Friday, October 26, 2012

Why so aloof? Sometimes I'm just being me

Yesterday's post let a particular encounter hang so that I could focus on telling one story.  If you need some additional context, go read that post first.  Anyhow . . . let's pick up the hanging thread . . .

This woman was sitting at a table at the bar with about six of her friends.  A couple other chicks were popping in and out on the conversation, too.  I wasn't particularly interested in any of the chicks at the table, although I was monitoring one of their additional friends who was hitting on a guy I kinda knew.  I was waiting for him to fail out, although by the time that actually happened she had left him behind in the parking lot and I ended up giving him ride.  Stupid world.

One of the dangers of going solo out to the bar or the club is that women will notice you by yourself and decide to engage you.  This doesn't sound like a big deal, but I am a believer that women who directly approach guys are almost always trying to jump past the Two-Point Rule.  I also seem to be the object of a lot of old-fashioned dares when women go out in drunken groups.

Whatever the case, one of the women in the group comes over and opens me as I'm sitting by myself.  She's actually not that bad looking.  A little bigger in the butt and chest, but she did have an actual curvy figure -- ya know, as opposed to a "curvy means fat" figure.  She's clearly in her mid-30s.  On balance, she's the kind of chick I might screw if I'm just having a bad night and don't care much.  Most days, she won't get much play.

Still standing, she positions herself with her butt barely rubbing against the inside of my left thigh and starts talking to me.  Usual boring shit.  "Do you like this music?"

She asks me why I'm sitting by myself.  I answer that's just how I am.  I'm fairly disengaged at this point.  Not even making an effort to maintain eye contact -- BTW, this is only a good tactic if you're up against a woman who already is in the bag for you.

She goes through the rotisserie of questions.

"Where your wife?"  Nothing like an informative question and a shit test all rolled in one.  I tell her I'm not married.

"Well, where's your girlfriend?"  Not dating.

"Do you have any kids?"  Nope.  (This is the kind of question that only two 30+ people will ever exchange.)

"How old are you?"  34.

She stops and smiles a bit and laughs.  She says, "I'm 36.  I thought you were a bit older than me."  Nothing wrong with that, I said.

How women treat age difference

I want to pause here and talking a bit about how women approach the problem of the unknowable age difference when they approach a guy.  The age thing can feel a bit like an insult or shit test.  It isn't.  Stop hyperventilating.

When women guess a guy's age, they essentially frame the guess as something that puts the guy in-bounds.  Which usually means taking her own age and adding a couple years.  Two to six years above her age is a fair approximation.

I can recall a 25 year old who approach me a while back.  She tried to ferret out my age by asking if I went to school with someone she knew.  I told her I'm a bit older than that.  It didn't phase her.

Likewise, I can remember a 40 year old framing the question as "people our age".

The only big exception is if she's way younger than you.  I can remember a 20 year old who pushed her guess of my age into the 27 to 29 range.  There she's essentially trying to keep the guess at the edge of acceptable.

Bear in mind, if a woman is directly approaching you, she doesn't give a fuck what your age is, whether you're younger or older than her.

In the case of the 36 year old chick, she remain undeterred.  In fact, I think she was a bit proud of herself for going after a slightly younger guy than her.

She then drops a hint that she'd like me to join her friends.  She says something to the effect of "It's so loud over her.  That's why me and my friends sit further away from the DJ."  I shrug it off.

This broke her frame a bit.  She outright asked me, "Are you sure you don't just want me to leave you alone?"

I could have done without her.  Especially with her yelling so loud because of the music.  But, I'm not one to overtly knock a woman's ego down.  So, I responded, "I'm not telling you to leave."  Nice non-committal answer.

She stopped talking for a bit and kind of stood there dancing.  She was trying to gauge my appetite for physical contact.  I eased my leg into her a bit and let my hand brush her butt.  Figured I throw her bone.  Again, I was neither pro nor con on this woman.

