Numbers [Flirtation]

Believe it or not, I've never been the type to just walk up to a girl and just start talking to her in the hopes of walking away from this interaction with her number. When I'm behind a bar slinging bottles, it doesn't count; because it's more of the position flexing the power than my actual charm. Sure, my witty wisecracks and vibrant behavior play a wee part, but it doesn't work in front of the bar. Remember what happened the last time I tried to pick up a girl? Yeah, nothings changed. Now I know what you're thinking, "How's that true if your promiscuous lifestyle is also true?" Pure, dumb, uninhibited LUCK, and my animal magnetism to attracting random situations.

A fine example of this particular 'mojo', if you will, are my roles of maintenance guy to my female friends, and recently the eye candy of women in their thirties. (which, BTW I'm loving, because I'm sick of the mentality of women my age, and to them I'm nothing more than a piece, so everyone benefits.) But it's weird, because I never would've expected someone of my ...habits to attract women far my superiors and have their numbers stuffed into my pants while I'm working. It'd be nice if it were that easy for ALL women. Which kinda brings me here.

Earlier this week, I experienced a situation at my bar where a woman was attracted to a guy and she kinda wanted him to say something to her, but he didn't. In fact, I doubt he noticed her. Why? She was cute. Really cute... in the naive sort of way. So why?

Are you asking yourself why didn't HE say something?

Okay... because I asked her why didn't SHE say something. Her reply was she was shy. Eh. What really knocked me off my rocker was my co-worker's response- "Hey, I'm a woman. My momma taught me that the man should come after me." and she stuck to that saying despite whatever situation I could come up with. (i.e. What if you noticed him standing at a hot dog stand from your office window- and he just captivated you? her reply: If he can't see me, oh well.)

And that kinda scares me.

Because if I'm not saying anything... and she's not saying anything- well, that's a pickle isn't it? You know who IS saying something? Losers and chickenheads. It's the only explanation why there are

so many mismatched couples out there. You know what I'm talking about- Great girl- lots of positive attributes, and her bum ass boyfriend. (...and vice versa) I hear horror stories everyday.

When it comes to some guys, myself included- it almost seems like most women have this 6 foot thick defensive exterior, where it's almost equivalent to kamikaze duty to speak to women in social settings. (Something I blame completely on dirtbag guys. ...I'll leave it at that.) I know, I know- it sounds like an excuse, but it's kind of true. I'm saying all of this because I've (I've as in we've) got to get better at this- it's not fair of me to expect women to approach me if there's an attraction. Just like women shouldn't expect me to go after them- especially if they're gonna make a simple meeting harder than threading a needle blind. I should totally be the one to go after her, but- I mean if it's mutual... what's wrong with her saying "Hi"? Or saying anything just to give me a little help... I don't know. It just seems like A LOT of pressure on me, I have to initiate, bait, ensnare, follow through and be consistent (and that's depending on if I want to remain a quality individual, because I can skip consistency and just go for the lust and jet before my wet spot is dry.) I can't rely on shagging women who hit on me at my job forever, that's really not how I'm looking forward to telling my kids that's how I met their mother.

"Yeah son, she was sucking down Mai Tais and then with those big brown dazed eyes, she slurred coyly, 'I wanna blow you.'... at that moment I knew she was the one."

I guess what I'm trying to say in the end is, meeting folk has become more difficult than it actually should be. There's really no reason why good folk should feel like all the great catches are taken

(A common thing I hear, but don't believe) or that you should look pretty and hope I have the courage to come to you. Isn't that a tad silly? When you could just as easily say 'hi', or ask for directions to somewhere you really don't care about going, or even compliment my shirt. Whatever. Everyone step their game up, and simultaneously be more open for new possibilities. You see the guy is trying, he's approached you, he's a bit nervous, he's trying to make conversation- don't be a rottencrotch, give him a chance. (Yeah, I'm talking about you Mr. "I-have-no-game" game guy.) If he's not tickling your fancy, don't prolong the inevitable for him and torture yourself. Let him go immediately, with tact. (and of course, vice versa... if applicable.)

Aww fuckit. I'm just rambling again. ...as if any of this makes any kind of sense.

Flirtation: Attention without Intention. ~Max O'Rell, John Bull and His Island

Some Like It Hoth [Being awesome instead]

Twice this week, I've been reminded of my Anakin Skywalker days.

You know... Anakin Skywalker...infamous good guy tragic fall from grace... becomes Darth Vader... yeah that guy, and those days. See most of you know me as this hedonistic drunk, a guy who creates crazy situations, just to sit back and watch it all go down. Maybe you've heard that I'm a confident womanizer, likes girls with 'daddy issues' and is always willing to offer his (sometimes hypocritical) opinion. I've heard that I can be opportunistic and manipulative, and will attempt to manipulate a situation so that it goes my way. Most of that is true.

