When I was a naive, idealistic lad first sprouting peach fuzz on my gagoots I used to fantasize about the girls I had crushes on. Strolling arm in arm on the beach, naming constellations while lying on the warm summer grass under a starry sky, saving her from a mugger and returning her stolen purse like a hero, kissing her for hours and hours of fully clothed foreplay (wouldn’t want to sully her with sex)… you know, the usual beautiful beta dreaming. In real life, I stared at these girls from across the classroom and doodled their faces in my notebook.
Putting women on a pedestal was my art. And I was good.
Then reality hit me. In the cleansing fires of rejection (and indifference) I learned that women were not pure creatures of light and virtue. I realized instead they were animals, just like men, but operating under a different set of parameters. In my effort to crack the cooch code I watched and mimicked guys who were good with women. I adopted mentors. I experimented. I grew a thick skin.
But before I could stop putting women on a pedestal I had to first kick them off. So I had an asshole phase. I think every man who was not born with his dick in a girl’s mouth needs to go through an asshole phase in order to seduce women in a healthy way. It’s important to experience for oneself what the power of assholery can do to a girl’s attraction buttons — press them like an epileptic on coke and E playing whack-a-mole.
It’s also important to stay in touch with your asshole side in case you ever find yourself slipping into bad beta habits. This way you can play the asshole card when the moment calls for it. Believe me, it’s much more efficient than groveling your way back into her good graces with expensive dinners, flattery, and engagement rings.
Have you ever said “Fuck you” in anger to a girl you were seeing? Have you ever told a girl “Enough of your shit”? Have you ever let a girl argue for 20 minutes then look her in the eye and say “You done?” and walk off? If you haven’t done any of these things you don’t know just how much is possible in your dealings with women.
It’s easy to dismantle the pedestal when you read this:
Scott Peterson, the man who was convicted of murdering his wife and unborn child, had been on Death Row barely an hour when the first proposal arrived from a woman who wants to be the new Mrs. Scott Peterson.
Three dozen phone calls came in to the warden’s office on Peterson’s first day at his new home in San Quentin State Prison — women were pleading for his mailing address, and one smitten 18-year-old said she wanted to marry him.
18 years old. Scott Peterson was twice her age. So much for the theory that chicks get creeped out by older murderers men. Heh.
So think about that the next time you find yourself romanticizing the woman of your dreams. There are women who would take their chances with a sociopathic death row inmate over law-abiding nonmurderous free men they know.