I looked down her top.  At this point I could see her hand drift toward my crotch, but she just barely stopped short of actual groping.  She thought better of such an aggressive move.

She opted to turn the conversation to alcohol.  "You're drinking nothing but beer.  What?  Can you hold your liquor?!"

Ah!  The challenge the guy trick.  I may have underestimated this MILFy gal.  She knows more game than I would have guessed.

I answered, "I only drink light beer these days.  I'm trying to lose weight."

"You look fine to me!" she blurts out.  Again, I shrug it off and conversation dies a bit.  I tell her I need to piss.  She tells me she's going to go over to her friends, but she'll be back.

So, I take my piss and grab another beer and return to my seat.  She gives it a couple minutes before she drifts back over.  Her next statement's a bit gameless: "I thought you had left.  I didn't figure you were coming back."

I say something to the extent of "Why would you think that?"  She pretty much shrugs it off.

She looks over at her friends with the classic "Yeah!  I can't believe I'm doing this either!  But it's working!" face.  They don't look as convinced.  I'm guessing they read the extreme neutrality of my responses.

She says, "I don't come out here very often.  We're out celebrating my birthday."  I nod.

She says, "I'd ask you to do shots with us, but I'm guessing since you're only drinking light beer that's not going to happen."  I tell her she is correct.

When older women try to get you drinking more

In my experience, if an older woman tries to get booze into you, it's because she's basically playing Creepy Old Guy Game.  This isn't that dissimilar from when old child molesters offer young teens alcohol.  It's a sign that she's losing confidence.  With an older woman, it's also a sign that the pussy is entirely yours for the taking.

The only disappointing thing with this is they often repeat the offer.  At this point, it's a major sign of self-doubt.  It's pretty much the female equivalent of just giving up and saying, "So? Wanna fuck?"

She then proceeds to complain about how younger guys are always coming up to her but she just blows them off because they're just looking for the pussy.  (BTW, those are her words, not mine.  She did use the word "pussy".)  I pretty much ignored the remark, since what I really wanted to say was, "And you're here just trying to ride the D."

This was another sign that her frame was breaking down.  When women tout their sexuality -- particularly if they are touting how many guys they can get, it's because they're trying to qualify themselves to you.  Don't ask me why women think this would work -- women are largely qualified to guys by their appearance and to a lesser extent by their joie de vivre.  It's another blinking red light on the dashboard.

At this point, she decides to go with, "Wow, you smell good."

As an aside to the reader: yes, I do smell good.  How?  Burberry.  Seriously, as a guy, Burberry cologne is your can't miss scent.   A flawless eau de toilette.  It's masculine, but subtle.  It smells amazing while being astonishingly subtle.  I'm partial to Burberry Brit.   It mixes well with alcohol and cigarettes, so the bar smell won't fuck it up.

The summer scents are also pretty damned nice, but the Brit scent tend to be more masculine and work better in a bar setting.

I have to admit, by this point I'm losing interest.  I've gone from neutral to "puh-lease".  She's trying too hard and is clearly too invested.  I like tough women that can hold their frame.  A chick who is basically playing "Wanna fuck?" game isn't my type.

She seemed to pick up the hint.  She said, "I need to go over with my friends for a few minutes."

She and her friends converse a bit.  I stopped paying attention pretty quickly.  By the time I bothered to notice, they had all left.  So much for getting that birthday sex you had wanted.  Oh, well.  Better luck next birthday.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

The chick who yelled at me for being aloof

One of the reasons I am the way I am is because I get a bit tepid about the over-the-top behavior women throw my way.  This previous weekend I got called out by three separate women on Friday night.

The first one was a chick who approached my inside the bar and made a very overt and direct play for attention.  I think I'll save her for a later post, because there was a lot of good stuff about game to expound upon from my interaction with her. 

The third one was a hit-and-run outside the bar who basically snarled at me and asked, "What the fuck's wrong with you"

The second one is the interesting one.

