Getting back to my seat was no easy task. Women were all over the place trying to get in and out of the restroom. Meanwhile, the men were standing around with empty glasses in their hands blocking the aisles. They were too cheap to get a refill and too chicken to talk to the women who were walking right past them. After excusing myself a thousand times, I finally made it through. Not surprisingly, Nate was sitting right smack in the middle of two tables full of women. He looked like a kid in a candy store.
“Man, do you see all of these women,” he whispered. “I’ve already got three phone numbers and the night is still young.”
“Congratulations, Playboy,” I said trying to keep my voice down. “Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to need your seat for a minute.”
“So, you pulled one huh Vince? I knew it wouldn’t be long before I rubbed off on ya.”
“Just take your no dancing ass out there on the floor and try not to make a fool of yourself”
“Happy hunting, partner.”
He took one last sip of his drink, and made his way through the thick crowd. Now I was left alone with a group of loud and flashy women on both sides of my table. Wouldn’t you know that out of all the appealing females in the club, I ended up sitting next to the most obnoxious? Sure, a couple of them were attractive, but as it turned out, not very classy. Little did I know The Broadway musical “Women from hell” was about to begin and I was going to be in the starring role.
For the next 30 minutes I looked down at my watch a hundred times wondering what happened to Sharon. I didn’t want to believe she faked me out, but my faith was weakening with the passing of every minute. After waiting restlessly for another 15 minutes, I resigned myself to the fact that she wasn’t coming. My mood changed from exhilaration to aggravation. How could she play me like this? I thought to myself. “If she wasn’t interested she should’ve just said so.” Nate always told me never to get my hopes up too high when dealing with women. “They’ll burn you every time,” he would say. As I sat there with my feelings hurt, I decided to do what most men do, get drunk. All I wanted was a stiff drink and to be left alone. But the women sitting next to me had other plans.
“So, are you waiting for your wife?” one woman inquired.
“No, I’m not married.”
“You must be waiting on your girlfriend, then.”
“Well, I’m not exactly dating anyone seriously right now.”
Why in the world did I have to go and say that? They were all over me like white on rice after that comment.
“Hey girls, he’s single!” she shouted to her mob.
“Well, are you available or what?” another woman asked.
“Yes and no,” I replied.
“Which one is it sweetheart?”
“What I want to know is do he have a job?” her illiterate girlfriend interrupted.
This interrogation was getting to be a pain in the ass. Some men may find all this attention to be flattering, but not me. I’m not attracted to overly aggressive women, especially not ignorant ones. I politely told them I was expecting a friend, hoping it would quiet them down. And for a while, it did. But this was the calm before the storm.
The women who were piling in and out of the ladies room only added to my frustration. They were talking loudly and using harsh language. As I listened in on their conversation, my young mind was disturbed and enlightened. And because they had such big mouths, it was easy to overhear every word.
“Did you see that cheap ass dress that bitch was wearing?” Said one woman whom you never would have expected to speak in that way.
“Yeah girl, and she still had the price tag on it,” her girlfriend laughed. “She’ll be taking that bad boy back for a refund tomorrow.”
Then I overheard another woman schooling her girlfriend on how to take advantage of men.
“Girl, you should have left your wallet in the car”
“And how was I supposed to pay for my drinks without any money?” the girlfriend asked.
“Simple, do what I do. Find a man with some money, show him a little cleavage, stroke his ego, and grind against him on the dance floor. He’ll be buying you drinks all night long.”
“Hmm,” I thought. “So that’s the game huh?” I put that one in my mental Rolodex. Finally, there was a group of intoxicated black and Hispanic women coming out of the ladies room screaming.
“Where are all the real men?”
“Yeah, where are all the real men?” the women at the table next to me joined in.
At first, I bit my tongue hoping the men standing nearby would put them in check, but they were a bunch of wimps. So being frustrated, angry, and the drunk son of a bitch I was at the time, I took it upon myself to single handedly defend the male race.
“Where in the hell are the real women?” I shouted back.
“The real women are right here,” said a black woman wearing a large nose earring who was to be the biggest instigator.
“Real women my ass! One of your girlfriends is rocking a cheap weave, the other one has on fake nails, and your nappy-headed butt is wearing blue contact lenses and big ass bone in your nose. So don’t come up in here yelling about needing a real man. You’ve got to be real to see real.”
The area exploded with laughter. The men were giving high fives and co-signing. Even some of the women applauded me for telling it like it is. As for the rowdy bunch that started the whole mess, well they somehow managed to slither their way to the opposite side of the club. I guess I must have hit a nerve.
Feeling somewhat redeemed, I polished off my drink and grabbed my jacket ready to call it a night. And just as I was about to go after Nate, guess who I see making her way over to my table? That’s right, Sharon. After getting past all the big behinds and jealous looks, she sat her glass on the table and began explaining why she hadn’t come over sooner.
