Fooling Golddiggers

Men universally overestimate the importance of money to attracting women. This is probably so because the relatively chaotic, amorphous nature of psychological game is harder for men to comprehend than is a hard objective metric like money. It’s much simpler to say to a man: “First you make the money, then you get the power. Then when you get the power, you get the women.”

The problem with this plan of action is that, one, it’s highly inefficient, and, two, most women — and this includes hot women — aren’t aroused by a man with money nearly as much as men think they are. Women are attracted to an alpha attitude — AKA game — which can be correlated with money. But money is not a necessary condition for embodying the alpha attitude. There are easier ways to attract women for sexual congress and loving LTRs than slaving for years in a corporate gig saving every penny to afford a monster mortgage or risking prison in the drug trade.

Furthermore, there is this misperception out there that money automatically equates to power, which is something that girls do indeed find very arousing in a man. But we all know souped-up IT and finance nerds making well into the six figures who struggle with their dating lives. Power is more a state of mind, or a will to attitude, than a blessing that flows from big bucks. The shiftless badboy with the motorcycle and smirk has more power over women’s hearts than the well-paid CFO who sucks up to women by throwing free meals and unearned gifts at them.

Naturally, all else equal, having money will help your pickup more than not having money. But the “all else equal” is the key qualifier. If you are looking to get more bangs for your buck, so to speak, working longer harder hours to amass bank is not the way to do it. When you realize that most women worth fucking don’t care all that much about how much money you make, you understand that the road to gratification leads away from the path laid down by conventional wisdom.

As long as you make a decent living (i.e. don’t live in a cardboard box), have a car (unless you reside in the heart of a major urban center or lead a traveling lifestyle), have some stylish threads, and keep a clean, cared-for home, the money factor evaporates for all but the most die-hard golddiggers. Remember, a man’s ambition is one of the traits women love. Whatever financial reward he has earned from his ambitious undertakings is almost irrelevant, like icing on the cake.

Maxim #49: Waving a roll of benjamins at a woman will not give her tingles. In fact, it will often do the opposite.

But this post is about that small minority of femme fatales who are dedicated golddiggers. They exist, especially in feverishly status conscious enclaves, and it’s in your interest as a man to smoke them out early and take advantage of them before they have a chance to take advantage of you. Once you get good at fooling golddiggers, you can corral them into loving relationships with you that monopolize many of their prime years, leaving them splintery husks on the downslope hustling pasty-faced betas with nothing but credit card game, while memories of you haunt their dreams.

None of the below tips are an acceptable substitute for tight game, but they will add to your aura of mystery and captivate golddiggers on the make for a sugar daddy.

• The ATM receipt ruse.

There are services that will print up authentic looking ATM receipts with large dollar amounts. Leave a crumpled one lying around your place. She will notice it. (All women notice the smallest details of the men they date. It’s encoded in their DNA.)

• Ditch the car for a boat.

If you live in a place where it is acceptable to be car-less, you can substitute with a boat docked at the nearest marina. Sailboats earn doubleplusbonus points, and are often cheaper than new cars. Since cars are de rigueur among all classes, they don’t stand out anymore as markers of taste, unless you go luxury. But a cheap boat will open the golddigger’s cash register heart.

• Fake Ivy League diplomas.

There are places where you can get these. Hang prominently on your wall. Ivy degrees and money are practically synonymous in the whore’s mind.

• The expensive suit ruse.

If you are going to spend money, spend it on a couple of expensive suits. Clothing style is a relatively cheap way to signal wealth, and will often fool golddiggers into bed with you for at least a few months.

• Housing amenities.

Can’t afford that 2,000 square foot apartment in SoHo? No worries. Get a smaller place, but make sure it has one or two stand-out amenities, like a Sub-Zero fridge or exquisite molding along the ceiling.

• The cubic zirconia ruse.

Buy a pair of cubic zirconia earrings. Leave them somewhere in your bedroom where a golddigger will see them. When she asks, explain that you gave those diamonds to a former lover (“former lover” always sounds better than “ex”) who returned them to you when you broke up, because she couldn’t bear to wear them anymore. Women, despite their insistence, really cannot tell the difference between a real diamond and CZ, especially in your dimly lit, Quagmire-esque bedroom. This ruse is particularly effective because it pushes three buttons — the money button, the preselection button, and the “ambiguously available man” button.

• The signed work of art ruse.

Buy a cheapo print, say of a Miro, and sign his name on the bottom in his signature style. Tell her you collect original works of art, and Miro is one of your favorites.