Now, upfront, she was Asian.  I don't mean to be racist, but . . . I generally don't find Asian women attractive.  An Asian girl has to be an 8+ with a serious figure to have any hope of getting my attention.  My taste leans toward Irish girls (a redhead has to be pretty hideous for me to not like her), hispanic girls and skinnier black girls.

Asian Girl was maybe closer to a 6.  For my personal tastes, I'd classify her as a 4.5, but I'm aware that most guys rate Asian women much higher than I do. So, take from that what you will.

Asian Girl kind of made eyes at me when I came into the bar.  I noticed her looking but didn't make much of it because she wasn't my type.  At the low-end of the cute scale.  No figure.  Not dressed to kill.  Not having fun.  No personality.  No punk.  No inner strength.  Just nothing that flags a girl for me.

As the night progresses, Asian Girl resorts to one of the time-honored tricks of Girl Game.  She finds a seat at a table directly in front of me and forces herself into my line of sight.  She has herself turned about half toward me.  No drink.  No texting.  Just sitting, half facing toward me.

I ignore her.  Not interested.  She hits the minute-thirty mark and opts to rotate to a spot over by the DJ booth, where she sits on a stool and sits with her back half turned to me.  She sat there adjusting her skirt.  She took her jacket off.  She looked over a couple times.  And she scooted stool to place herself more directly into my view.  No play.

The minute-thirty rule

Wait.  What is the minute-thirty rule? 

I hold to be true the theory that during a woman's indirect approach of guy, she will place herself in proximity to the guy she likes for about a minute and thirty seconds.   This can go up to five minutes, but don't bet on it if you really like her.  Minute-thirty is about the amount of time a woman with high self-esteem can handle being ignored by a guy she likes.  After that, she will have to reposition and recalibrate her approach.

One one occasion,  I had a chick who went for the full five, then danced with her friend and then did another minute-thirty before absolutely exploding.  She grabbed her stuff and yelled at her friend, "Fuck this.  I'm leaving."

Feigned disinterest by women

Her recalibration choice is classic Girl Game, too.  The back half turned move is feigned disinterest.

One thing you have to understand is that a central conceit of womanhood is that all guys are horny to fuck all women.  Maybe a woman will give you enough points and assume you won't fuck a total cow.  But, the vast majority of women believe that all men, given a full, open offer of sex, will not decline sex with a woman who rates out as a 5 or higher.

Understand what feigned disinterest is about.  If a woman rates herself a 5 or higher, she believes that all men with a pulse want to fuck her.  So, if she encounters resistance from a man she rates worthy of screwing a 5 (or even higher), her first instinct is to test whether he's a full-on alpha male or just a cute beta who has a bit of game. 

Feigned disinterest -- especially after she's made her first overt orbit into your space or your line of sight -- is about drawing you out.  Her goal is to see if you're playing at alpha or if you've really got the goods.  If you're playing at it, she knows your sexual interest will get the better of you and you'll approach her.  This comes with the added bonus that women like to feel of a cold approach, even if she had to induce you into it.

Explosive behavior

The problem with feigned disinterest is that it threatens serious cognitive dissonance between how she perceives herself and what is happening. Remember, she begins with the assumption that all men will fuck a 5 or higher.  Her approach indicates she rates herself a 5+. 

This presents a cruel problem to her.  Your failure to approach her has to arise from something.  But, what can it be?

1.  The guy is gay.  

I actually had a chick who was frustrated with hitting on me -- she was doing a full, direct approach outside the bar after the bar had closed. And actually she did pretty well considering she was completely fucked-up drunk.  After not getting any play, she just flat-out asked me, "Are you queer or something?"

Not to my credit, I took the bait and I ended up fucking her an hour later in her SUV in the parking lot.  For all you girls who come here looking for advice on how to hook an aloof guy, maybe you should try this one!  Not a shining moment.  But, to her credit, she got what she wanted.

