Hank was expressing his frustration to me last night while we threw back a John Daly or four. He said he’s constantly paying for the wrongdoings of his dates’ previous lovers. He had a good point.
“Those wounds remain concealed until around dates three or four and then they start oozing.”
“Yep. I’ve detected something festering a few times and, sure enough, ‘nothing’ was ‘something,’ as I suspected.”
“The deepest wounds I’ve found are left by infidelity. The last guy’s indiscretion causes her paranoia, which I have to deal with.”
“I have seen that one–a nasty injury.”
“She begins watching my every move and imagining the worst. If my phone rings, it’s a booty call. If the bartender flirts with me, I’ve banged her. If I don’t answer her text within five minutes, I’m busy doing the horizontal boogie with a skank in a motel room.”
“That shit will drive a man to cheat. Women don’t realize that insecurity is a major turnoff for men as well. If we’re going to be constantly accused and pay the price of the crime, we’ll eventually consider committing the crime to justify the punishment.”
“It’s not always sexual either. If the last guy didn’t pay enough attention to her, she’ll need constant reassuring. If the last guy didn’t want to commit, all men are players. If the last guy neglected her needs, all men are selfish.”
“It’s too bad women have such a hold over us. I have to admit they’re worth the effort.”
“I agree but sometimes I become exhausted and prefer serenity with an occasional FWB.”
“Friend with benefits?”
“No, Fondue with bananas, you ass.”
I have wounds too but I try to use them as reminders for myself, not as punishment for my next girlfriend. I may have found evidence of affairs by snooping around email and text messages in past relationships; it doesn’t give me cause to snoop around the next woman, does it?
There are interesting extremes at play:
- Paranoia – Every little thing he does is tragic.
- Intentional Blindness – Making excuses or taking the blame for his actions.
- Apathy – I’m not about to stress myself over something I can’t control.
The most attractive women are the ones who happily have their shit together and don’t need a man; they want a man. He’s like the latest Coach purse–he looks good on your arm, your friends admire him and your taste, and you’re perfectly fine leaving him home some nights.
Confident women make me hungry. Meek women drain me. I can gauge a woman’s confidence level with one simple question:
- What would you like to do tonight?
If her answer is:
- I don’t care. – Why should I care?
- Whatever you like, dear. – She’s too accommodating and I fear she is testing me.
- You’re the man, you’re supposed to decide. – This relationship is going to require hard labor.
- I have a movie on Netflix I want to watch. You can pick up some cabernet and pizza on the way. – This errand boy best be rewarded for his services.
- I’ll be ready around seven. I’m in the mood for sushi or Thai. – That’s HOT! Spicy level eight for me! She knows what she wants, can express it, and gives me options. I’m … in … love.
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