Significant others of my friends know another sparkling quality about me. I'm the guy that tells them [my friends] to challenge their amazonian/chauvinistic master hood. Some of them believe that I'm the butterfly effect that brought about the end of their "perfect relationship". For some of them, that's true. Most of them it's not.

Believe it or not, I once was a 'good guy'

I was a romantic. Earlier in the week- I was reminded of the time I stood outside in the rain waiting on a chance to bump into Woody, a former member of the R&B group, Dru Hill. An hour later, I meet him, soaked... and he signs his CD, so that I can fulfill the desires of the girl I was seeing- who was his 'number 1' fan. Flash forward a month into the future- and she leaves me to be with a guy who failed the 10th grade twice, and had a kid. I'm using 'leaves' freely because as I would find out during that same week, she wasn't 'with' me in the first place. She was as she said it- "just having fun." Don't believe me? Well... here's some circumstantial evidence.

After several crushing situations, including being involved with a victim of domestic abuse only to turn around and watch her go back to the clown- I like Anakin, ...fell to the dark side. The dark side, which was becoming the person I am now. Complete with the drinking binges, and the reckless juggernauting of random women's nether regions. Which reminded me of another fictional character whose story almost mirrors mine exactly. Barney Stinson. (from "How I Met Your Mother") He was a happy guy, in love with a girl only to have her coldly leave him for an arrogant rich guy. Not too long after he became exactly what his love left him for. His transformation from a lover to a luster was even like mine: (lol, notice the Darth Vader influence)

I tell you this to point out, I too know what it feels like to be in a dead-end stressful relationship.

I was totally smitten with at least five women before I crossed over. I don't regret it, I just choose not to re-live it. Simply because, in retrospect- I was lying to myself when I was with 4 of them. I knew at some level, that I never would marry those girls, or have children with them.

It's funny, people like to talk down about my lifestyle- how I'm hiding behind a fear of rejection or I'm afraid of giving in, or whatever- but that's not true. I'm not sad at all. I've been out there, I know what it's like. I've experienced some great situations- I've experienced some shitty ones. I like the comfort of knowing that I'd rather play around with numerous women I'm never going to want to be in a relationship, while still open to receive 'the one' -than to actually be with someone who I know deep down it's never going to work. I'm not afraid of relationships, I'm afraid of wasting time. I'm not afraid of falling in love, I'm afraid of falling in love with the idea of being in love. I have the ability to straighten out my act if the RIGHT thing comes along, but I don't need to be with someone so desperately that I find someone and try to 'fix' and 'mold' them into something I want. Boo to that noise.

I'm often labeled as the guy who's miserable and just wants to "drag everyone down into my miserable pit of bachelorhood" but that's far from the truth. I don't 'need' anyone (as I've heard folk say), and I don't have to act a certain way when my ladyfriend is around, just to 'let it all hang out' when she's not around. If you have to do that, then you're a slave to the falsified ideas of romance. Furthermore, my life's my own- I have to fix my shit daily. I'm not thinking about the sexual status of two other people. So, before you point that shameful finger at me, or Barney, or any other guy or gal like us- look at the quagmire you're in. Chances are, your shit failed before it even started.

...or maybe I'm just ranting again. Bring on the loose wimmens.

"One day I was sad, but then I stopped being sad and started being awesome instead. True story." -Barney Stinson

LaGrandeur [Destiny of all Men]

If "greatness is thrust upon us," as Winston Churchill once said, then it stands to reason that those who are destined for greatness are rarely aware of it. In more reasons than one, that makes perfect sense. If one knew what his life had in store for him, then his thoughts his choices, everything about his behavior would all be to promote or sway his predestined path.

If people truly had the power to map out their own destiny, then everyone would have a success story, no?

Maybe. Maybe not. Such a paradoxical life we live, and depending on how you look at it, it can be saddening. What about the folk who everyone enjoys, that want to ascend to 'their' own personal greatness- yet they're wasting their life working at a convenience store?

Or...
That's what everyone has them believe.

Who's to say that greatness means success- or fame and fortune? Shouldn't it really be about making a difference? Improving the quality of life? Does that mean anything anymore? Hmm. Maybe it does, probably does not.

I've always been a bit of a charlatan. I've been deceptive in my social life, and my romances. However, I was mostly deceptive to myself, in the form of self-deprecating humor, stoicism, and secret pseudo-misanthropy. It wasn't until recently that I discovered the worth of life, friends, and a good woman.

I guess the point I'm trying to make here is I've discovered my own personal greatness. No, I'm not a millionaire and I'm not known around the world. I am however, loved by few. I am finally experiencing regret for the men I've killed. I am ready to make some woman truly happy. (...but I'm not stupid, so that last one I won't rush.) I look forward to helping my people now, and I don't expect help in return. I realize now that The Constant wasn't blowing smoke up my ass. I am a survivor. I'm going to march where others stumble...and I shall be there to help them up so they can stand beside me. For if I see folk on the way up, it's only feasible that I will see them on the way down if I ever fall.