2.  There is no option two in the female mind.

To be blunt, women refuse to consider the possibility that their rating of themselves is wrong.  They're also very reluctant to believe their rating of you could be wrong.  Women refuse to consider social retardation as a possible explanation -- because that would mean they misread you and ended up hitting on a lower value man.

And this is where the blow-up comes into play.  Women's egos don't handle rejection well at all.  This is where you get "Fuck this. I'm leaving."  That chick couldn't handle being blunted.  So, she blew up and left.

Continuing with the story . . .

Asian Girl didn't get a chance to blow up.  Why?  Remember how this story has three women in it?  Remember the one who directly approached me?

Well, this is where direct approach girl comes in.  She comes in and we are engaged in her best attempt at direct approach for the next hour or so.

By the time I was done with Direct Girl, I had relocated and Asian Girl was nowhere to be seen.  Not that I was looking.  I just don't recall seeing her after that.

Until . . .

I was standing outside the bar after it closed.  I like to get some fresh air in me and sober up before I drive.  Funny thing.  I'm not a big fan of being arrested or dead.

A few minutes after I went outside, Asian Girl comes out with a white guy.  They seem to be friends, although I don't recall seeing them together inside.  He's exuding betaness and friendzoning. 

I don't think much of it until she decides to stand next to me.  I ignore her until a half minute later she rather loudly says something to the effect of "I was watching you all night and you did was sit by yourself.  What the fuck's wrong with you?"

I look over at her and say something like, "That's just how I am."  I thought I played this off pretty well, considering, again, I have zero interest in her.

She gets an "oh, shit" look on her face and meekly moves to the other side of her beta male friend.  She then says, "You look like you're gonna hit me."  I ask her what makes her think that.  She says, "The way you looked at me."  I said, "No, I'm not going to hit a drunk girl at 2am."  She responds, "That's OK.  I can hold my own."

This brings us to yet another Girl Game trick . . .

Provoke him in the hope of getting attention

Girls that have real game know how to agitate a guy into responding.  Recall the chick who threw the "Are you gay?" question at me.  The idea here is to deliberately offend the guy and force him to respond. 

What Asian Girl was doing was stepping outside the social norm.  She questioned an alpha male.  She then implied he was going to break frame and commit an act of violence.  And then when the alpha male says no, she essentially offers up that she would be willing to fight.

The idea here is to use the social need to not appear to be a threat to leverage the guy into a response.  Essentially, it's a "must respond" scenario.  And I did respond.  Once she got a response, she throws in the "I'm a fighter" thing to seem playful, to advertise a bit of joie de vivre.

I didn't smell it out at the time.  But, thing is, I just didn't dig her.  At all.  So, I shook my head and stopped talking to her.

That finally got the point across.  She quietly stood there chatting with her beta male lapdog until her friends came out and they all loudly yakked as they crossed the street and the parking lot.  Off they drove.  End of Asian Girl, at least for that night.

Women don't believe rejection exists

One thing you have to understand is that women have been taught since very early in life that men are all horny fuck monsters that won't turn down a chance at sex.  Or even the chance at auditioning for a chance at sex. 

If a woman rates herself fuckable -- that is, she rates herself a 5 or higher -- she cannot conceive of a scenario where, if she offers herself to a man, he would ever say no.  The only reason, in this logic, that a straight man would ever reject her is if there is another woman present at that exact moment.

When you blunt a woman's advances, it forces her to recalibrate. 

The thing is, once she recalibrates, all bets are off.  She's sailing angry and emotional into uncharted waters. She has no clue what she's going to do.  I can list the responses I've seen . . .

1.  Simply try again.

In my experience, this is the most common response.  Since she has no idea what went wrong -- and she's absolutely sure there's nothing wrong with her -- she simply smashes the button again and sees what happens.  Maybe a wire was loose.  Maybe the guy got distracted.

Fucked if she knows.  Try again.

