Will Rogers once said: "Communism is like Prohibition, it's a good idea but it won't work." Well, from my experience, most relationships are also a lot like Communism. However, rather than luring us into commitment with the promise of the elimination of classes, guaranteed employment and the ability of every member of society to participate in the decision-making process in both the political and economic spheres of life, men seduce us with humor, wealth and chivalry. What starts with the intention of creating a utopian society with no division or alienation often ends in misery and warfare after he gets into your Chip and Pepper skinny jeans, the initial attraction wanes and he transforms into a modern day Stalin. When this happens there is only one thing to do: turn the tables and channel a meaner, craftier sexually cannibalistic Boris Yeltsin.
Seth was a successful 30-year-old Harvard Law graduate who scored in the 97% percentile of the bar exam; he could pretty much bend spoons with his mind. His body puts Adonis to shame. For those of you unfamiliar with my boy Adonis, Greek mythology depicts Adonis as half man and half god who was considered the ultimate in masculine beauty. Adonis' body, according to sixteenth-century perspectives, was representative of the ultimate in male physique. This guy was no joke.
Seth contacted me via my wall on Facebook.
Vanessa! Thanks for the add. I don't know if you remember me... but we met at the law library when I was in town lecturing during your finals several years ago. I wanted to ask you out but you weren't exactly receptive; you were borderline rude if I remember... and I lost my nerve. Anyway, I just moved back from Chicago and started at a firm in MI a few months ago. If you're in a better mood, I would love to meet up with you.
First off, it was during finals. Don't mess with me during finals. I haven't attended 90% of my classes, so I'm in Cram Mode. I can't multi-task, so don't try to divert my attention. Thus, my alleged bitchiness made sense. In addition, finals week is usually like a really good party; I know a lot of shit happened, I just can't remember any of it. Accordingly, having no recollection of our encounter, I conducted the prerequisite cyber-stalking and reviewed my findings with my parents (they’re my best friends!). For the second time ever (he once tried to hook me up with a guy in exchange for a reverse dowry) he told me I would be stupid to refuse a date. If I played my cards right I could possibly be the next First Lady!
Seth and I went on three amazing dates. Now, usually I say it’s funny how the more you get to know a man, the less remarkable he becomes. Not the case with Seth. The first three times we hung out, he was PERFECT. He was perfect to me, perfect to my friends... just kick ass, seabass. However, I'm not a dummy, so I was fully aware that he was on his best behavior. I mean, I try to never judge or fully commit to a man within the first three months (i.e. while he’s on his best behavior).
Sometimes a man’s BB “Best Behavior” wanes after a month, sometimes two, but by three months, 99% of men will reveal their true colors. If by this time, he’s still opening your door, still pulling out your chair, still carrying your luggage up the stairs, still picking up the tab and still telling you you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, he’s a genuine gentleman. Still not certain?
Do what I do. Go out for a fun night on the town, get pretty sloshed with him and then bring on the dirty talk.
Tell him what you’re going to do to him once you get home. Then drink some more. And a few more. Make sure you drink enough so you can’t do any of the things you promised. Instead, pass out.
Pass out and make him carry you up several flights of stairs, like a sack of potatoes, to your bed. Wait until the morning. If he’s at your bedside with some Gatorade Glacial Freeze, you know he’s a keeper. If he throws you attitude, you know all of that doting over you bullshit was just that: bullshit.
Well, I didn't need 3 months or a night of heavy drinking on my part to conclude Seth was an idiotic, womanizing drunkard. I only needed a 4th date.
After having spent an awesome night of dancing and just hanging out with Seth, my best friend Julie and Seth’s friend Brian, I happily accepted his invitation to a house party. We were still in the early stages, so I went all out on the hair, make-up and attire. In other words, I put in a fuckload of effort. 2 hours of primping minimum. Being married and having not been to a house party since college, Julie did the same. After the beautification process, we jumped in the car and headed out on a twisting and turning 40 minute car ride through Deliverance-style back country to the middle of butt fuck Egypt. Awesome drive.