I'm not perfect. It's just what I think. (...and NO. this doesn't make me a hippie.)

"I think the destiny of all men is not to sit in the rubble of their own making but to reach out for an ultimate perfection which is to be had. At the moment, it is a dream. But as of the moment we clasp hands with our neighbor, we build the first span to bridge the gap between the young and the old. At this hour, it’s a wish. But we have it within our power to make it a reality. If you want to prove that God is not dead, first prove that man is alive." -Rod Serling

Flashes Before Your Eyes

2001

We had been good friends a couple months and here I was at her birthday party. She was trying to end her night on a good note, in the bed of some kid who apparently was the life of the event. I had a crush on her but my whorish ways would never allow me to give in to a woman who hadn't paid me much attention the way I wanted. So when the phone call came from a fairly loose girl I'd been shagging, I took the caller on her offer and went to see her.

2008

I feel as though she abandoned me for the wants of her husband. She said we'd always be there for one another... but here I am, without. I fell back into my old habits of travelling with no destination... riding buses, trying to find myself. I'm gone for 2 months. Finding myself. In Oklahoma, I write her a letter. I mail it to a friend who places it in her parents' mailbox. She is not happy about this. She admits that she keeps my grandmother's number hidden in her phone, just in case I ever fell off the deep end. I don't know what to say.

2004

She loves me. But she's still not with me for various reasons now. I'm not in school, I'm unemployed and I have no real purpose in mind. I am however drinking.... all the time. She drives from her apartment in Salisbury, MD to come see me because I've been avoiding her for a week now. My roommate let's her in. I'm in bed, passed out, drunk. The empty bottle nestled under my head like a pillow. She's upset, but she's even more disappointed. I'm surprised she made the trip. I realize I need to do right by this woman.

2003

She's now attends school in Pittsburgh. I make the drive to go see her quite often. She appreciates it because she's lonely, and none of her other friends can come up as often as I can. She's going through a rocky breakup with her boyfriend... and I'm enjoying it. We become close. She tells me that "No matter what, I'll always be in her life." She uses the term soul mate. I suddenly feel alive for the first time in a long time. I want this girl forever.

2010

She sends me a Facebook message that simply says, "miss you" I look longingly at her avatar. It's a blissful picture of her, the husband, and their one year old child. I am depressed.

2004

I spend a week with her at her Salisbury apartment. I cry in front of her. It's the first time I've cried in over 8 years. I promise to teach her baseball as we watch the ALCS. I tell her about the "Curse of the Bambino". She feels sad for the Sox as I cheer on my Yankees. She prays for the Red Sox. The Red Sox take the ALCS.

2001

I've returned to the party. I walk in as if I just left for cigarettes. She's a little disappointed. She takes me outside. We sit in my car, and she's complaining about how I left to go sleep with "one of my hos" during her party. I tell her we're not together, and she went off to go molest that Jason guy so what's the big deal? She exhales. She tells me that if I think she never considers how perfect we'd be for each other then she overestimated me... but the bottom line is, we're too good of friends to experiment with a relationship. I tell her that's a load of horseshit. I tell her to trust me. She says this will end badly. I tell her to have faith in me.

2002

I'm pissed drunk. My buddies are celebrating my birthday with me. She's with her boyfriend somewhere. She's told me several times before that she doesn't want to hear about "me and my random hos" I don't get it. We used to talk freely all the time. I call her up. I'm wasted. She picks up and I tell her that I'm about to sleep with some girl I met an hour prior. She doesn't congratulate me. She tells me that I have zero boyfriend experience. Three weeks later, I find a girlfriend just to prove her wrong.

2003

She asks me how many women have I slept with so far. We spend an hour rounding out the figure. She is disgusted.

2007

She reveals that she's seeing someone new. Someone who apparently went to school with me. Whoever he is, I imagine giving him a Glasgow smile.

2003

She wants to sleep with me. I refuse, because I feel I'm the rebound from the nasty breakup with her boyfriend. She tells me a month later that she is hesitant about sleeping with me because I have a track record of leaving women after I sleep with them. Maybe she's right. Maybe that's the real reason I didn't go the distance that night.

2004

She moves to Salisbury, not far from old associates of mine. While she's in class, she specifically asks me not to invite any of my associates in her house. What she doesn't. Know can't hurt her right? That is, until they steal something of hers. Boy, was I surprised. I'd never seen her that angry before.

2005

After a series of arguments, I tell her to go off and live her life. I obviously was one disappoint after another and some other guy can probably do much better. I then hang up, and go buy a bus ticket.

2002

She tells me she loves me. I tell her I love her.

