My Awakening

Dogs like playing fetch.
Ducks like water.
Michael Jackson likes prepubescant boys
But Women LOVE assholes.

If i've learnt anything during my 23 years on this planet, it's that women are hypnotically drawn to men who are jerks to them and emotionally unavailable.
To better illustrate my presumptuous assertation, I will grace you with a few anecdotes that up until now, were safely locked away in my treasure trove of classified encounters.

As a young boy, I remember I quickly grew a fondness for members of the opposite sex. Although at age 5 I didn't exactly know the science behind copulation, I quickly grew attracted and was drawn to women. This early infatuation with members of the opposite sex led me to hastily inquire what the proper protocols were to 'attract' them and have them pleased with me, subsequently to earn their undivided affection.

"Women love nice guys Julian. Smart, educated, polite men," My father would cheerfully announce. "Be nice to them, compliment them incessantly, pull out chairs, hold open doors, and do nice things for them." He reiterated time and time again.

I remember processing this seemingly 'golden material' as enthusiastically as a young jewish boy would process entire pages of text from his torah. Alas, I held these famous 'precepts of attraction' - doled out to me by my father and society as a whole - close to my heart. I was to be the 'young casonova', a 'champion of romance' and perhaps later on in life the 'curator of the romance museum' where although at first I might have to sweep the floors, I would later move on to grace scores of patrons with tales of my romantic conquests.

Alas, it was not meant to be. For you see, throughout my formative years in Jr. High and High School, I began to notice a pattern emerge.

All the hot chicks were dating assholes, school yard bullies, and pseudo drug pushers who probably had more knifes hidden in their lunchboxes then a 'Sous chef' at a fine dinning establishment along 17th avenue. These 'rogues' who ended up dating the objects of my affection were not destined for great careers, they had rap sheets longer than 50 Cent's tour bus.

I was bewildered. Although I was predominately shy during these formative years, my previous attempts at courting women had me fall flat on my face (so to speak). Doing nice things for beautiful gals and complimenting and being nice to them were no substitution for what I now know attracted them to other men.

Emotion.

These women were intimidated by, felt subjecated by, and were infatuated by these 'bad boys' who exhibited "alpha male behavior'. These 'bad boys' were leaders of men in jr and senior highschool. They exuded confidence and power. This is what fundamentally comes to play in the whole attraction mechanism from women. Women love 'tribal leaders'. Men that can 'protect them'. It is a fundamental evolutionary trait that began since the dawn of man, when a woman would select a mate based on his ability to protect her and her offspring, so that they could live another day and reproduce again. Confidence and power emitted the 'signals' that would mean she would be provided with enough food and a secure shelter, away from the other slugs who might try ravaging her indescriminately had she not had a strong and powerful man by her side.

What suprised me the most was seeing these 'unlikely couples' fighting in the hallways at school, the argument usually culminating with the male punching a wall or locker with his fist and the impressionable young woman running away crying. My eyes would flicker with opportunistic zeal as I would witness this altercation. "This is my chance," I would slyly announce to myself with great Machiavellian fervor. "I will swoop in and show her what a nice guy I am. We can talk about our feelings, maybe grab a milkshake...I'll hold the door open for her, maybe even lavish her with poetry and gifts....HA! I'm Sooooo IN!"

Alas, before I could amass such a spirited plan, the two would usually be back together the next day, kissing and holding hands in the hallway.

Throughout my five years in University, since the pool of rogue drug dealers, bullies and bad boys was severely shortened due in part to the stringent admission requirements, I fared quite better in terms of my romantic prospects.
Still, I noticed that the cocky assholes were walking around the campus with scores of women followers. Or better yet, the smart sophisticated blonde (Woman A) who would be considered a '10' was dating 'chuck the infallable mechanic' (Man B) who in his spare time likes beating up funny looking dudes at the bar and watching UFC on the weekends. The disconnect in terms of Woman A and Man B was enormous. No similar interests shared. Just plain emotional attaction. Like a moth to a flame.

A light bulb turned on in my head.
" What the fuck are you doing? Look what you did. That area is roped off for a reason. Can't you see that area is roped off?!" I harshly yelled at this one woman, who in a semi-sober state, had managed to try to jump the rope seperating the VIP area. In the process, she had broken the screw that had tethered the red fabric rope to the wall.

I was pissed off. I had spent a good 20 minutes trying to make that screw stay in the wall reoccuringly throughout the night.

Frightenely, she stammered out words trying to explain herself, but it was no use. Her emotions were on edge. She was engulfed in the feeling of being reprimended by an authority figure (Bouncer at a Club), who at this point was rather polite to people (atleast I tried to be). She managed to apologize profusely, them embarassingly meandered her way into the large crowd out of site.
It was near closing time and I was shutting down the upstairs section from further traffic. She reappeared, seemingly more sober and more apologetic than the last time we saw eachother.

By that time, I wasnt angry anymore and felt bad about yelling at her. However, I still had my guard up and when she tried to make friendly conversation, I chided her and teased her.

1 hour later I was back at her apartment.

