Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Predicted M.O. of this guy I met this past weekend

John thought he was pretty smooth. Not just smooth. But pretty smooth.

John did not have a black book, but a BlackBerry. In it were many names, ranging from A (Ana, the Latina goddess he met at a club) to Z (Zoey, the feisty bohemian he met at a political rally).

When he texted a cutesy message like "Good morning :-)" or "How you doing, cutie?" none of the female recipients had any idea that the message was simply a mass text to a group list entitled "TL," which meant "The Ladies." A flurry of responses came in a row, ranging from the innocuous "G'morning hun ;)" to "Fuck me if I'm wrong, but it's Tuesday, right?"

It was Friday.

He laughed to himself as he scrolled through the TL responses. Of course he got away with it. Girls were so easy to manipulate. They almost want to be lied to, especially by men like him who were tall, blonde and athletic. Inevitably, after week 2, each of the girls would ask the same question: "Are you dating other girls?"

"No," he'd lie with a wry smile. "You're the only girl for me." And he could discern the relief in their voices as they weakly smiled, "Oh, okay."

Women were so stupid. Even the intelligent ones were stupid. John didn't like to mess with the lipsticked ditzes. Those were "SL." "Starter Ladies" for his earlier days in college. As he got older, he needed a challenge. And so after business school, he delved into the yuppie pool of bankers, lawyers, consultants, and the like.

He soon learned that they were strikingly similar to the gorgeous trashy girls he banged in college. All girls had the same insecurities, no matter how many many degrees or titles they had to their name. They all wanted to be told they were beautiful. They all wanted to be special. They all wanted him.

He almost felt sorry for them all, especially after having sex with them ("making love" is what some of these girls called it -- did people still use that phrase?). But not enough to stop. After all, this was pretty fun. And he always got away with it. Always.

Yep, he was pretty smooth. Not just smooth. But pretty smooth.

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