Getting a man to fall in love with you
Before you make your move, you will need to find out what strain he is. Here is a helpful guide to the four basic food groups according to phylum and subgenus.
The New Age Man
The New Age Man with his incense and sarongs and collection of wind chimes is the end result of 75 years of feminism. That’s right. Feminism’s sole achievement has been to make men believe they should be more like women. Just as all the original feminists went on to become men. Most peculiar.
If you want a narcissist to fall in love with you, then you are way beyond any kind of advice I could give you. Your best bet is a Cameroonian faith healer.
The Oedipus Wreck
The first time you meet him, you will be swept away by his suave charm and cutting wit. He will want everything that you want. The house in the suburbs, the double garage, the 2.3 kids. You will think it is a match made in heaven. And it is, right up to the moment you find him writhing naked on the bathroom floor clawing at his eyeballs in a fit of remorse after killing his father and having sex with his mother. Granted, this is the extreme version, but it is advisable to stay well clear of anyone with Greek ancestry.
Pyotr, a Romanian sandal-maker I met on the island of Crete several years ago, had a theory that the reason why so many men are screwed up is because their mothers chose to have a natural birth. He said that boys were never meant to be squeezed from the very aperture that they spend most of their adult lives trying to get back into. Pyotr claimed the only normal men he ever met were all born by caesarean section. Romanians are peculiar people at the best of times so there is a very good chance Pyotr had it all wrong.
Like his namesake in the animal kingdom, the Badger will follow you around making sure you have everything you need. On paper, this sounds like a fine thing. However, the Badger tends to be over-solicitous to a point where you want to find a brick and introduce it repeatedly to the side of his head.
If you think you might be with a Badger but need some sort of conclusive proof, all you have to do is invite him out on a date and get him to pick you up at 8pm. Make sure you open the door in your tracksuit top and a pair of old shorts. Feign surprise at the time and tell him you won’t be a minute. Every five minutes, shout out, “Almost done!” A non-Badger will let you get away with this for an hour. A Badger will start on you within seven minutes. It will start with, “Sweetheart, don’t want to rush you, but I booked for 8.30” and then progress steadily through, “Can I give you a hand?” to “What the hell are you doing in there?” to “Right, that’s it. Find yourself another boyfriend.”
Another area in which Badgers feature prominently is sex. There is nothing that makes a man hound and harass a woman more than the prospect of whipping off her knickers. Badgers frequently lack the sensitivity to tell the difference between, “No, no”, “no, maybe” and “no, yes”. This means that if they think they have a chance of getting you nekkid, they will badger you relentlessly until you threaten them with physical violence or give in. Badgers prefer that you do both simultaneously.
Also known as the Rebel, the Renegade or That Crazy Bastard, the Maverick frequently has an outwardly normal exterior. He might even hold down a decent job like train driver or neuropharmacologist. However, the chances are that when he is alone he can be found flipping the dials and diddling the drugs.
The Maverick has a brain like a computer virus. He enjoys burrowing into political and social systems and eating away at them from the inside. Be careful what you say in front of him. Casually toss a phrase like “conventional wisdom” in his direction and he is likely to snort and say something like. “Ha. Now there are two of the most ill-paired words ever spoken. Wisdom evolves. Convention skulks in the corner and broods. Wisdom turns somersaults and chases sunbeams. Wisdom drives a tank with a stupid little fish sticker on its bumper …” At some point you will want to excuse yourself and go in search of something powerful to drink.
Mavericks can be difficult to understand without some sort of artificial accelerant coursing through your veins. Do not pursue one if your dream lies behind a white picket fence. Or a boundary of any sort, for that matter. Do not even think about trying to change him.
A team of expatriate Filipino research students living on Hawaii’s big island has found that a surprising number of men (98.4%) are afflicted with the Peter Pan Syndrome. Although not contagious, it does seem to be a genetically inherited condition. In layman’s terms, fathers pass it on to their sons who in turn pass it on to their sons and so on until a wife uses a blunt object to end the line.