And some women just keep trying and trying again and get caught in an endless loop.

2.  Blow up.

I'd say this is the second most common response.  If the guy won't go for it, then just attack him and try to provoke a response.  I've actually seen Girl Game do this playfully as an opening move.

In contrast, sincerely blowing up on a guy is the mark of a chick who rates herself very highly.  If she blows up, she does it because the entire premise has thrown her off and she's flying on pure emotion.  At this point, she's totally gameless and doesn't even know why she's doing what she's doing.

3.  Challenge the guy.

What the Asian Girl did.  Put him on the spot.  Demand that he respond.  We've already covered this.

4.  Go big.

Every now and then I get a chick who responds my doubling down repeatedly.  She goes sluttier and more direct.  Go back and read the story of MILF Everest.  The idea here is to just lay so much sex in front of the guy that he can't possible not fuck her. 

It is a pure gambit.  It's also a complete concession to guy's alphaness.  At this point, it's pure surrender.  "Here's the pussy.  I need you to take it."  That's the proposal.

With MILF Everest, she started out shit testing me for Rich Guy Game.  I blew her out and she started pitching different angles until she was outright dry humping me in front of everyone.

"Go big" is a choice that only a woman who rates herself very highly and has never been rejected, ever, by a guy will go for.  She doubles down on sex because she is absolutely sure of the universal truth that men want to fuck her.  She goes big because every time she has ever been attracted to a guy in her life, it has ended in sex.  So, in her view, if a guy is so damned alpha, then this business damn well is ending in sex.  Even if she has to ram that pussy in their sideways.


If there's one thing I hope readers will understand, it's that women do not believe in a world where every guy doesn't want to fuck every woman who is at least average in looks (or better).

For as much as women complain about men being horn dogs, the truth is women cling to that belief without much regard to how demeaning it is to them.  It calls into question the whole notion of romantic love.  It pretty much obliterates and right she has to a sense of self-worth.  In short, it validates a lot of the evil shit men say about women.

But, at least a guy can get sex from it.  That's pretty good, right?

Oh, wait.  I'm always blowing women off and not fucking them.  And then they get angry.  Which is the part I like.  Ah, fuck it, whatever.  Sorry to disappoint.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Why so aloof? Because I think she'd mindlessly kill someone if she thought it would make me happy

One of the things I have always hated about being aloof is that women who show even the slightest hint of attraction toward me don't hesitate for a second to gobble up a big heaping plate full of rejection and distant attitude.  And then keep coming back for more.  Relentlessly.  For anywhere from six months to two years.

I always see it coming.  I know what they look like when that goddamned switch goes on in their heads.  There's just an earnestness to their posture.  You can see they're holding back a whole dam full of emotions.  In truth, it reminds me a lot of when teenage boys are trying to do everything in their power to not be overtly, physically sexual around girls in order to play it cool.  They just have a bounciness that betrays their feelings.

A while back I mentioned the current title holder of Most Relentlessly Earnest Chick Trying to Get Me.

A couple weekends back, she and I talked a bit -- she always initiates the chats.  She commented about the fact I had cut my hair -- I wore it longer than shoulder length for a couple years.  Now, she has ridiculously long hair, the type of long hair that frankly looks immature as fuck on an adult woman.  I mean, down below her ass hair. 

She said something to the extent of "Ermagerd, I could never cut my hair, I'd be so scared." 

My response was, "That shit's a choice."  End of conversation.

Now, this chick is worse than most of the women who have been dialed-in on me.  And that's some pretty tough company -- go back and read my story of the chick who let a couple weeks of casual sex end with "Do you think I'm the kind of girl you could ever see yourself having kids with?"

A couple months back she saw me pushing up on a really slutty biker chick.  The next time I saw her out, she went from being dressed like a typical American sweatshirt bum to a full-on, tits-out slut.

