plumpjack rightfully earns this week’s COTW with the following gem,
women fainting. you may have seen it in old movies. plumpjack is here to tell you that it’s real, friends.
last Friday I was with a girl I’ve been seeing for about a month. she’s a good girl, very cute, scots-irish brunette, early thirties, sporty gogrrl (mild version – my type), stage 3 poz, but pimp hand-treatable. definitely buns => oven material, which is what I’m on the hunt for.
as we’ve gotten closer to getting “serious” she started ratcheting up the casual references to past flings. on Friday when she hit the fourth time that day and it was time for some patriarchy/pimp hand application.
we were standing in my kitchen and my vibe went from fun and friendly to deadly serious. I said, “what do you think happens to my attraction to you every time you bring up a guy you fucked?”
she meekly replied, “it goes down”.
I continued, looking severely into her eyes, “that’s right. it goes WAY down. you’d think that if you were lucky enough to have a serious guy interested in you, a guy who has his shit together and can basically have any woman he wants, that you would want to show him that you’re worth investing in. but that’s not what you’re doing. you’re sending me messages that I can’t take you seriously, that you’re a joke. that you’re body is a joke. your life is a big joke. that you’ll give yourself away cheaply, to any guy who wants you. why would I invest in a woman like that? now, I’d like to think you’re a better woman than that, and that I CAN take you seriously, but this shit of you bringing up guys you’ve dated as if it’s something to brag about needs to stop.”
as I’m saying this she starts leaning on the kitchen counters. she’s struggling to hold herself up. I’m noticing this but I plow onward. it was a “shape up or GTFO moment”. so she struggles to stand up for a few more seconds and then she just collapses. out. fucking. cold. I caught her before she hit the floor and dragged her over to the couch. not kidding. (now I know what “dead weight” ACTUALLY means).
so I lay her down on the couch and I’m, like, wtf happened?!? I’ve never seen anyone faint before. I was trying to shake her out of it and was literally ten seconds away from calling 911 when slowly she started to come back. totally fine. wildest shit I’ve ever seen.
she got the message.
funniest thing about this is that this sporty lil girl (who I actually really like) is a rock climber, boot camp instructor, yoga instructor, artist, blah blah blah…. all the “I’m a cool/tough chick!” credentials, and she f’ing fainted the first time a guy ever went full patriarchy on her. blew my mind. how many more are out there begging to be overpowered in this way?
I talked to an older friend about this and he said it was quite common knowledge in the old days that women fainting was a thing and you would still see it in the movies even into the 70s. well, it’s real. and it’s powerful. seriously it’s like some kind of magic spell. you won’t believe it until you see it.
You know what chicks secretly dig? THE FULL PATRIARCHY. No apologies.
(i’ve driven women to tear-streaked hysterics with intimations of abandonment, but the only quasi-fainting thot I’ve had the pleasure to watch crumble in a heap on the floor was the one who came so hard under my meaty duress that her knees buckled and she slid down into the fetal position, which makes a certain amount of conceptional sense as a concentric fetus meme.)
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COTW runner-up winner is Anonymous (capitalized for distinctiveness),
Great story plumpjack. I’ve encountered similar situations in which women deny how they are valued. I was walking home with my ex once and she was talking about the harpies that she works at the office with. Something about how they went to a wedding and none of them went to grab the bride’s flower toss. My ears perked up. I asked her to clarify. “Oh, they don’t want to settle down or get married yet at all.” I replied “They know how old they are, right?” “Yeah, but they still want to get out in the world” “And you listen to them? You’re like that?” “Well…..I mean I’d like to get married but I still want to see the world and… (all I heard was TV static at this point)” I planted my eyes forward on our walk, tilted my head back and increased my pace and swagger *just* a little. “Yeah, I don’t think I could settle down with you yet either. There’s so many different women to try. I want a couple more redheads.” She gave me a look of total shock before matching my pace and trying to grab my hand back (and my attention). I should have detoured into the nearest bar.
Why would The Manipulated Woman exist when we already have The Self-Deluded Woman?
FYI playing into this predilection of women for self-delusion by Agreeing & Amplifying & Co-opting their un-moored nonsense is a fantastically effective Game tactic.