• Always pay with hundreds.

This is kind of cheesy, but golddiggers are a cheesy lot, so they deserve it. Great for getting her to buy things for you. “Hey babe, I only have a hundred. Could you spring for me on that pack of gum?” As all Chateau guests should know by now, getting women to buy you things alters their perception of you to a higher value man, because they certainly wouldn’t buy things for a lower value man.

• Keep a safe in your place.

Who knows what’s in that safe? Jewelry? Bonds? Cash? Guns? Back copies of Playboy? Her pussy squirms with the possibilities.

• Learn how to decorate.

You don’t have to spend an arm and a leg to properly decorate your pad. Why should a decent decorating job impress golddiggers so much? Because most men have no idea how, nor any inclination, to feng shui the shit out of their homes. When you do, you set yourself apart from the bachelor masses.

• The vacation home ruse.

Put a framed photograph of your “country estate” or “beach house” on the wall. She doesn’t have to know it’s just a random photo you took of someone else’s house.

• The stock market player ruse.

Always keep a stock market display on your monitor. She’ll think you are a big money risk taker.

• The overseas business trip ruse.

Every couple of months, tell your newfound golddigger lover that you will be away for two weeks on an “international business trip” which you can’t talk about in detail. This serves the dual purpose of stoking her curiosity and giving you a break to pursue other girls for fun and profit.

PS: I don’t do any of the above things, because I’ve had no need to (unless I’m doing it for my own amusement). I’ve had no trouble meeting attractive girls who weren’t blatant whores pimping for financial support. The few times I’ve dealt with genuine golddiggers, I had some fun with their expectations, and they — I’m sure to their surprise — loved having the tables turned on them.

Update:

“Silver Fox” comments:

Grifter bags 2500 Women

I can attest to this; I bagged 6 models in 2001, when i was an unemployed i-banker for 18 mos. Meanwhile as a multi 6 figure employed banker I avgeraged 1/yr.

Just said “I am a consultant”…followed with silence and direct eye contact/

Avg women cant tell if you work in mailroom or boardroom at Goldman Sachs.

Silver Fox is right on two counts. It’s often the grifters with game who score more pussy than the workaholic ballers. And women really can’t know exactly what you do in the office. Unless she shows up at the front door of your building demanding entrance, you can keep her in the dark about your “boardroom” job for years. Women are extremely gullible on these matters because they *want* to believe you are the king of the world you slyly hint that you are.

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Trumped-up Charges

Women love to bitch and moan about their men. It’s in their blood. But it matters not, most of the time. As long as you smite her heart with your heraldic war pike of forged steel alphaness, her bitching and moaning will waft into the ether, having no influence whatsoever on her desire to cling to you. In fact, bitching and moaning is often a sign that the woman is deeply in love, for such a powerfully debilitating emotion ushers forth a fusillade of half-hearted complaints as a grounding mechanism to steady her so that she can make at least semi-cogent rationalizations why she can’t get enough of your assholery.

There is, however, a time and context when the complaints carry more weight. This is usually right near the end of a relationship, when she has already checked out and is now trying to wriggle free without confronting the real reasons why she feels no tingle. You will know this is happening because complaints you rarely heard before suddenly come out of nowhere, and with increasing frequency. Her bitching, too, will take on a serious cast, and the playfulness with which she needled you before will be gone, replaced by a somber recounting of grievous faults. You will almost picture her wearing a green eyeshade as she ticks off your bothersome habits that, for reasons unclear to your formulaically analytical male mind, she finds irredeemably annoying what once she thought charming, and evidence that you are unsalvageable as a boyfriend.

“You’re late all the time.”

“I hate they way you kiss with the side of your lips.”

“You never got me anything nice.” (You’ll notice girls using an out-of-place past tense when you have been mentally demoted to ex-lover.)

We here at the Chateau know the reason why she has morphed into a human resources department assistant manager: you lost your alpha mojo. Her complaints, more often than not utterly baseless trumped-up charges, are simply mediums through which she contextualizes your emerging betatude. She cannot fathom the subtleties of character deficiency and behavioral emasculation that turn her off, but she can wrap her frazzled hamster around the one time you were ten minutes late picking her up from the train station. And since a woman’s memory for trivial details rivals a quad core CPU, you can expect that she will remember retroactive annoyances from five years ago that today serve as convenient nitpick fodder to justify the torrent of hypergamous preprogramming that propels her away from your domesticated ass.