So . . . I should have known better than to tell her what I thought of her hair.  This Saturday, there she was with her hair cut to a normal adult length.  Just a shade below the shoulders.

One of the central conceits of being a woman is the notion that every guy is a horny beast who will bend to a woman's will if the offer of a good fuck is on the table.  It's one of the big reasons chicks go full retard for an aloof guy. 

But, it also carries with it something problematic I've noticed with how women respond to me.  Once they get dialed-in on me, they become convinced that the aloofness is a product of something they're doing wrong.  Which is sort of true, but earnestly trying to fix it just makes an aloof guy more and more suspicious.  Aloof men don't trust easily.  And we don't trust emotions.  And we sure as hell don't trust people who act in earnest.  And emotional woman who dives into love face-first will cause an aloof man to burrow as deep into his aloof psyche as he possibly can -- right down to the bedrock.

The thing is, this retreat by the aloof guy causes her to get worse.  These women keep thinking if they just keep turning the knobs eventually they'll hit the right frequency and the aloof guy will hear that perfect tone and suddenly stop the aloofness and begin pursuing her the way she desperately wants.  So, as he burrows down deeper and deeper trying to get away from her earnestness, she becomes more and more earnest, like a made scientist who can't just hang things up and go to bed, because she just knows in heart, in her bones, in her soul that if she can just fix that one more thing she'll have her run of the perfect guy.

And this chick's in bad.  I mean, she's in full "I'd totally have your babies" mode.  In truth, she's in full "I'd kill for you" mode.  She's in this mode where she just keeps seeing me respond to certain women and she imitates what they do.  She hears me say something and she immediately does exactly whatever off-handed thing I say to her implies she ought to do.

With a true aloof guy, that's so the wrong direction to go.  You can't do that.  We aloof guys don't trust intense emotions.  That's the primary reason we are aloof!  Come at us as hard as you can from as many directions as possible as often as you can makes the problem much, much worse.

Worse, I've seen this shit so many times before that I can game it out in the first couple minutes after I've met you.  I'm accustomed to women taking thirty seconds to decide they would surrender their entire lives to me.  I know that goddamned look in their eyes when it happens.  I know the tilt of their heads, the change of their postures, the emotional swell followed by the slow letdown each time she sees me and she once again realizes it ain't happening today -- but godammit, it is going to happen soon, just as soon as she throws out tonight's batch of love potion and works on next week's batch.

And they do this over and over and over again in this painful, fucked-up cycle.

And the truth is, I enjoy it.  My ego soaks that shit up.  I love it.  Seeing those girls who are hopelessly in love with me is one of the reasons I leave the house.  It's probably my favoritest thing in the world.  I love watching them deflate and die a little bit every time she sees me and once again that little play in her head -- the one where this time I show some interest, set aside the aloofness and ask her if she wants to go out sometime next week -- doesn't play out.

I'm fucking addicted to it.  It's vastly superior to sex.

So, with this chick, she's really feeding in to the problem.  I'm never gonna fuck her.  Not even if we were talking uncommitted, meaningless, unemotional sex -- the only kind I ever consent to these days.  She's not attractive enough for me to fuck.  She's only even allowed to talk to me because she misread a shitload of obvious signs of my disinterest.

But, it doesn't stop me from vulturing that ego trip off her earnestness.

In other words, this hair cutting thing?  Wow.  Wrong . . . fuckin . . . move . . .  It's just so much the wrong move I can't begin to express it.

There are basically two type of involvement a woman can have with a guy like me.  There's the sexless emotional vampire relationship.  And there's the emotionless sexual monster relationship.  And there's nothing in between.  If the emotional vampire relationship drifts toward sex, I'll kill it.  If the sexual monster relationship drifts toward emotions, I'll kill it. 

It's hopeless to think you're going to find the emotionally and sexually fulfilling middle ground with a guy like me.  It's not gonna happen.

