Being rejected by a woman is and will always be to me a very difficult thing to deal with in some form or fashion. When I was younger, it felt like swallowing a thousand razor blades down my throat until they hit my stomach scratching and tearing up my insides apart. The pain inside my body would twist and turn as my soul felt like it was getting slammed against a mini jail cell by a more “mature, scared, and control” version of me for not knowing how to act and say the right things to women. It was a lot more brutal, like walking on broken glass bare footed as I tried to walk across a field to talk to women as they watched and seen the pain and stress on my face seconds before I even got within a foot to see them. It was an intense feeling and perception of women I held on to due to seeing and understanding status in High School and teen movies. I was aware, but I used that as my jail cell at the same time while others with my same attraction levels didn’t see shit, but a cute broad that they wanted and went after it. Sometimes being aware can be a gift and a curse.
I remember this one time I tried to talk to a girl in my class that I really liked. I had practiced two nights before the day in a row on what I was going to say. I would replay the perfect scene over and over in my head as I walked around my room in a circle like modern day POP music content. I searched and searched for the perfect outfit combo that would make me seem like my parents weren’t broke, and that my mother wasn’t spending hers and my fathers rent money on the casino and other useless fuckery. My shoes had to be perfect as well despite the fact they been the same shoes I wore for at least half of the year and were dirty white at this point like the cops that recently added another black kid to their hit list. I placed so much effort on just one chick as I wrote down what I was going to say. Looking back now, I cringe heavy at myself.Yet, this chick looked like a mini version of Jessica Alba in her prime like in the movie “Idle hands” so, at the same time I couldn’t blame myself. Hell, I have her added on my Facebook an she looks even better than before. In black man’s terms (Her ass got that upgrade……..Yo). I wanted her number. That was my whole reason for doing this. I just wanted to get her number. It may seem like what I described now that I was trying to get her in my bedroom but no. I just wanted her number and was preparing myself as best as I can to get it. Something so simple that seems easy now but, back then in High School my views and pedestal I placed on women were a lot higher than Courtney Love in her 90’s heyday.
The big day came tho and, everything I planned out came crashing down. Its a lot more easier to watching a NBA game from the sidelines and talk shit about players not doing their shit properly, yet when you get closer and closer to the game you can see how daunting and intimidating it can be to quote Public Enemy’s Chuck D. I remember we were waiting for class to start and I found a moment to talk to her. Nobody was around and I made sure of it. I got up from my seat and seen her leaning up against the door looking as cute and innocent as only she could back then. She was a very pretty girl with long hair, big breasts, and a a smile that could make you as a kid do some dumb shit just to please a woman. I went to her sweating like a black person driving by a local Dunkin Donuts debating on whether they want to get a Watermelon coolattta in front of a bunch of white people. I went to her and started to make small talk about class and the students that were in there. I made a few jokes and tried to smoothly segway into asking for her number but, it came off so creepy and odd. I remember the way I asked for it and it was bizarre and cringe worthy. My tone was dead flat and sounded almost business like, like I was trying to sell her some damn girl scout cookies. Her response was so innocent yet curious in a “Huh?” type of way. She let her number fly out without a care in the world then asked me “Why do you want my number?”. It was simple and harmless yet, its a amazing how women’s oblivious ways can still make you feel two feet small. I just laughed it off and said “No reason. Just because” She shrugged and then classed started. Months later, she was going out with this kid that I knew and they were seen walking down the hall hand and hand. I, of course like a typical butt hurt dude was mad and felt like she was mine even tho I made no effort in trying to get her. She was suppose to just magically get that I liked her without me talking about. Silly slut I thought to myself back then.