“I wanted to come over earlier, but it was so congested over here I didn’t think there would be any place to sit.”
In my mind, that was bullshit. I should have cursed her out right then and there, but I didn’t. Believe it or not, I was still happy to see her.
“Well, now that you’re finally here,” I said, “let me get right down to the point. Do you have a man?”
“Slow down, can a lady get a drink first?” she began fanning herself. It’s hot as heck in here and I’m thirty as hell.”
Although I thought her drink request was a little inappropriate, I signaled to the waiter to come over.
“What can I get for you?” she asked me.
“I’ll have a crown and cranberry, and the lady is having …”
“Make mine a double shot of Patron Gold,” Sharon blurted.
In my mind I was thinking, Damn! A double! But I played it cool. Besides, she was rocking the hell outta that dress.
“That’ll be twenty eight dollars,” the waitress said while reaching her hand out for my money.
I gave her thirty-five and told her to keep the tip.
“So, where were we?”
“You ask me if I was dating anyone seriously, my answer is, no, not at the moment.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. A beautiful woman like yourself without a man.”
“It’s true. All the men I meet are either married, shacking, or dealing with too many women. I don’t have time for that.” She paused. “But what about you Vinny?”
“It’s Vince.”
“I’m sorry, I meant Vince,” she said while touching me on the arm. “I know the ladies must be knocking down your door.”
“My situation is the same as yours. I keep running into women who are into playing games. They claim to want a good man but what they aren’t bringing anything to the table except drama and expectations. So, lately I’ve just been concentrating on my job and taking care of my daughter. By the way, do you have any children?’
“Ah,” she hesitated. “I don’t like getting into my personal life until I get to know someone better.”
“I thought that’s what we were trying to do.”
I thought her answer was rather vague, but at the time I was more interested in those seven digits than her resume.
“Can you excuse me for a minute, Lance? ” she said while popping up from her seat headed for the restroom.
“My name is Vince,” I shouted at her.
I could understand why she had to go so badly, her breath smelled like a brewery.
While I waited for her to return, I searched for a pen and piece of paper to write my phone number on. That’s when I looked up and saw Nate making his way back over to the table. He was sarcastically applauding and sporting this silly grin on his face. “Now what?” I said to myself.
“Congratulations Vince, I see you managed to get with the biggest skeezer in the club.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“That slut Tina I saw you over here talking to.”
“You must be mistaken, her name is Sharon.”
“Is that what that trick told you? Her name is Tina. And she’s been passed around more that a bottle of barbecue sauce at a picnic.”
“Tina!”
“Yes, Tina, and I’ll bet she ordered the most expensive drink on the menu.”
“How did you know?” I asked curiously.
“That’s her M.O. bro. That’s her way of sizing up a dude’s bank account. That nice suit you’re wearing must have set off her radar.
“What about kids? She avoided that question.”
“No kidding!” he laughed. “That chick has three little heathens all by different daddies.”
“You’re kidding me, right?
“I’m telling you the truth Vince. I met her about three months ago at a club in Plano. She was bragging to a lady friend of mine about how easy it was to get men to buy her drinks. I guess she chose you tonight.”
“But wait a minute. If she wanted to take advantage of me, why didn’t she come over with me after we danced?”
“Because another sucker was already buying her drinks. As a matter of fact, he was buying drinks for her girlfriends too. I guess his money must’ve run out.”
I’ll be damned, no wonder she smells like a tavern.”
“Where is she now?” he asked.
“In the ladies room.”
“Ok, this is what I want to do. Wait until she comes back and see if she asks you to buy her girlfriends a drink. If I’m right, she’ll ask for something expensive. I’ll be standing over on the stairs where I can see you.”
“By the way, what did she order from the bar?”
“A double shot of Patron Gold,” I replied looking like a sucker.
“Ca Ching!” Nate said while trying not to laugh. “Don’t take it too hard bro, everybody plays the fool, sometimes.”
At first, I didn’t want to go along with this game. But the more I thought about all the lies she told, the more appealing it became. So, I settled down and tried my best to look and act normal. Nate didn’t help matters much when he suddenly turned as he was headed for the stairs and asked, “By the way, what was she drinking when she came over?”
I picked up the glass she came over with and examined it.
“It’s water.”
He turned and continued on his way to the stairs barely able to keep from pissing on himself from laughter. All I could do was sit there like a idiot and think about how polite I had been to her, only to find out that I was being set up for drinks and God knows what else.
When Sharon, I mean Tina, returned from the bathroom she was refreshed and wouldn’t you know it thirsty.
“I’m back,” she announced. “Did the waitress make it back with our drinks?”
