The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.
Every so often I will meet a woman who I am impressed with. She is put together, she is clean, she is emotionally stable, and she has a sense of humor. She has books other than foolish fiction on her shelves, she works out, her DVD collection does not include Beerfest, and her vices are within her control. On the surface it appears that she is without a tragic flaw like enriched white bread in her cupboards or Kraft mac and cheese in her pantry. Yet I find that this type of woman is almost always not attracted to me.
There is a great salon.com article about how women form love maps early on in life, that they have a certain type of man they are attracted too. I think the same is true for men to a certain degree.
Apparently smell, money, and birth control have something to do with it. Men always ask me about my size, how long I’ve been working out, etc. I always comment that I feel my size has been more a hindrance than a source of attraction. Whatever it is the women that I like want, I surely don’t have it. People have commented that I should stop indulging the ones that I don’t like; that would be like a lion not eating sleeping gazelles.
To be fair, I suppose I rarely ask any women out, and I hear that merely trying is half the battle. I prefer to see my prey wounded and bleeding before I approach. Further in the article it is indicated that the number of premarital sex partners is a good predictor of infidelity post-marriage.
Which is why I’ve decided to resort to cave age tactics of clubbing and hair dragging.
Kidding. Sort of 😉