Girls have no idea how profoundly exhausting it is to be a man. While I'm sure being a woman has its exhausting features, like constantly having energy flying at you from men, I'd take that in a heartbeat over the exhaustion caused by having to always be the pursuer. The bottom line is this;
If we don't ask... there is no chance for us, and therefore you, to ever have love.
Think about that for a second. Just let those words slowly make their way through your bloodstream like the evil virus they are. Don't worry; I'll feed you the antidote just before you die.
If... we... don't... ask... there... is... no... chance... of... ever... having... love.
Fucking epic.
Imagine going through life with the absolute knowledge that if you don't risk abject rejection at best, cuckolding at worst, you're going to be alone for the rest of your life.
Pretty scary. And the least women should be doing (since they aren't helping the process and are apparently locked in one of their rare brain freezes of stupidity, not realizing that like the scorpion killing the frog half way across the pond, they are killing their own chances of love by not helping,) is worshiping at our warrior fucking feet every second of every day in gratitude for our courage to do it all ourselves.
I'm a fairly massive risk taker and always have been; deciding long ago that the pain of failure is no where near as profound as the pain of staring up at your ceiling at night knowing deep down you didn't have the guts to try. That regret is something I refuse to live with, so I keep asking. Doing. I get my teeth kicked in 99 percent of the time, but when I win... I win big. Dream-come-true-big.
In everything. Work, friends, God, women. Risking vulnerability is the biggest gift I believe you can give. Whenever I offer love, even at the smallest level, I'm risking getting hurt, which is really really not fun. But we do it because we're noble.
After being rejected by women over and over and over for years and years, some polite but most with an air of "You're the scum of the earth for having deigned to say 'Hi' to me," I am nearing the end of my rope. God only gave me a certain amount of energy for this job and it's almost gone.
I've been asked out twice in twenty years.
There may have been a few smiles and glances that were invites to approach, lessoning the risk of rejection, but still, in the end, I had to open my mouth first. A girl just straight up saying, "You wanna go out with me?" There have been two. Ask most guys, I think that's actually pretty good. THAT'S INSANE!!! Two fucking girls have had the guts to ask me out in TWENTY YEARS?!!!!! Listen, I'm not the cat's meow to all but I don't think it's conceited to think more than TWO girls in TWENTY years have wanted to go out with me.
What the fuck! And with every rejection, it gets harder. There is a necessary built-in- forgetter God has installed in us or there would be no more life. No more babies, except hooker babies which probably wouldn't be enough to sustain mankind for very long. But even with this machinery that enables us to not be mortally wounded by the "fuck off" vibe most women give to our simple and sane request for their attention, the cruel rebuffs still add up and render us increasingly like scared members of some sick experiment in torture, frightened of our own shadow, which of course is the biggest turn off of all and gets us even more rejected. The vicious cycle. All set in motion by cowardly women.
Listen, I don't drink or do drugs or rage or shut down. I'm on the cutting edge of what I feel most of the time. And to all of you who don't think you identify with me on this, I humbly submit that you are in for a rude awakening if you ever wake up and shake free of all the things you do to deny what's really going on with you, so don't judge too harshly lest that add to your catastrophic breakdown when and if you choose to leave your slumber for the real world.
I'm not saying you gals should say yes to boys you don't want to, I'm just asking if you could summon the fucking strength to even the playing field just a bit and ask us out once in a while. Come on, I know you have it in you. You have the balls to show all sorts of other emotions, cry in public, push gargantuan objects out of small holes in your bodies, enduring much physical pain, you're the fucking love creatures for God's sake. You're very powerful. Can you maybe have the spine to say this one tiny little sentence, "Hey. I was wondering if you wanted to get a coffee some time?" I mean, please! You wanna be president. You wanna get paid the same for the same work. You don't want to be treated with sexism, heed Gandhi's words and "become the love you want to see in the world." What you give, you get. And maybe, just talking out my ass here now, on a bit of a roll, the hatred that comes your way sometimes is the understandable collective pent up rage, fear, hurt and anguish of thousands of years of our burden of proof.
You now have the power. I've given you the gift. You can turn it all around and conquer. Just with one little sentence. "Hey. You wanna have coffee sometime?"
See, girls, taking the proactive approach has many benefits. Ultimately, the best one is that you'll get everything you want. Secondly, you'll be giving us a wonderful gift we richly deserve and by doing so, we'll chill way the fuck out and be much more easy to get along with and be the boys you want us to be... at least much closer to the boys you want us to be. And thirdly, you can let go of that really evil by product of the existing boys-always-have-to-ask paradigm; loving us with your eyes and then still rejecting us when we come over and talk to you, acting as if you hadn't just been loving us with your eyes.
A classic example of this gross phenomenon occurred in yoga last week. I noticed a very sexy black haired chick in the back on the right. I hadn't seen her before and although I do go to yoga to find God, while I'm there, if I find a wife, I'm killing two birds with one stone.- I just realized what a horrible saying that is in general but really in this context. Yoga, love, God? Killing birds? Not good. We can never use that again.
I'd be gaining the love of God even more so by finding him in her. There, that's nicer.
Anyway, so I saw this girl. It was before class so I pretended I needed another block and headed across the room towards the closet where they keep them so I could pass right by her. She caught my stare and suddenly a big smile flooded her face. I was shocked. That almost never happens. Usually it's the opposite when you look at a girl, she looks away in disgust. I returned her smile. She kept smiling and didn't look away. Amazing! Did she know who I was maybe? A fan? I didn't care. I had gotten a double-no-look-away-smile. I passed her without saying anything, grabbed a block from the closet behind her, bashed her in the head with it, dragged her unconscious body into the bathroom and fucked her.
No, of course I didn't do that, but as a man, that's what we're wired to do, so you might want to give us all a little credit for abandoning that arcane instinct and supplanting it with the much more civilized watching America's Next Top Model. I think we've come a long way baby...
I stood behind her with my block and plotted my strategy. It was yoga so you to have to be very respectful and not misjudge a loving vibe from a girl lest you wrongly return a flirty vibe and blow her whole unconditional-love-I'm-In-Yoga-why-are-you-hitting-on-me-that's-not-what-I-meant thing.
But I really felt I wasn't misreading her vibe and decided to talk to her. See, this is what I'm talking about. There are twenty women all within ten feet of her, surrounding her with their communal we-must-protect-each other-from-the-evil-men vibe and the ones that aren't silently sending out that vibe are competitive and hate you and her for your attention to her so it's a mine field any way you look at it. If you whisper to her, it's conspicuous and creepy and projects no confidence so in this venue, wooing is very very difficult, but I wasn't about to pass up her invitation, so I threw hell to the wind, and went for it. I noticed she was wearing a watch.
"You gonna wear that watch when you practice?"
She looked up and...
To be continued...
Posted by Eric Schaeffer at 9:46 PM