Happily for you readers, the Chateau is a one stop shop for all your relationship management needs. We don’t just diagnose the problem; we give you solutions. So what do you do when the end is nigh and the bitching has evolved into a stone cold staff meeting? Whatever you do…

DON’T ENGAGE HER LOGICALLY.

Women are probably capable of some rudimentary logical thinking in a pinch, but it isn’t their default mental algorithm, and they won’t like having to be logical when they could defer to their insanely precocious feeeeelings instead. So when you engage a woman logically, assaulting her with the facts and bolstering your case, you are actually signing your own notice of dismissal. In the court of love, fairness is a fleeting proclamation and evidence an obstacle to be tampered with on the way to the Siberian celibacy camps.

“You’re late all the time.”

“No, I’m not. Once or twice, maybe. But do you remember me being on time for the house party last week?”

BAD.

“You’re late all the time.”

“You would be too if your ten other girlfriends were constantly bugging you.”

GOOD.

“I hate the way you kiss with the side of your lips.”

“I don’t do that. You’re just making shit up.”

BAD.

“I hate the way you kiss with the side of your lips.”

“Next time I’ll aim for your ear.”

GOOD.

“You never got me anything nice.”

“Sure I did. What about that cashmere sweater I got you for your birthday?”

BAD.

“You never got me anything nice.”

“Fuck you. That bag of Skittles cost me an arm and a leg.”

MOST EXCELLENT.

The above are merely suggestions for dealing with the red flags of rationalization bitching. Many game strategies are available to you, and all are good in their own way. The point of this post is that under no circumstances should you ever take a woman seriously in relationship matters, unless she is waving a small white stick with a pink tip in front of you.

Even then, proceed with caution.

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Predicting A Girl’s Infidelity

A reader emails:

As a rule, when the supply of eligible men goes down, female sluttiness goes up. If a girl will only date guys [who are] soccer players 6-4 or taller, then she’ll get desperate around these men moreso than a girl without this “limiting factor”. If a girl comes across 1 eligible guy a month, vs 10 eligible guys a day, then that 1 eligible guy has massive hand, and will score even if he has negative game.

The short-term dating limiting factors could be, but not limited to:

1. age
2. looks
3. race / hair color / eye color
4. height / build
5. income / class
6. musical talent
7. cultural tastes / fashion
8. social proof / notch count
9. game / humor / confidence

I know girls that sleep around, often sober, but only with guys within narrow parameters. They often exclude known cads and alpha males in the group to focus on a narrower, but not necessarily superior, sub-set of alpha males.

I propose finding short-term relationships among women that date within narrow parameters and long-term relationships with women that date all over the map.

That’s counter-intuitive.

If you qualify based on a limiting factor it seems like the logical basis for a long term relationship, but she’ll go just as ga-ga over another guy that meets this same limiting factor. If you are lucky she’ll come across this guy when your game is tight, and not on a beta downswing.

A girl that’s less discriminating is less likely to come across a man that sweeps her off her feet, and you into divorce court.

What this reader is hinting about is known as The Template, (or, in more poetic language, the Ideal Lover). Every person, man and woman, has a template etched into their brains from birth that, upon the pubertal blossoming, guides them like an invisible genital towards certain types of people who most closely match their ideal. The Template is a force to be reckoned with, because it derives its power from deeply embedded genetic imprinting passed down from generations of ancestors following their own similar templates.

Master seducers beware: once a girl has laid eyes on her ideal man she will swat away the importunings from objectively superior suitors like so many buzzing flies. Not even Jedi game has the force to distract a girl from pursuing with single-minded focus the man of her Template dreams. The good news is that The Template is very rarely fulfilled; out of 1,000 men a woman might meet over many years perhaps one or two of them will press all her buttons. So as a practical matter, The Template is no barricade to free and easy sex for a fly by night womanizer.

The reader makes a good point about the supply of men being limited not just by the numerical sex ratio but also by the self-imposed mate choice limitations of women. A romantically idealistic woman fully under the sway of her Template is a woman with dating hand, because very few men will be able to satisfy her prerequisites for love. Luckily, most women are not so beholden to the prudish pull of their Templates. Usually, women age out of slavish devotion to their templates as reality slowly but inexorably pounds into their heads that their Template in Shining Armor is more real as a fantasy than as an actual man. For examples of girls still enslaved by the dictates of their Templates, stroll through any high school corridor.

This is not to say women (and men) give up on their Templates entirely. We have all experienced that heart-quickening epiphany when the woman of our Templates dances into our vision, and for a moment our self-regard and worries vanish like tears in rain as our brains rev furiously and every nerve in our bodies readies for a shot at conquest. But we shelve the Template most days, figuring that the constant heeding of its call is often a flimsy pretext for rationalizing solitude.