"What just happened?" I wondered aloud to myself as I exited her apartment just as the sun began to rise. I had been a complete jerk to her during our first encounter, then remained stubbornly obnoxious to her during closing time. Yet, what had just culminated back at her apartment was nothing short of spectacular. I reassesed what I had said to her throughout the night for her to become so suddenly enamoured with me. Then it clicked.

I was an asshole to her.

In the weeks ahead, I quickly brushed off my behavior towards her as merely an 'exception to the rule' of proper courtship to win the affections of a young debutante.

However, I had to be sure.

I went into a first date with a young woman who was 4 years younger than me with a cocky, arrogant, obnoxious attitude.
When I met her at the lounge, she appeared nervous and meekly said 'Hi" as her beautiful dark brown eyes meeted mine.

Normally in a situation like this I would nervously make small talk upon our way to the table, swooping in to pull out her chair for her. But I remained steadfast. I acted as if I didnt want to be there. Aloof, indifferent, unnervous, impervious. Basically I made her do all the talking at first while I just listened. When I spoke, my words were slow, calculated, confident as I gazed back at her with a sly smiile, as if I knew something she didnt. She was nervous and I was not and that gave me the upper hand and to a certain extent, power over her. She knew that.
"Why are you acting so fidgety?" I chided her.
"Your having trouble making contact with me, you must be super nervous," I continued. She sheepishly laughed, and in the process of trying to contain her chuckle, the laugh seemed to eminate through her nasal passage.
"Easy there", I deadpanned as I moved my drink closer to me, "I didnt order snot with my Pint".

Date # 2 was more of the same.
This time I told her to be ready at a certain time and told her the place we were going for dinner and the movie we were going to see. There would be no debate or input from her. That would wreak of 'nice guy behavior'. Dinner was more spirited than the drinks we had shared days before.

Everything she said, I disagreed with and criticized and debunked much of what she has to say. She began to ask me about my previous relationships and I jokingly remained elusive to her questions, frustrating and teasing her in the process. As the waitress came around, she was accompanied by a young man who was scribbling down notes as she spoke.
I shot the waitress a confused look.

"Oh, he's in training right now, so actually I am going to let him take down your order for tonight and serve you."

I placed my food order with him and when he proceeded to ask my date what she would like to order, I interrupted him and told him she would like to inquire if they had a 'childrens menu' or any coloring sheets available. Her face turned bright red and quickly refuted ever saying that with yet again, another sheepish laugh. The 'waiter trainee', a little confused and nervous himself took her real order shortly after, but in the process of writing it down, muttered that his pen didn't work. He tried repeating her order so he could bank it in his memory, but failed numerous times.

"This is unacceptable" I interrupted seriously. I looked at him and the waitress that accompanied him and then jokingly said I wanted to speak to their manager.

After dinner we walked through the mall to go to the theatre.
"Oh no" she muttered. "My ex boyfriend is working tonight in that jewelry store right over there" she pointed as she began to start walking in the opposite direction. "Let's just walk over here so he doesn't see me," she frantically suggested.

"No, on the contrary, I think we should go say hi. It would be impolite not to. Besides I want to meet him and see if he can give me a deal on a nipple ring" I deadpanned, as I grabbed her hand and started leading her back into his direction. She guffed and playfully tried getting away, genuinely fearful I was going to force her to see her ex.

At this point she probably thought I was nuts. I would if I was a woman.

The movie was rather boring, but it was after the movie, I had a chance to continue my asshole behavior.

I asked her if she knew what time the bus arrived at the mall. She inquired as to why I would ask her such a question, and I quickly responded that I didn't think I could give her a lift home, because I had 'other things to do'. She became skeptical that I was merely joking, but at the same time genuinely concerned about her prospects of getting home (sans city transit).

Finally, I agreed to drive her home and told her if she was going to get a ride home, she had to suffer and I was going to play some dreary music.
I opened my truck door for her (surprising her) and put in the CD.

One of Andrea Bocelli's greatest tracks boomed through my speaker system.
She was shocked. She loved Andrea Bocelli, and she would have never guessed I would have had his CD.

On the drive home, she nervously tried making small talk, but I just turned up the volume and said "There's no need for small talk, don't be so nervous..just go with it". She was shocked I was say such a thing at first, but then sat back and comfortably enjoyed the sweet eminating sounds of a romantic italian love song.

We pulled up to her house and she thanked me for the night and I am sure wondered if we were going to see eachother again, because up until then, I showed no interest in her what-so-ever.

As she reached for the doorhandle, I stopped her and told her her makeup was smudged. "Really?" she gasped

I pulled her closer and gently pressed her lips against mine, and a passionate kiss ensued. All that pent up nervous energy she had was released upon my lips. Finally I pulled away from her, and gave her a sly look.

"Now your makeup's smudged"

Before I could kick her out of my truck she kept asking "Oh my god, what just happened? I never expected that...umm....oooh dear....oh my, I would have never dreamed you would have tried that...You showed no interest in me at all....Oh my...I dont know about you!"

As she finally entered her house - probably only to run up to her room and write ridiculous love songs on her 5-string guitar - I was growing more and more convinced there is something to be said about 'mistreating women in order to treat them'.

More to Follow (Part III)