Smells Like Man Spirit
I wish I had the luxury of self-confidence that men have.
You know, the kind that comes with living in a patriarchal society where you can behave anyway you want, anytime you want and flaunt a negative aspect of yourself without any blowback.
You can be the biggest crook, or jerk, or aggressive, or narcissistic, or selfish, or a total weenie, or sooooo not fucking funny, and still get away with it because you’re a man (mainly a white man, but any man, really).
Our president is the perfect example of this.
You’re a “bro”, dude! You’re part of that special group of human species where you can get away with practically anything. You can guzzle beer and vape and grow a beard on your face that looks like a mountain goat’s ass and still get a promotion because no one is gonna look down on you. That’s because you’re already above the glass ceiling.
You can have an enormous gut spilling over the top of your pants, and you’ll still think you’re hot shit because society won’t judge you like they would a woman with the same physique.
It’s not self-confidence more than it is hubris, ignorance, and flat out blind to just how privileged men are. Not that I want to have any of those character defects, but still, I like the idea that if I were to have them, I wouldn’t be judged for having them while simultaneously being called a bitch or a cunt.
Being called a whore would be alright though.
Like this guy, who I don’t even really know, asked me out on a date the other day, through social media, which, by the way, is not the way a proper whore wants to be asked out on a date. He has no car (which he posted about on Facebook), but that didn’t give him pause; he still had the hubris to ask me out. Naturally it would imply that I would need to pick him up for our date if I agreed to one, which I would not… ever.
Okay, in all fairness, I was without a car last week and posted about it on Facebook, so he probably saw it and said “Eureka! I found my soul mate!” Or maybe I should say “sole mate” as we’d probably be walking.
Hahahahaha… hahahaha…. aha… aha… ha… ahem, sorry.
Who asks someone out on a date when you have no car and live in the suburbs? How are you supposed to get around, bus? Bicycle? Okay, there’s Uber but then it left me wondering if he would ask me to pay half. The guy works as a barista too. Not a bad occupation if you’re in your twenties. I mean, you can hardly support yourself on that wage, much less be on the dating scene.
I’m not knocking the guy for his lifestyle, but… wait, I am knocking him for his lifestyle, and why shouldn’t I? He asks me out when he doesn’t have any transportation and nothing to show he has more to offer; he doesn’t even know me and is probably making all kinds of assumptions about me based on my Facebook postings, which is what I’m doing with him right now, but never mind that, let me finish my point…
My point is… my point is…
Oh yes, my point is that he assumed a woman would just accept him and his situation without demanding he try harder. He’s a man, he doesn’t have to try harder so why wouldn’t he just put himself out there? No matter how he comes across, society won’t hold him accountable. He’ll probably get a back slap, a high-five, and a “Hey buddy, good job for trying!” from his beer-swilling man friends!
He would be better off focusing on improving his situation before seeking out dates, but men don’t have to think twice about that before hitting on a girl because they’re the cat’s dinner no matter what their situation is… at least, in their own minds.
My reply to him was “I’m going to say no, but thanks.” and then I was irritated that I felt the need to soften my bluntness by adding that “thanks” at the end because I wasn’t even thankful he asked me out! But I didn’t want to be thought of as a bitch or a cunt or a whore because I rejected him.
Have something to offer besides just your bro-ness and the need to get laid, for fuck’s sake. And shave those hideous beards while you’re at it. There’s food stuck in there!