A Misanthropic Asexual's Veiws on Dating
I just don't get it...
Although watching the world's dating rituals has brought me endless hours of entertainment I can't say I get it. It seems like too much work to me, with too little chance of success. Then again I might just be lazy...
I was in one of my insomniatic trances one night when I decided to flick on the TV to see what could lull me to sleep. Unfortunately my only choices were infomercials, my ceiling, or Biography. I chose Biography. It was on Sylvia Plath, someone I knew scant little about. I was never big on poetry or female hysterics so you can see why there was no familiarity there. In any event there was one anecdote that startled me from my half-sleep.
Apparently Sylvia Plath met her husband while she was in college at a party. She knew who he was (another poet - how surprising) and spent some time talking to him. At some point he stops talking to her and gives her a big kiss. I can see why most women would be offended at this and can even see some of them opting for a good hard slap. Dearest little Sylivia on the other hand opted for a good hard bite, on the cheek, which was actually said to have drawn blood. You'd think that would be the end of this psychotic story but it's not. Apparently intrigued by this her husband-to-be started a whirlwind courtship with her, ending in marriage. What could have possibly been going through either of their minds!? "Awe, I think I fancy the rabid chick in the corner playing hard to get." "Damn him! I shall bite you again if you come closer but please do..." We all know how the marriage ended, as so many would end if it were only socially more acceptable, in suicide.
Perhaps that story has got even the avid dater going, "What the...?" but really, I just used an extreme anecdote to illustrate how unnatural and unhealthy I think most dating is...
Outsider Looking In
Most dating begins at home in preparation for the big night. This is where the psychosis starts like a tiny seed and starts to grow out of hand. I can understand the desire to look good, I mean only a lazy nutball would want to market themselves as damaged goods before they even say a word. We're a visual species, it makes sense. What doesn't make sense is the rest of it.
There's a woman casing her entire apartment throwing every dress she owns (never anything that's not uber-feminine) on her bed like she's robbing the place. She's trying to decide what to wear. She holds up the conservative picks and throws them back into the closet usually in favor of some tiny piece of fabric which will highlight "the girls" like a flashing neon light. How tasteful. When she's down to a handful of picks she tries to rope her friends into giving their opinion which one looks best. These suggestions of course are just her friends playing lip service. They know she's not going to take their advice.
During the next hour the woman runs around picking up Nylons, the perfect shoes (whatever that means) and fidgeting with her hair. Finally she locks herself in the bathroom and empties her make-up case onto her face. "Why?" I ask. "To make it look natural! It must be just right!" Of course, there's nothing more natural then lathering brightly colored fish scales and beetle shells on your lips (as this is generally what lipstick and red dye are made from.) "It makes me look alive!" Oh, how was I supposed to know your normal face looks dead...
Meanwhile, on the other side of town a guy is getting ready, a whole 20 minutes before if he's one of the dressy types. If he is a dressy type he's probably been on three dates this week and is practicing going over those really bad pick up lines in his head. If he's a less social type actually looking for a steady girlfriend he's probably trying to convince himself to go at all. Low self esteem is a kicker.
Finally the two meet at some predetermined destination for a good meal, or something like that. The chick orders something light, maybe a salad and croutons, to make it look like she has one of those healthy aversions to food that are so common these days. The guy orders something and a coke. Unless it's a really fancy restaurant, in which case the woman's trying all the harder and the man is buying some sort of hard to spell antiquated liquor.
During the entire time both are trying to impress each other by any means possible, including pretending to give a fuck about shit they couldn't care less about. "Oh you're a financial planner? How fascinating!" There's no better way then to snag the perfect mate then to pretend to be someone you hate. That's in the dating rule book. At the end of the evening several things could happen.
If it's a tasteful date the two will part their ways, maybe giving a modest little kiss to each other and saying goodnight. Or perhaps if the guy's a real smooth talker they'll hook up and the woman will come home the next day to bitch at her friends, "I can't believe it! He never called back! I never do this sort of thing!" Of course none of her friends believe her but they still pat her on the back and try to console her during the bitchfest.
Then there's the possibility one or both of them hate each other in which case they'll go their separate ways and I won't get the fun of picking on them any longer.
And the Bitch-Fest Begins...