And every woman I've every known in my life who got dialed-in on me emotionally ends up pissing away months of her life trying to turn the knobs slowly and hit that perfect frequency where the signal gets through to me.  And it's horrifying, because I know about two minutes in how it's gonna go.  And there isn't a goddamned thing I can do to stop her from going through the motions, over and over and over and over and over again for months on end.

Only months later do I see the next big sign.  That ugly, slightly sick to her stomach look.  She'll look like she needs to cry, but she sure as hell isn't going to let it happen.  She'll look like she needs to scream.  I can always see it. 

There's this ugly, dark, horrible moment when she can see me standing there -- this man that she's lived a whole perfect life with in her head -- and she realizes it's never going to happen and she starts to just hate herself for ever allowing it to come this.  I can see how stupid she feels.  I can see her anger.  I can see just how gross and miserable and ill she feels.

And that's what I hate right now with this current girl.  She is so dialed-in that she's just going to jam everything she can think of in there sideways and hammer it the fuck in there until it works.

I hate it because she's only getting to mid-process.  I wish there were some socially appropriate way to just stop her.  I wish I could just tell her, "I know you're in this really fucked-up place right now, but you need to stop this shit.  Now."

Not that it would work.  Women love distant, unavailable men.  Overtly telling her I'm distant and unavailable would only make the problem worse.  There's nothing sexier to a woman than a man who can do without her.

One of the central conceits of womanhood is this idea that some day you're going to find this perfect guy.  This guy who doesn't need you, but who nonetheless wants you.  He's going to be this big, tough, distant man who has his shit together and he just your love to open him up.  All he needs is the right coaxing.

So what if he's 34 years old and has never been in a real relationship?!  It can't possibly be your fault that every other woman on earth sucks!!  Fuck those bitches!  They aren't you, baby.  You're The One.  He's The One.  This shit's going down.  Everyone else just needs to get the fuck out of the way.  This is happening.

And then there's the big comedown.  That awful fucking week when it finally sinks he.  You're not special.  He's not The One.  All the coaxing in the world isn't going to make him stop being who he is.

And that's actually the most awful moment.  Because you can see that moment when she's right at the emotional cliff.  When she's really, really thinking about throwing all caution to the wind and just having a big emotional blow-up in front of everyone.  Over a guy who has never even told her his fucking name. 

And then it hits.  If she's pull that shit, she'll look mental as fuck.

One of the biggest fears that looms over women is the fear that if she ever laid it all on the line, everyone around them would wise up to what a fucking nutcase she is and never talk to her again.  This fear runs parallel to a fear that if she never lays it on the line, one day she's going to die alone and her body will be slowly eaten by the house full of cats she owns.

One thing that sucks about being an aloof, distant man is you get a front row seat where you can see it written all over her goddamned face.  You can see that exact moment a little piece of her soul goes dark, extinguished.  You can see the moment she realizes that part of her is dead, never to return.  You can see the moment she realizes that all that's left to do is amputate.

And every time I go out and run into one of these women, I know it's coming and there isn't a thing I can do to stop it.  Two minutes after she says hello, I can see that moment her pupils dilate too much.  I can see that moment her posture slackens.  I can she that moment where she decides she's going to jump on me.  She's going to fuck my brains out, cook for me, have my babies and no other man that ever meets her ever again should even bother.

At that moment, I just set the clock in my head.  Because it's happening again.  And I know how it ends.  And I can't do anything to stop it.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Guys? Smile more

This is just a bit of field reporting from last night, but . . .

Last night I was out at a bar I really hate.  There's a chick there that bartends who is 100% my type -- big ass, dark hair, sassy mouth.  The thing is, I don't do much to play at bartenders, waitresses, shotgirls, etc.  I've always considered it unfair to game them, since being friendly is a key component of their employment. 

In the past, I haven't sensed any play with this bartender anyhow. 

Last night she was a rough night dealing with the drunks.  At one point she cut a guy off completely.  He gave her hell.  So, she poured him a shot and then knocked it back right in front of him and yelled, "There's yer fucking shot right there!"

