I can’t meet women at bars. I’m just not assertive enough and I don’t really care for the club atmosphere. I can’t find my way through the cloud of bullshit and hormones and say what’s on my mind: “Wanna fuck?”
It just seems so forced and expected.
Nah, my hunting grounds are locations where actual conversations have to take place - coffee shops, grocery stores, and the like. That’s when my primal side comes out and I start to enjoy the thrill of the hunt.
When I spy a girl sitting alone reading a book in the cafe, I start salivating and feel like a cheetah who’s preparing to take down a gazelle - a gazelle with a round ass and really nice perky tits.
But I have a new problem. Her name is Alice.
It’s kind of like that Mitch Hedberg joke:
“I don’t have a girlfriend. I just know a girl that’d get really upset if she heard me say that.”
It’s a different thing for me, this relationship thing. I’m supposed to express my feelings. I’m supposed to say “you’re all I need.”
But it’s all bullshit.
My hormones flare up and instinct takes over every time a nice girl with a slight anterior pelvic tilt walks by.
Bears and lions bury their kills and come back for more meat later when hunger strikes or when they’re done watching the Price is Right.
Me? I do something similar.
The only difference is that my kills come after me. Yep, The Ghosts of Hook-ups Past continue to haunt me. They catch me at vulnerable times - when I’m waiting for my coffee, about to rent a movie, eating a sandwich, washing my hair, standing around not doing anything - and they’re always wearing some new halter top and low-cut jeans.
Last night, this girl I’ve been flirting with for the last few weeks caught me before I headed out the door of the cafe to my girlfriend’s house to watch a movie.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Well, what are you doing tonight?”
“Watching a movie with my family.”
Oh, what an odious half-truth! What a vile lie!
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
Now, you have to understand my girlfriend is hot. She’s sexy. She works out and dresses well. She’s what my friend would call “a lady in the street and the freak in the bed.”
So why is it so damn hard for me to be faithful? Should I even concentrate on being faithful right now?
Those are the kinds of tricks my brain pulls on me.
I can rationalize anything. I always think I’m being philosophical when really I’m just thinking with my penis.
Maybe I should take comedian Joe Rogan’s advice:
“Jerk off first. Then think about it.”
Have I lost my fucking mind?
Psychology Today doesn’t seem to think so.
In their article “Ten Politically Incorrect Truths about Human Nature” authors Alan S. Miller Ph.D., Satoshi Kanazawa Ph.D. have this to say:
[i]"The history of western civilization aside, humans are naturally polygamous…Relative to monogamy, polygyny (one husband, many wives) creates greater fitness variance (the distance between the “winners” and the “losers” in the reproductive game) among males than among females because it allows a few males to monopolize all the females in the group.
The greater fitness variance among males creates greater pressure for men to compete with each other for mates. Only big and tall males can win mating opportunities.
Among pair-bonding species like humans, in which males and females stay together to raise their children, females also prefer to mate with big and tall males because they can provide better physical protection against predators and other males."[/i]
I think us guys here at Testosterone should use this to our advantage. A guy who deadlifts gets more pussy than the guy who doesn’t!
As George Bernard Shaw put it, “The maternal instinct leads a woman to prefer a tenth share in a first-rate man to the exclusive possession of a third-rate one.”
Well, I’m not sure if I’m a “first-rate man”, but I’m still going to tape that quote to my girlfriend’s refrigerator.