Back to the reader’s premise: sluts sleep around, but only with a select few men who meet their Templates, i.e. within narrow mate criteria parameters. The premise has a kernel of truth, but is incomplete, unless we expand those narrow parameters to include most alpha males. While I have argued before that sluts are not less discriminating than chaste women, they aren’t exactly starry-eyed romantics staring pensively out their bedroom windows at the late summer moon, smug with the knowledge that their virtue remains untrammeled until a superlative cock shows up to rescue her lust from its prison of self-denial. A slut is still a slut, whether she accrues her cock notches with a subset of high status men or with randomly chosen men who just happened to be in the right place at the right time and didn’t fuck it up by saying the wrong thing.

One should remember that the alpha male, by dint of his universal attractiveness, strikes deep limbic notes in women regardless of the proximity of his characteristics to a woman’s Template. There are enough of these interchangeable alpha males on the prowl that a dedicated slut could notch quite a few cocks despite the very narrow parameters she sets for herself.

So what do we make of the reader’s bold contention that “groupie sluts” are worse long-term prospects than “inclusive sluts” because of the potential that a stray man meeting the former’s Template would quickly and easily tempt her to infidelity? Should men who are seeking LTRs drop any women from consideration who express a fascination with, say, pasty-faced activist anarcho-libertarians? Should a man who meets a woman’s template worry that he could be replaced by another, similarly templated man? Live by the template, die by the template?

No. Although I admire the reader’s logical chain of thought leading to his contrarian conclusion, in reality inclusive sluts are no less a risk factor than groupie sluts. A girl who comes across ten eligible men per day may not swoon as uncontrollably as a girl who sees an eligible man once per day, but the fidelity assurance from the lack of swooning is offset by the increase in permissible suitors.

To put it another way, would you rather compete with one (from your woman’s point of view) rare, exceptional man or with ten less rare, do-able men? Statistically, I doubt the groupie slut is any less faithful than the inclusive slut.

Then there is the matter of correlations. A jaded woman with lax standards who has a history of spreading for all taxonomy of penii is going to be a cheating risk no matter how swoon-proof she is. Her atrophied Template is no guarantee of fidelity, but it is a guarantee of a weary, utilitarian outlook on life from whom getting genuine love would be like squeezing blood from a stone. A woman like that simply has fewer hurdles to jump before being comfortable enough to relinquish her hole for plundering.

Conversely, a woman who has only slept with indie band bass players wearing guyliner is no flight risk at all if you happen to possess the emo phenotype yourself. If you don’t, you still have rarity of number on your side. Keep her away from hipster nightclubs and you significantly reduce competition pressure. And you must have done something right to bed her if you didn’t meet her stringent Template. That alone should infuse you with unstoppable confidence. Some of the strongest relationships I’ve known were unintuitive pairings between Template centered women and men who didn’t match their Templates. That is because those men brought something new, and exciting, to the table, which emboldened their women to wriggle free of the straitjacket of their templates.

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Women’s Standards Crumble Easily Given The Right Incentives

Maxim #39: A woman’s standards are like a house of cards: kick out one from the bottom and the whole edifice crashes down.

I was mingling with some friends, a mixed group, when one of the girls — 7.5, ~0.75 waist-hip ratio, lithe, A cups, mid-20s (because this info is vital to any discussion) — piped up about her standards in men. She went on for some length describing the kind of man she would deign to date. (She is single.) Now based on looks, age and lack of sprog baggage, she has the sexual market value to make some weighty demands. And she knew that on a logical level. Her 463 bullet point checklist she recited was quite impressive in its detail:

• worldly and well-travelled; must have been someplace besides Europe
• athletic; football or lacrosse player at a Div 1-A school preferred
• spontaneous
• generous; must have done volunteer work at some point in life
• Cute but with a rugged edge; a cross between Orlando Bloom and Christian Bale
• good conversationalist; can speak intelligently on any number of subjects, but especially film history
• stylish; not a J. Crew guy, but more like a Banana Republic-slash-Marc Jacobs guy
• muscular, but not too beefy; deltoids must be developed to bulging perfection
• tall, but not more than 8 inches taller than her
• a connoisseur of fine wine
• shuns video games

This was not the full list. It is the list I could remember for this post. Two weeks later, we all met again, and this time she was with a man, someone she had just started dating. He was:

• a full-time bartender
• a local who has never left the country (yes, he admitted this, with some pride)
• dressed in jeans and a button-down
• a couple inches taller than her (average male height)
• a state school grad
• tattooed
• a very chill, amiable guy; you could see yourself having a beer with him
• not particularly built, but not fat either
• better than average looking, but no Christian Bale
• socially savvy, but not intellectual
• confident
• a big video gamer (we discussed the finer points of the Kinect)

I hope you can see where I’m going with this. What she claimed were her inviolable standards and what kind of man she actually dated were very different. And she seemed oblivious to the disconnect. Bless her cutie pie hamster.