I smiled.  I thought that was funny as shit.  Thing is, that was when she broke through and started talking to me.  She was having a rough night and clearly needed a friend. 

We were talking outside the bar after hours while the drunks were still around.  She got pissed at a few of them and pointed at me and told them this is how you behave.  Then she took my hand.  She said I was quiet and not looking to prove anything to anyone.  Lesson being?  This is how you be a man.

The thing is, women like aloof guys for that reason right there.  And gawd knows she was probably digging me way before this.  But, all that sexy aloofness creates a barrier for women. 

That first smile -- right when she needed a smile -- was the breakthrough.

Aloof can be good.  But, at some point the girl's gotta see ya smile.  Women like the tough, aloof, distant guy.  But women need that positive feedback.  Maybe even more when it's with an aloof guy, because that aloofness can shut a girl right down.

So, aloog guys?  Smile a bit more.  Don't worry.  You're not going to overdo it.  It's just not in our nature.

Monday, October 1, 2012

The failure of holding love up too high

There are a handful of concepts that I find reprehensible.  One of them is the notion of the "soul mate". 

Let's skip right past the low-hanging fruit.  Sure, if one soul out there is the one for you, odds are they're a Han Chinese man who you will never encounter.  Skip that.  Too easy.  Also, let's skip right past the fact there is no such thing as the human soul, at least not in the crazy, ephemeral New Age religion sense.

Let's hit the hard target: what is love in reality?

Well?  Love is the product of certain chemicals in your brain going bonkers after you have been exposed to enough visual and social stimuli to convince you that you might want to fuck another human being.  It's a cocktail of oxytocin and social conditioning and evolutionary hard-wired sexual cues that when shaken up causes you to ignore all reason and make what amounts to a very bad choice for you individually: letting someone have a say in your life without being able to quantify why they deserve that say.

Just to be clear, I'm not a downer on love itself.  Knowing how love works is like knowing how chocolate works.  You can understand the entire process from a biochemistry standpoint without in any meaningful way destroy the fun of it.

What I'm down on is the deification of love.  What I'm down on is the notion that love is the broad, existential ideology that transcends anything at all.  It isn't.  Suck it.  Your love isn't special.

If love were anywhere near as mysterious as people claim, there would be numerous badly mismatched couples out there.  Six hundred pound chicks with serious hygiene issues soul mating it up with Wall Street types.  That shit doesn't happen outside of a few fetish porn websites.  Or maybe a Fetlife meetup with really good drugs.

The truth is, attraction leads to arousal which leads to sex which leads to bonding which leads to love.  A lot of things have to occur before you get to the love part.  And a lot of things have to go right afterward to sustain it.  And all of those things are readily -- nay, scientifically -- verifiable.  They can be field-tested and applied over and over again across cultures.

So, love isn't big and brave and crazy and mysterious.  It's only bigger than life because as a species we depend on it to stamp out the next generation of life.  To you personally, that's not a big deal except insofar as it alters your life's path. 

None of that requires that we elevate love to the status of a religion or an ideology or whatever the hell it is people think it is.  There is no great mystery.  There is no great lesson to be learned.  It just is.

There's nothing wrong with that.  One of humanity's great faults is our inability to just be.  We piss away a lot of energy and time chasing around and trying to wrangle a universe that was here before us and will be here long after all of us are gone and that just flat-out doesn't give a fuck that any of us were ever born.  And we do this to no effect -- save for the times it backfires and it all ends in a murder-suicide.

There's nothing wrong with just being.  There's nothing wrong with love just being what it is.  I know how chocolate stimulates my brain.   It's not a mystery.  And there's nothing wrong with that just being how it is. 

Same goes for love.  Love is just part of being human.  Don't deify it. Don't hold it up to some blinding light.  Don't build it up into something that transcends existence itself.

Love just is.