2008

She marries her boyfriend. I find out through the Internet.

2000

We hang out together for the first time. We have so much in common. We laugh at the same jokes. We decide that we're going to know each other forever. I usually doubt such comments like this, but with this one...

John Doe is Dead [Real Manly]

This world is full of opportunity and choice and all sorts of goodies. As Brad Pitt said in 'Troy,' "Do you know what's there, waiting beyond that beach? Immortality! Take it! It's yours!" If he said that in today's settings he probably would've added, "...if you're willing to grow a pair and seize it!"

Let me backtrack.

Earlier this year, we were drowned into the Conan O'Brien situation, where NBC pretty much tried to slip a dick in his ass for another guy- and he very casually, blatantly and with much respect replied, "Fuck You." Alright, he didn't say that. Nevertheless, he knew after that shadiness, saying fuck it and parting ways was the best way to go.

I was more than impressed. Half of me expected him to put his tail between his legs and fade to black, subliminally talking shit, whining and poking his lip out. Not the case at all. He approached the situation like a man. In those last episodes, Conan went from 'the Goof' to 'the Barbarian'

In a fine example of professional kung-fu, he channeled the chi of every screwed over, unappreciated, run through the mud, man in America. He shat on NBC and their financial woes without resorting to petty name-calling and cynicism.

I started to wonder why I was surprised at his candor. I am a man's man. Not a fat ass with a six pack and gravy stains on my wife beater as I watch the game. Not a juice head that's always in the gym oiling myself down and spotting other guys in more than one definition. Not the kind that gets a chubby when I smell fresh lumber and touch a new power drill. (Okay, maybe that last one was a lie)

I like scotch old enough to order scotch, American beer and I occasionally enjoy a decent cigar. I love my country. I served my country. I love my God. I like suiting up, and I like scantily clad women, in the proper settings. Not loose bitches, not strippers... classy dames.

I like lounges and a bloody steak, I like a fine tailored suit. I like reading about the Yankee's new prospects over breakfast. I own a tuxedo, and a grilling apron with an ridiculous saying on the front. I know how to change my car's tires, change the oil, and rotate the tires. I can install the battery and know how to read and replace fluids. I know how to chop firewood for my apartment's fireplace. I like spending time with my kids, (if I had any) boxing and playing ball with my son, reminding my daughter that she's my princess. I like to pinch my lady's ass when she walks past.

So why was I surprised? My actions would've been the same as Conan's. Then it came to me like an epiphany. I was surprised because 'man' has become SOFT.

I went through my friend's list on Facebook. Nothing but guys whining about their girlfriends, or how work is SO hard, and bragging about fashion. *sigh* FASHION. Sunday I spent an hour in the mall, eating a Cinnabon, taking notes and observing. I saw more men trying on clothes and window shopping than I did women. 103 men and 78 women to be exact.

Don't catch offense, don't get your panties in a bunch, Nancy. I'm not saying men shouldn't shop, nor am I saying a man shouldn't cook or clean. I'm not ignorant. What I am saying however, is that man should be a steam engine of backbone, masculinity, distinction, education, and honor. Standing on the block, smacking some chick up doesn't make you a man. Thug/Goon =/= MAN. It's like Andre said, "I'm a G- entleman" and furthermore being gay doesn't excuse you from being a fucking man.

Can't picture it? too many of you are more "queer eye" when you should be more like Robert Downey Jr. in Iron Man or Sherlock Holmes. Pillars of confidence, genius in your field of practice, capable of holding down your own. Easily set apart in your demeanor from a woman, or better yet, a little boy.

Is it too much too ask? Are you thinking to yourself right now how I'm just filling in stereotypes? Then maybe YOU need to man up. That's how I feel. If you don't like it, then pay me no damn attention. However, I strongly feel that the decline of man from the title of MAN, is the reason for so much social dysfunction. Too many males, not enough men. Hell, I know some lesbians that assume the mantle of MAN better than some males. Shame on you males.

C'mon guys... we were hunters once! Now we get mad if the foam isn't proper on our Vente coffees or whatever pussy drinks ya'll are getting from Starbuck's. Yes, YOU.

Real men wouldn't have numerous kids from numerous women, because a real man is responsible enough to protect himself and his legacy. A real man wouldn't hit a woman because he already knows he's going to molly whop her and he's no bully. A real man wouldn't be content with his woman being the head of the household. (Note: I'm not talking about whether she makes more than you or not, because sometimes that can't be avoided.) A real man always keeps his composure in tragedy when he's depended on and finally, a real man doesn't whine like a little bitch when things don't go his way. He sucks it up and drives on.

Can we get back there? Can we remasculate ourselves?

...probably not.

"I was feeling real good and real manly. Until a real cowboy walked by and told me I had my hat on backwards. So much for my life as a cowboy." -Michael Biehn