We arrived around 9 PM. Seth and his friend spotted us, did the mini wave and then disappeared. Now, maybe my expectations are too high, but I expect to be greeted, not ignored. Julie and I walked into the party and found Seth harassing a redhead in the corner. Ok, so now not only was I being ignored, I was being disrespected. Unfortunately, under his Ivy League education, perfect abs and outgoing personality, Seth was just another “Stalin.”
Rather than freak out (which you all know I'm capable of doing), I decided to find my center, take a little breather and return to the car to put my purse away (the crowd was a tad bit sketchy). On the way back to the car Seth spotted us again and came stumbling over. Lit like a Christmas tree, he fell all over me and tried to kiss me.
“Get off of me,” I warned.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked. “You are. You're mad at me.”
“Just do not kiss me right now.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Animals get mad. Humans get angry. I am not mad.”
“OOO So you're angry.” Like I said, he's razor sharp and can even pick up on sarcasm after his 22nd beer.
“No, I'm not angry. I'm slightly annoyed,” I informed him.
Realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere with me, he turned to Julie. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, Seth, I am not mad at you,” she said politely.
Seth must have believed her, because he was so thankful Julie (who is MARRIED) was not upset, he grabbed her face and kissed her fully on the mouth not once, not twice, but FOUR times.
Equally shocked and horrified, Julie tried to push away from him.
“Ok, you girls go back to the car, put your stuff away and then come back to Daddy!!” he slurred.
As Julie tried to scurry away, Seth wound up like US Olympic softball pitcher Lisa Fernandez and smacked her right on the ass. I think he might have even said: “Yee-Haw.”
We jumped into the car and drove off.
Seth called the next day to grovel. He gave me the whole “I've never met anyone like you before.... blah, blah, blah, I'm sorry I'm an ass. You’ve seen me at my worst... I promise I'll treat you like you deserve to be treated... I blacked everything out... I have to see you right now... You're everything I'm looking for and I think we have long-term potential” 15 minute soliloquy. Specifically, the conversation went like this:
“I have to drive out there and see you today.”
“I live with my parents. You aren't exactly Meet the Parents material.”
“Ok, we'll just meet up for ummm.... a bottle of water?”
“You want to start negotiations with a bottle of water? You're going to have to do better than that, pal,” I informed him.
“What's Julie’s number? I will call and apologize.”
“HA... I bet, if apologizing consists of fondling her! I really don't want to see you. It's just not going to happen.”
“Ok, tomorrow is my birthday. I want to spend my birthday with you. I will take you out and make it up to you. Please see me tomorrow.”
“Umm... yeah, I don't know how rewarding you for negative behavior is a form of retribution. Call me later, I really don't feel like discussing this right now.” Click.
Like most girls, I want my storybook ending. However, Prince Charming must be more acceptable as a mate than a meal. If not, I take great pleasure in devouring the insecure, offensive man who lacks the self-respect and ability to challenge me emotionally, morally and intellectually. I suppose some men just make better appetizers than boyfriends. However, unlike the sexually cannibalistic praying mantis, I do not instantly devour my victim pre or post-coitus. Rather, first I prefer to punish him and see how much I can get away with.
I called Seth the following afternoon and agreed to let him take me out again. We arranged to meet up at LIVE, a trendy bar in Ann Arbor the upcoming Saturday.
All was well until Seth mysteriously vanished. Sans a babysitter, I did what I usually do when setting out to exact revenge, pumped full of booze and left to my own devices: I started a bar fight. Actually, some dickhead started a bar fight by grabbing my ass (and no, it was not my date). I just finished it. My knight in shinning armor, the owner of Bivouac (Dan I think???), a local clothing store, came to my rescue. This provided the perfect platform for me to commence my sexual cannibalism. After he helped me beat some ass (ok, we just yelled, no beating occurred), he asked for my number.
“Umm… 555-555-5555. But I can’t really talk right now; I’m on a date.” Then I spotted Seth out of the corner of my eye and decided to be a little more accommodating to Dan. I grabbed a napkin and wrote my phone number down. All for Seth to see.
Dan gave me a perplexed frown but stored my number in his pocket anyway. When he looked up I was gone. Call me David Fucking Copperfield.
“Where were you?” I asked Seth with a demure smile.