I once met a woman in the advanced stages of trauma caused by PPS. We were talking about housekeeping, as one does with married women, when she said, “You know, it’s not easy having three boys.” Now, I knew for a fact that she only had two boys. At that very moment both of them were clinging to my legs like baby orangutans, making it impossible for me to get to the fridge for another beer. “What do you mean?” I said. I was about to pry the brats loose with a red-hot braai fork when my friend ran into the room with his underpants on his head making a high-pitched chattering noise pretending to be some kind of superhero. His wife looked at me with dead eyes, leaving me in no doubt as to what she meant. I left quickly, stopping only at the traffic lights to push the children out.
There are many things that act as triggers for this condition. Watch out for:
- Sports shops
- Fire engines
- Hardware stores
- Anything that operates with a remote control
- Car shows
- Stunts (cars and bikes)
Famous Peter Pan personalities include Paul McCartney, Cliff Richard and, of course, Peter Pan himself. It goes without saying that boyish good looks tend to exacerbate the condition. The likes of Charles Bukowski and William Burroughs suffered from many afflictions, but I doubt that PPS was one of them.
Men suffering from PPS are generally harmless and aggravate nobody but their wives and girlfriends. However, it sometimes happens that the condition takes a strange and savage twist and the victim turns into:
This is Peter Pan with a substance abuse problem. Like his more conventional cousin, he also refuses to grow up and act his age. However, what puts him in a league of his own is that, as he gets older, he actually increases his intake of drugs, alcohol, loud music and loose women.
Peter Pandemonium progressively becomes a hazard to himself and all those around him. He leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. But he also has the capacity to make a lot of people happy, almost all of them women. There is a certain kind of woman who falls for his devil-may-care attitude. Driven by a host of solid and liquid chemicals, this silver-tongued pitbull has the ability to talk his way into and out of almost anything. Later in life he begins to think that he is indestructible, having miraculously survived several nasty accidents involving mountain slopes, wild animals and fast-moving cars. Do not attempt to convince him otherwise. Even when his wife packs up the children and flees to another city, it only registers as a blip on his hedonistic screen. Let him grow old disgracefully.
The Bottie Bandit
Homosexual men can be a lot of fun. Apparently. I have no idea if this is true or not. But there are women out there who will defend their gay friends to the death. You could be one of them, for all I know. Fine. That’s your business. But a word of advice. Don’t have them over to your place all at once. Whether you are with a Jock, a New Age Man or a Maverick, the odds are that he is not going to appreciate having his Sunday afternoons shattered by a house full of flouncing queens mixing strawberry daiquiris and regaling everyone with wildly-exaggerated tales of their Saturday night sexual escapades.
Quite a few women are physically attracted to gay men. Straight men find this inexplicable, but when you consider that women always want what they can’t have, it begins to make more sense. Besides, a lot of gay men have the kind of bodies that straight men dream of having. Well, you know what I mean.
What sometimes happens is that a woman will join a gym with the sole intention of firming up her bank balance. She monopolises the Stairmaster because the machine is in the corner of the gym that overlooks the parking lot. From this vantage point, she can see exactly who is driving which car. It’s not long before a black-eyed stranger with ripped abs, slashed pecs and torn jeans steps from his metallic blue Z5 and strides confidently into the gym. Nine hours later she is shrieking and whooping and throwing away the family name in the hope of acquiring his. Nine months later she is weeping and cursing and throwing pieces of fricassee chicken at his head. “Why?” she is wailing. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?” He looks suitably shamefaced, and having half of his dinner stuck to his forehead doesn’t help at all. “I thought I might … I never … I can’t …”. His voice trails off and he walks off to the bedroom to pack his clothes, horribly conscious that his hips are swaying just a little too much.
So, have a Bottie Bandit as a friend, if you must. But, and it doesn’t matter how hunky or how well hung he is, don’t ever marry one. It’s bound to end in tears.
To be continued …