The reason I bring up this quick story is because, when I look at the above clip I start to wonder about this particular incident in my life. The girl I talked to had a reaction that was valid and normal. I was merely just a friend to her and nothing more. It was not her fault that I didn’t turn her on and get her attention in a certain way that would have her see me in a new light. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t read my mind and see that I liked her. It is not in a women’s nature to pay attention to men that don’t do anything for them sexually or resource wise. I was just a boy that gave away free attention to her and was happy to just get a smile and giggle out of her some days. She was not to blame. Yet, I wonder if I were to get mad how would that reaction be from her and others around me once she told everybody how crazy I was. What if I said “Why can’t you look at me for ME!. Why do I have to do certain things in order for you to like me HUH!? Why can’t you just want to sit in my room and watch all my wrestling videos and just be happy! Wrestling is cool dammit!”. What if I acted like that not only then, but any time any women rejected me because I wasn’t hitting the right notes to make her noticed me. She would have every right to see me as a weird guy that didn’t let her enjoy the show and make me slowly understand my place with her on the food chain. She would be justified in thinking she might need to call the cops because who knows what would happen these days.
The singer Nicole Scherzinger as you can see above wore a very, VERY reveling outfit and shamed Conan O’brien for staring at her chest. His reaction to me was the best way to proceed in that situation and that is be funny. Any other way of apologizing and shrugging it off would place her in the right and him in the wrong. Hell, these days he may of lost his show if he didn’t response in a humorous manner. She was allowed to get away with the “I am PERSON DAMMIT” just like any other woman can when it comes to this context yet, as I just talked about above before, if a man were to pull that shit, he would be seen as a man that didn’t understand the “don’t talk just do” aspect of the game. A man can never be his full self 100% of the time because at his most comfortable, a woman will no longer see us a person and instead see us as men that are not playing by HERS and society’s rules on what it means to be a good man. The man has to change more than a woman has to. Yes, women have to do certain things as well to get a man, yet during the back half of the relationship a woman can be a cold heartless bitch with free reign and the husband has to accept it. If a man were to be himself and just tried to get some peace playing video games or whatever he truly likes to do, his wife would shame him for being a child instead of acting like a REAL MAN. A woman can shame a man for anything and get away with it. In this context, she shamed him for looking even tho her intention for wearing that outfit WAS to get attention. She just didn’t get the RIGHT attention that she wanted. Yes, Conan is a very successful man and can more than likely afford her, but, in this sense she was looking to be seen as a person and not a sexual object.
The problem with this is, a woman doesn’t understand that the first 5 seconds can be the difference between us wanting to fuck you, and us wanting nothing to do with you. Men see women as sexual objects of desire and that is just the way the cookie crumbles sweetheart. Don’t get mad at a man for looking at you in a sexual way when you wear a certain outfit that pertains to sexual interest for a man. Some men don’t get the strategy that you unconsciously are trying to shoot out in the world because some men still believe in the fairy tale bullshit. They don’t understand that you want attention without dealing with the consequences of your actions. NO, I am not saying women should not be able to dress they way they want. Do as you please ladies and have fun. But at the same time don’t get SHOCKED and APPALLED when a man reacts in a way that shows he wants you in a sexual way when you dress IN A SEXUAL MATTER. It is just how we are hard wired. You as a woman just want the attention done in your way. Yet, if we follow your way 24/7 you will stop being attracted to us. Its a paradox we can’t win if we did it in your way. Its a fucked up game that has lead men to find a new way in dealing with women that actually works. The reason why the red pill philosophy gets treated as “evil” and “diabolical” is because you as a woman can’t control a man in the way you want that will make him a better provider towards the end. But when it comes to just sex and he turns you on you don’t mind how he treats you to a certain extent. If he is hot enough, a woman will do shit that would make a Porn star laugh but nod her head in understanding. Its one big test that a man must see through and pass in order for her to give access to her sexual golden ticket. Nicole Scherzinger again did nothing wrong just like any other women that dress in a provocative way I repeat again. But still, don’t get upset when you get a attention from all men instead of one man that plays your game to perfection. Its in our nature to get excited when we see a great pair of tits and a round ass just just like you get excited by a attractive man that displays dominance and strength. Stop trying to make us play your game. Men and women are not the same. Are bodies show that fact down below. Its just the way it is. Don’t want attention, then dress like a person that doesn’t want attention. Period.