He made an inaudible grunt, shrugged his shoulders and looked back in Dan’s direction. Perfect! Seth definitely witnessed my little exchange with Dan. Unfortunately for him, like I predicted, Seth chose to ignore my indiscretion rather than confront me, which was like throwing butane on the fire. He wasn’t used to retaliatory tactics and did not possess the ammunition to deal with me.
For the rest of the night Seth was on me like white on rice, which prevented me from giving my number out or flirting with anyone else. Rather than quit and try to have fun, I zipped off a few innocent text messages to friends requesting a late-night phone call.
Scott pulled through and my phone rang on the way home from the bar, while I sat shotgun in Seth’s car. There was no way Seth could ignore me conversing with another guy at 2:30 AM while seated next to me. Although the caller was a college friend with whom I’ve never gone out with romantically, I answered flirtatiously.
“Is that a booty call?” Seth whispered.
I pretended Seth wasn’t in the car. “What am I doing? Oh, I’m just hanging out with my friend Seth right now.”
“You’re kind of on a date. Why don’t you tell him you are sort of on a date?” Seth sneered.
“Well, yeah, I’ll just talk to you later. We’ll set something up tomorrow!”
“Who was that?” Seth demanded.
“Just a Match.com guy,” I chirped.
We rode home in silence.
Again, he was not a Match.com guy. He was a friend I used as a tool of manipulation. Any man who kisses my friend, smacks her on the ass and screams “Come back to daddy!” in front of me deserves to be put in his place; I planned on making the Ten Plagues of Egypt look like a blip on the Doppler radar compared to Seth’s Doomsday.
Males of sexually cannibalistic species use diverse strategies to decrease their chances of being cannibalized. Male scorpions sometimes sting females while depositing their spermatophore. Male black widows and crab spiders often restrain females in silk prior to copulation. Some male spiders, particularly nursery web spiders, bring the female a diversionary meal and attempt to complete copulation before the female completes the offering. Although he would have probably been better off by employing silk in some way, Seth was employed the ladder of these survival techniques.
“Why don’t you stay in the guest room and we’ll get breakfast and then go shopping in the morning?” he asked. Like other self-loathing, pitiful guys before him, he was letting me get away with murder: the murder of any potential relationship and the murder of his self-respect by offering to take me shopping as a “diversionary meal.” If a man is going to bribe you with material possessions and food after he committed a major relationship fau paux, let him. And breakfast does not cut it! The old adage is: “Treat a lady like a lady and a whore like a whore but never confuse the two.” My updated, wicked adage is: “Treat a gentleman like a gentleman and an asshole like meal.”
“That sounds wonderful… but you don’t actually expect me to sleep in the guest room, do you?”
He smiled. “Well, I was going to suggest you sleep in my room, but you’ve had quite the attitude since the house party… so I didn’t think you would even consider it.”
“Ok, perfect. I knew there was a gentleman somewhere in that vodka guzzling, best friend kissing asshole! I’ll take your bed and you take the guest room. Thank you! Night, night!” I blew him a kiss and skipped off to the master suite. Alone.
Seth was vaguely distant in the morning, but took me to brunch, shopping and dinner as promised. That night I kissed him on the cheek, hugged him and bid him adieu for the last time.
At this point I never apologize. I never feel remorse. I just feel annoyed, slightly bored and very fashionable in my new clothes and shoes!
When Seth tried calling later in the week, so I sent him to voicemail and emailed him photos of me modeling my new Louis Vuitton mules and Bebe dress.
Communism commenced as a concept of a world of communal bliss and harmony but developed into a giant totalitarian state that dominated every aspect of life and denied the ideal of individual liberty. Similarly, sometimes a masculine ideal, or paper-perfect man turns out to be a raging dickhead. Initially, I thought Seth was Mr. Perfect, but he ended up getting lit like the Dyker Heights Christmas lights and kissed and fondled my married best friend. So while a 12 pack stomach, wealth and chivalry can make you lust like the Bacchanalias of the Ancient Roman Bacchantes, keep you dressed in designer couture and prevent you from pulling a muscle under the strain of a heavy door, looks fade, people get laid-off and everyone’s biceps could benefit from some toning. In dating, I believe sexual cannibalism is by-product of natural selection for charm and respectability, so although there are times to forgive and forget, there are also times when to remember and retaliate. Accordingly, if a man doesn’t possess the capacity to be your best friend, make you feel beautiful in sweatpants and can’t refrain from drinking that 9th vodka tonic, dump him. If he kisses your best friend and refers to himself as “daddy,” devour him.