“I got a drink for you alright, “I thought to myself. Little did she know I was onto her game. I wanted to blow up, but instead I played along with her masquerade to see how far she would go. When I spotted the waitress coming our way, I paused to see if she would order something else.
Once the drinks were sat down, she immediately excused herself saying she had something to give to her girlfriend and that she would be right back. Nate and I watched her make her way through the crowd and over to her friends. Sure enough she sat the drink down on the bar, slapped them five, and headed back my way. The minute she sat down, she went into her act.
“Goddamit, I can’t believe that fool knocked the drink out of my hand.” She said while rubbing her hand on my leg. “I’m sorry, baby, can you get me another one, please!”
I guess she didn’t want to take a chance on mispronouncing my name again, so she decided to call me baby! I was prepared to go along with a little game. I flagged down the waitress again and waited for Tina to order.
“May I take your orders?” she politely asked.
“Yes,” Tina replied. “I would like a Mojito and a shot of grand marnier.”
“And what about you sir?”
“Actually, I’m good. I didn’t spill my drink,” I said sarcastically. “And you can cancel that first order. Give the lady here another of what she’s already having. By the way Tina, that is water isn’t it?”
The poised look on her face quickly changed.
“What did you call me?”
“Tina,” I replied, “Isn’t that your real name, you trifling heifer?”
Nate must have read my lips because when I looked over towards the stairs he was laughing so hard he damn near fell over the railing. Even the waitress was cracking up. Tina jumped out of her seat, gave me a sly grin, and took off without saying a word. But what was there to say? She was busted. After that altercation, I grabbed my jacket, shook hands with Nate, and went home. What a night?
The lessons from that night will stay with me forever. I learned that not only do nice guys finish last, but they also spend more money. I also discovered that women are great impostors. They dress themselves up to look like queens but in reality they’re nothing more than well-dressed pickpockets. And while I realize that not all women are as conniving and ignorant as those women I encountered at the club that night, I am wise enough to know that many of them do exist, too many. Now I can set aside this nonsense about treating them all like queens. That’s such a bullshit term. What woman do you know who actually treats herself with respect but then they have the audacity to demand it from you? From now on my motto is, “Burn them before they burn you.” This may sound cold but I didn’t create this world we live in, I’m only trying to survive in it.
Nice Guys and Churchwomen
Many men can relate to the humiliating experiences associated with dating and the club scene. It is an environment where perpetrating and game playing is the norm. The nice guy is out of place in this setting where perpetrators rule. He would be better off pursuing a meaningful relationship elsewhere. “But where is elsewhere?” The nice guys tell me they get burned no matter where they look. Some say the best place to meet a good woman is in church. But oftentimes women in church are no different from women out of church, if not worse. Not only do you have to deal with the same level of materialism and promiscuity, but you have to tolerate the hypocrisy too. Besides, I haven’t seen a shred of research that proves to me that women in church are classier, more responsible, or more appreciative of a good man. Many of them raise hell all week at the club, drinking, smoking weed, gossiping, and yes, having premarital sex, then go to church speaking in tongues while giving the preacher ten percent of their salaries. Is it all in the name of God, or do they pray and pay to cover up their guilt? The nice guy doesn’t care one way or the other, he simply wants a woman he can share his life with and treat like a lady. But where is she? And how many times does he have to get burned before he decides it’s time to change his game if he wants to stop getting burned. The Bible speaks a lot about heaven and hell. But if you’re a decent man looking a for a quality woman in American today, you’re already living in hell!
Material Girls
For too many nice guys, it’s the same process over and over again. You meet a woman you’re inter
ested in. She insists on going out on several dates to get better acquainted, at his expense of course. And for the next two months he takes her out to dinner, buys her clothes, pays to get her hair and nails done, and helps her move five rooms of heavy furniture across town. And what does he get for his trouble? A well-fed, well-dressed, unappreciative woman living in a well-furnished new apartment. When he suggests getting intimate, she drops the bomb on him, “I just want to be friends.”
After so many of these emasculating experiences, the nice guy begins to see the light. Although he has been raised in a home where women were put on a pedestal, he becomes fed up with these continuous assaults on his manhood and his wallet. At last, his innocent eyes have been opened to the cold world of the material girl. Now he must take a stand and look out for his own interests. Jason can relate to the negative feelings men can develop towards women as a result of their game playing. At 31 years old he’s been trying to keep a positive attitude towards women and relationships. But after so many bad dates and expensive lessons he says the nice guy role is getting old. After years of being used and dogged out, he proclaims, “Nice guys finish last! It’s time for the players to play!” Was he looking for an excuse to play the field, or was he driven to it? I’ll let you be the judge.
Never Satisfied: Do Men Know What They Want? Page 9