OK, so I read another story about the married man, or about the abusive boyfriend, or the local lover-boy on the rebound, or any of a dozen other familiar stories. It leaves me with a peculiar feeling in my stomach. Like a leftover teen angst heartache from four decades ago. So my question is to the ladies.
Why do you love these scumbags? I know, I know, you never knew he was . . . whatever. I don’t believe it. Sorry if that is harsh, but the numbers don’t add up. The only times in my entire life when women obviously flirted with me, with serious intent were when I was married, and when I was an incarcerated psychotic. Now the ladies in the nut house have an excuse, but most of you are out on the loose.
I check it out with my friends. Take Sean. Now you can’t have Sean anymore, cause Sean is married. But he was a twenty five year old, six foot three, red haired, green eyed Irishman, who happened to be gentle, kind, honest, and by the way great with kids. He was also a virgin, who was pretty sure that no woman was ever going to come along for him. He was a bit shy, although not socially inept. Girls ignored him in droves, for years. It broke his heart. Then Sue came along. Sue was six years older, and waaaaay more world-weary. She saw what she had been missing, and snatched him up.
Then there is Larry who is, witty, verbal, and bright. He was so in love with Diane that he moved out of his mom’s house right after High School, and started working two jobs to get a down payment for a house. Diane went off to college, and just about the time Larry has what he thinks is a great new job that will let him buy that house, and marry her, she tells him she needs more adventure, more experience. That turns out to be her new musician boyfriend from college. Two years later she’s back in town, with the rocker’s baby, and a bad drug habit. Larry marries her. The other day, she tells me in confidence that she “really does love Larry, but he doesn’t really excite her.”
I don’t get it. The mythos of our society is that men have the shallow motives in matters of the heart. Men are the ones who are “out for what they can get.” OK, so it is a stereotype. But the stereotype of the abusive drunk kicking the crap out of his girlfriend always does have one thing appears in every single telling of the tale. The scumbag has a girlfriend. And my own observations is that the scumbags always have girlfriends, and often they have three or four. If you treat women like dirt, I am told by the scumbags, they come crawling to you for more. I want to tell them scornfully that that is not true. But I can’t tell them that. They are out on dates.
OK, so everyone has a chance to say, “Well not me.” Fine, not you. But I want to here from her. The one who does hang out with drunks and rock wannabees, and self centered bad boys, and dates married men. Why? Do you like getting the crap beat out of you, or being left for Ms. Next? Are you just stupid? Is the dangerous man so sexy that you want to risk your life for a hot night? What is so attractive about such men?
Tris