Seth was a successful 30-year-old Harvard Law graduate who scored in the 97% percentile of the bar exam; he could pretty much bend spoons with his mind. His body puts Adonis to shame. For those of you unfamiliar with my boy Adonis, Greek mythology depicts Adonis as half man and half god who was considered the ultimate in masculine beauty. Adonis' body, according to sixteenth-century perspectives, was representative of the ultimate in male physique. This guy was no joke.
Seth contacted me via my wall on Facebook.
Vanessa! Thanks for the add. I don't know if you remember me... but we met at the law library when I was in town lecturing during your finals several years ago. I wanted to ask you out but you weren't exactly receptive; you were borderline rude if I remember... and I lost my nerve. Anyway, I just moved back from Chicago and started at a firm in MI a few months ago. If you're in a better mood, I would love to meet up with you.
First off, it was during finals. Don't mess with me during finals. I haven't attended 90% of my classes, so I'm in Cram Mode. I can't multi-task, so don't try to divert my attention. Thus, my alleged bitchiness made sense. In addition, finals week is usually like a really good party; I know a lot of shit happened, I just can't remember any of it. Accordingly, having no recollection of our encounter, I conducted the prerequisite cyber-stalking and reviewed my findings with my parents (they’re my best friends!). For the second time ever (he once tried to hook me up with a guy in exchange for a reverse dowry) he told me I would be stupid to refuse a date. If I played my cards right I could possibly be the next First Lady!
Seth and I went on three amazing dates. Now, usually I say it’s funny how the more you get to know a man, the less remarkable he becomes. Not the case with Seth. The first three times we hung out, he was PERFECT. He was perfect to me, perfect to my friends... just kick ass, seabass. However, I'm not a dummy, so I was fully aware that he was on his best behavior. I mean, I try to never judge or fully commit to a man within the first three months (i.e. while he’s on his best behavior).
Sometimes a man’s BB “Best Behavior” wanes after a month, sometimes two, but by three months, 99% of men will reveal their true colors. If by this time, he’s still opening your door, still pulling out your chair, still carrying your luggage up the stairs, still picking up the tab and still telling you you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, he’s a genuine gentleman. Still not certain?
Do what I do. Go out for a fun night on the town, get pretty sloshed with him and then bring on the dirty talk.
Tell him what you’re going to do to him once you get home. Then drink some more. And a few more. Make sure you drink enough so you can’t do any of the things you promised. Instead, pass out.
Pass out and make him carry you up several flights of stairs, like a sack of potatoes, to your bed. Wait until the morning. If he’s at your bedside with some Gatorade Glacial Freeze, you know he’s a keeper. If he throws you attitude, you know all of that doting over you bullshit was just that: bullshit.
Well, I didn't need 3 months or a night of heavy drinking on my part to conclude Seth was an idiotic, womanizing drunkard. I only needed a 4th date.
After having spent an awesome night of dancing and just hanging out with Seth, my best friend Julie and Seth’s friend Brian, I happily accepted his invitation to a house party. We were still in the early stages, so I went all out on the hair, make-up and attire. In other words, I put in a fuckload of effort. 2 hours of primping minimum. Being married and having not been to a house party since college, Julie did the same. After the beautification process, we jumped in the car and headed out on a twisting and turning 40 minute car ride through Deliverance-style back country to the middle of butt fuck Egypt. Awesome drive.
We arrived around 9 PM. Seth and his friend spotted us, did the mini wave and then disappeared. Now, maybe my expectations are too high, but I expect to be greeted, not ignored. Julie and I walked into the party and found Seth harassing a redhead in the corner. Ok, so now not only was I being ignored, I was being disrespected. Unfortunately, under his Ivy League education, perfect abs and outgoing personality, Seth was just another “Stalin.”
