do good girls like bad boys?

Many things don’t go together well. If you’ve just brushed your teeth and you’re craving orange juice, don’t do it or you’re about to prove my point. So, why must we force together things that are best left apart? Toddlers learn quickly that square pegs don’t fit in round holes, but adults keep forcing it instead of finding a fit.

Take the case of the good girl and the bad boy. They don’t fit except for the twenty minutes or so it takes them to pound pelvises. They say a man wants his woman to be a princess in the street and a ‘ho in the bedroom. Well, it seems a woman wants her man to be a personal assistant in the street and a lizard-tongued, tatted-up scruffball with a huge, numb penis in the bedroom.

Do I sound bitter?

If I hear one more woman tell me how nice I am, I’m shaving my head and buying a Harley. Her statement is a death knell. I realize the woman complimenting me has slotted me securely in the friend-I’ll-never-fuck column and that sucks for me. Meanwhile, she’ll answer dickhead’s text (with silly abbreviations, misspellings, and grammatical errors), she’ll rendezvous with his drunk ass, and believe him when he promises to pull out. Tomorrow, her friend (moi), will get the call begging me to join her for breakfast because she’s having a meltdown along with her eggs and morning after pill.

“What’s shakin’, sugarbacon?”

“I slept with Tony again last night.”

“What? I thought you said you were over him.”

“I am now. I’ll never do it again.”

“You said that too.”

“But, this time I mean it.”

“Heard that before as well.”

“He has this uncanny ability to sense when I’m vulnerable and that’s when he strikes. I can’t fight it.”

“Is his manhood so marvelous?”

“Well … it’s not just that.”

“Do tell.”

“He’s different. He takes control and ravages me. I can tell he’s really into it when we’re together and, sure, he’s a skilled lover. He’s emotional and savage.”

“But, once the sex towel comes out I bet he loses his charm.”

“He has no charm. You have charm.”

“… and, unfortunately, no nookiepuss to go with my manners.”

“Aw, you’ll find a nice girl.”

“No, I won’t. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you nice girls want bad boys. I’ll hold your door, pull out your chair, order a fine bottle of wine, and eventually find text messages you’re sending him about wanting to have sex with him for the last time again.”

“I would never …”

“You just did!”

“But, it’s different. I don’t have a serious boyfriend.”

“I bet if I ask the guy you’re dating, he’ll disagree.”

“I know. Damn it! It was foolish. You’re right. [Insert friend hug.] See? This is why I love you so much. You’re such a good friend who listens and knows how to talk sense into me. What would I do without you?”

*sigh*