I'm really tired listening to women badmouth men because they were doing something stupid. They have at least one whole television channel dedicated to men bashing (yay Lifetime!) and yet they still feel the need to pull out the ice cream, gather all their friends and cry, "Men are pigs!" When did our society decree women are blameless, flawless, perfect little creatures? Playing the victim card is just copping out if you ask me.
It's not even the low self-esteem, the blaming of others, or the constant whining that bothers me the most. It's the roller coaster that changes from day to day that makes these same bitching women go out and try again! I don't know, if I do something that I find unpleasing or harmful to myself I don't tend to go out and try to slam my head on the wall again... that's just common sense. Just put up or shut up!
There's a devout older Baptist woman I know whose been married two or three times and has a bunch of adult children. Imagine my surprise when she told me, without stumbling over a single word, "You should marry a sugar daddy. It's the best kind of marriage, just get one who has one foot in the grave and the other foot on a banana peel." Wow, how... righteous. Does God look well upon scammers? Because I'm pretty sure that's a scam...
This same woman has a deadbeat son, her youngest, who is married with a daughter. When his gal got pregnant he had 5 other girlfriends (and was still trying to ask me out.) His mother convinced him to get married... for the sake of the child. It's been about four years, I believe. He never stopped having extracurricular "girlfriends" and recently the two split up because his wife refused to be chummy with these extra gals. His mother's input to her daughter-in-law? "All men cheat. You should have expected this. Just look the other way and work it out."
All men cheat... wow, and I thought I was pessimistic! Isn't one of the commandments "Thou shalt not screwest thy neighbor's wife?" I don't even believe in monogamy myself (I think it's setting one's self up for failure on both sides of the sex wars) but this stunned me. If you're a devout Baptist family where in the Bible does it say, "Women must be chaste to all but their husbands.... but their husbands may screw anything with XX chromosomes?" I would really like to know!
At the end of the day I'm not allowed to say anything because I don't have "experience." If I do try to say anything they just get snarky at me. They're jealous, I know, of the fact I can see things for what they are and keep myself out of these situations. I live my life with the motto, "Low expectations are a good thing." I also don't fill my head with fanciful ideas, like snagging the "perfect man" or trying to create one.
My Baptist friend has been trying to ask me out wince I was literally twelve years old. I knew, at twelve, that he'd prove only to be an aggravation and a disappointment so I repeatidly turned him down. Call it feminine intuition, or keen observations and sharp insight, I don't care but the little voice in my head has served me well. When I told a female friend of mine he had a baby and was going to get married in a shotgun wedding she turned to me and said, "You should have went out with him. I know you wouldn't be pregnant. You could change him." No, sorry, I don't try to change people. People are who they are. Changing them is impossibility and I know that. Besides that it's sleazy to date someone just to make them what you think is a better person!
This is not to say men are blameless. Neither sex is blameless in the insane head games we like to play with each other. In most instances blame should rest on both parties. Still, it's somewhat refreshing to sit back and listen to my guy friends talk about their gals. "My girlfriend went berserk last night for no apparent reason..." It's really quite entertaining. Self-destruction is such an amazing thing...
You'll Die Sad and Alone...
Awe, you're just saying that to cheer me up. I used to be surprised at how catty women can be, to their own friends no less! I've actually been told this very phrase many times. Now I just smile in that dotty way of mine. It's just as deceiving.
My male friends are a bit better, but not by much. Though I'm not exactly open about my opinions they still instinctively know. "Want to have sex?" "Nah, that's alright, but thanks for the compliment. You know how to make a girl feel good.." and I smile...
My current situation isn't exactly fertile grounds for a romance anyway. If it changes and I decide I want to be with someone then good for me! I'll do it! I'll go out looking for someone else with a nearly non-existent sex drive who also likes to sit around watching people just to make snide social commentary. It'll be a match made in... well Heaven wouldn't be the right place would it?
A Note on the Images in this Article
All photos, doodlings, and comics seen in this article were created by the one and only me. The blue creature is Glen the Hookah-Smoking Caterpillar who has been making my friends shoot milk out of their noses for years now. If enough people clap (or comment) favorably on him I'll be forced to make him his very own webpage. Thank you for reading this brief public announcement.
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