Rather than freak out (which you all know I'm capable of doing), I decided to find my center, take a little breather and return to the car to put my purse away (the crowd was a tad bit sketchy). On the way back to the car Seth spotted us again and came stumbling over. Lit like a Christmas tree, he fell all over me and tried to kiss me.
“Get off of me,” I warned.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked. “You are. You're mad at me.”
“Just do not kiss me right now.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Animals get mad. Humans get angry. I am not mad.”
“OOO So you're angry.” Like I said, he's razor sharp and can even pick up on sarcasm after his 22nd beer.
“No, I'm not angry. I'm slightly annoyed,” I informed him.
Realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere with me, he turned to Julie. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, Seth, I am not mad at you,” she said politely.
Seth must have believed her, because he was so thankful Julie (who is MARRIED) was not upset, he grabbed her face and kissed her fully on the mouth not once, not twice, but FOUR times.
Equally shocked and horrified, Julie tried to push away from him.
“Ok, you girls go back to the car, put your stuff away and then come back to Daddy!!” he slurred.
As Julie tried to scurry away, Seth wound up like US Olympic softball pitcher Lisa Fernandez and smacked her right on the ass. I think he might have even said: “Yee-Haw.”
We jumped into the car and drove off.
Seth called the next day to grovel. He gave me the whole “I've never met anyone like you before.... blah, blah, blah, I'm sorry I'm an ass. You’ve seen me at my worst... I promise I'll treat you like you deserve to be treated... I blacked everything out... I have to see you right now... You're everything I'm looking for and I think we have long-term potential” 15 minute soliloquy. Specifically, the conversation went like this:
“I have to drive out there and see you today.”
“I live with my parents. You aren't exactly Meet the Parents material.”
“Ok, we'll just meet up for ummm.... a bottle of water?”
“You want to start negotiations with a bottle of water? You're going to have to do better than that, pal,” I informed him.
“What's Julie’s number? I will call and apologize.”
“HA... I bet, if apologizing consists of fondling her! I really don't want to see you. It's just not going to happen.”
“Ok, tomorrow is my birthday. I want to spend my birthday with you. I will take you out and make it up to you. Please see me tomorrow.”
“Umm... yeah, I don't know how rewarding you for negative behavior is a form of retribution. Call me later, I really don't feel like discussing this right now.” Click.
Like most girls, I want my storybook ending. However, Prince Charming must be more acceptable as a mate than a meal. If not, I take great pleasure in devouring the insecure, offensive man who lacks the self-respect and ability to challenge me emotionally, morally and intellectually. I suppose some men just make better appetizers than boyfriends. However, unlike the sexually cannibalistic praying mantis, I do not instantly devour my victim pre or post-coitus. Rather, first I prefer to punish him and see how much I can get away with.
I called Seth the following afternoon and agreed to let him take me out again. We arranged to meet up at LIVE, a trendy bar in Ann Arbor the upcoming Saturday.
All was well until Seth mysteriously vanished. Sans a babysitter, I did what I usually do when setting out to exact revenge, pumped full of booze and left to my own devices: I started a bar fight. Actually, some dickhead started a bar fight by grabbing my ass (and no, it was not my date). I just finished it. My knight in shinning armor, the owner of Bivouac (Dan I think???), a local clothing store, came to my rescue. This provided the perfect platform for me to commence my sexual cannibalism. After he helped me beat some ass (ok, we just yelled, no beating occurred), he asked for my number.
“Umm… 555-555-5555. But I can’t really talk right now; I’m on a date.” Then I spotted Seth out of the corner of my eye and decided to be a little more accommodating to Dan. I grabbed a napkin and wrote my phone number down. All for Seth to see.
Dan gave me a perplexed frown but stored my number in his pocket anyway. When he looked up I was gone. Call me David Fucking Copperfield.
“Where were you?” I asked Seth with a demure smile.
He made an inaudible grunt, shrugged his shoulders and looked back in Dan’s direction. Perfect! Seth definitely witnessed my little exchange with Dan. Unfortunately for him, like I predicted, Seth chose to ignore my indiscretion rather than confront me, which was like throwing butane on the fire. He wasn’t used to retaliatory tactics and did not possess the ammunition to deal with me.
For the rest of the night Seth was on me like white on rice, which prevented me from giving my number out or flirting with anyone else. Rather than quit and try to have fun, I zipped off a few innocent text messages to friends requesting a late-night phone call.
Scott pulled through and my phone rang on the way home from the bar, while I sat shotgun in Seth’s car. There was no way Seth could ignore me conversing with another guy at 2:30 AM while seated next to me. Although the caller was a college friend with whom I’ve never gone out with romantically, I answered flirtatiously.
“Is that a booty call?” Seth whispered.
I pretended Seth wasn’t in the car. “What am I doing? Oh, I’m just hanging out with my friend Seth right now.”
“You’re kind of on a date. Why don’t you tell him you are sort of on a date?” Seth sneered.
“Well, yeah, I’ll just talk to you later. We’ll set something up tomorrow!”
“Who was that?” Seth demanded.
“Just a Match.com guy,” I chirped.
We rode home in silence.
Again, he was not a Match.com guy. He was a friend I used as a tool of manipulation. Any man who kisses my friend, smacks her on the ass and screams “Come back to daddy!” in front of me deserves to be put in his place; I planned on making the Ten Plagues of Egypt look like a blip on the Doppler radar compared to Seth’s Doomsday.
Males of sexually cannibalistic species use diverse strategies to decrease their chances of being cannibalized. Male scorpions sometimes sting females while depositing their spermatophore. Male black widows and crab spiders often restrain females in silk prior to copulation. Some male spiders, particularly nursery web spiders, bring the female a diversionary meal and attempt to complete copulation before the female completes the offering. Although he would have probably been better off by employing silk in some way, Seth was employed the ladder of these survival techniques.
“Why don’t you stay in the guest room and we’ll get breakfast and then go shopping in the morning?” he asked. Like other self-loathing, pitiful guys before him, he was letting me get away with murder: the murder of any potential relationship and the murder of his self-respect by offering to take me shopping as a “diversionary meal.” If a man is going to bribe you with material possessions and food after he committed a major relationship fau paux, let him. And breakfast does not cut it! The old adage is: “Treat a lady like a lady and a whore like a whore but never confuse the two.” My updated, wicked adage is: “Treat a gentleman like a gentleman and an asshole like meal.”
“That sounds wonderful… but you don’t actually expect me to sleep in the guest room, do you?”
He smiled. “Well, I was going to suggest you sleep in my room, but you’ve had quite the attitude since the house party… so I didn’t think you would even consider it.”
“Ok, perfect. I knew there was a gentleman somewhere in that vodka guzzling, best friend kissing asshole! I’ll take your bed and you take the guest room. Thank you! Night, night!” I blew him a kiss and skipped off to the master suite. Alone.
Seth was vaguely distant in the morning, but took me to brunch, shopping and dinner as promised. That night I kissed him on the cheek, hugged him and bid him adieu for the last time.
At this point I never apologize. I never feel remorse. I just feel annoyed, slightly bored and very fashionable in my new clothes and shoes!
When Seth tried calling later in the week, so I sent him to voicemail and emailed him photos of me modeling my new Louis Vuitton mules and Bebe dress.
Communism commenced as a concept of a world of communal bliss and harmony but developed into a giant totalitarian state that dominated every aspect of life and denied the ideal of individual liberty. Similarly, sometimes a masculine ideal, or paper-perfect man turns out to be a raging dickhead. Initially, I thought Seth was Mr. Perfect, but he ended up getting lit like the Dyker Heights Christmas lights and kissed and fondled my married best friend. So while a 12 pack stomach, wealth and chivalry can make you lust like the Bacchanalias of the Ancient Roman Bacchantes, keep you dressed in designer couture and prevent you from pulling a muscle under the strain of a heavy door, looks fade, people get laid-off and everyone’s biceps could benefit from some toning. In dating, I believe sexual cannibalism is by-product of natural selection for charm and respectability, so although there are times to forgive and forget, there are also times when to remember and retaliate. Accordingly, if a man doesn’t possess the capacity to be your best friend, make you feel beautiful in sweatpants and can’t refrain from drinking that 9th vodka tonic, dump him. If he kisses your best friend and refers to himself as “daddy,” devour him.
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