This isn’t the only example of a woman’s standards not being worth the mental paper they’re written on. I’m sure we’re all acquainted with the online spectacle of average-looking, and even ugly fat chicks, pumping their dating site profiles and Craigslist personals full of demands that would make a princess blush. But oh how quickly those standards evaporate when the harsh klieg lights of reality intrude!

A woman’s standards, however emphatically and insistently declared, are more like a fantasy dating team: free of the constraints of market barter, she happily indulges in a little of the ol’ ultradelusion. That is, if you ask a woman her standards, you will never —

and I mean never

— get an honest and realistic answer from her.

This is because women are, on the whole, incapable of accurate self-assessment. A woman’s prime directive in life is to sell herself the moon. A man’s directive is to sidestep paying her inflated price for that moon.

Given the right incentives, every woman’s standards will wilt into accommodation. And by incentives, I mean everything from the sex ratio to her actual sexual worth to the subversive level of game the man plays. A single, smart 60 year old woman, financially well-off and occupationally accomplished, can demand in the most florid and haughty language a sophisticated and wealthy man all she wants, but where the rubber meets the road she will jettison most of her ridiculously unrealistic standards for an average old schlub who tickles her pink because he managed not to fall asleep during an hour long dinner date with her.

And the hot young babe who wants the Hollywood caricature? Well, as we can see by the above anecdote, (played out millions of times over across this great land), if the guy is cool, aloof and has game, and maybe has the sort of conventionally low-status job that puts him in direct contact with lots of competitor women, our 463 bullet point heroine is gonna shred her list of demands like so many Vince Foster papers. (Why couldn’t the verklempft fag leak those cables?)

That’s the meaning of Maxim #39. If you have game, that is like pulling a card from the bottom of her stack of standards; she will quickly forget all about the cards on top that you aren’t holding.

Now women, being constitutionally hypergamous in a way that relatively more indiscriminate men aren’t, will by nature have more and higher standards than men, and will more often than men attempt to satisfy those standards. This leads to the laughable phenomenon of single mid 30s lawyer chicks futilely chasing after the same kind of guys they did when they were in college, except this time around the guys aren’t even bothering to give them the gratification of a pretend commitment.

But this shouldn’t dissuade you from recognizing a very important truth — for all their bluster and trumped-up demands, women will surrender rather easily to a dude with a righteous tattoo.

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Sex Differences In Book Dedications

Reader Joel emails:

Here is an observation I have made about book dedications and how they give some insight into the female mind. I would like your opinion about it. You may use it on your blog site, or not. I would like some of this to be made known to your readers.

Many of the younger men just don’t get the nature of women, until too late, that is. I suppose this is because the girls put up a good show, and virtually all of the young man’s socialization tells him very little but lies. I blame testosterone for a lot of male blindness to the female personality. It is hard think rationally about anything, let alone women, when your testosterone level is high.

But, clues are everywhere. For example, take book dedications. I work in the medical field. Many medical books, if authored by only one or two people (an increasingly rare phenomenon these days) will have a dedication by the author. Almost all medical books have been authored by men, and the dedications usually give recognition to a person or persons important in their life, like wives, fathers, and mentors.

A common dedication would be:

This book is dedicated to my wife, my loving companion and my constant inspiration.

Or in the older books, just a plain:

To my wife: Mary Alice Haagensen.

Fathers often get mentioned, eg:

To the loving memory of my father, etc.

My personal favorite from a giant in his field:

I dedicate this book to my father, whose love of truth inspired me in all my works.

This particular author was home schooled by his father. Just to show they don’t make them like that anymore, he was married to a nurse, and they both lived into their old age together. When she died, a friend asked him if he missed his wife or was depressed over her death. His response would be a nice epitaph for anyone:

To complain about her passing would be poor thanks for a lifetime of perfect companionship.

Often, the books are dedicated to their mentors, sometimes by name, sometimes generically. Also, sometimes to their students, who are given credit for inspiring the authors to greater efforts by their youthful curiosity.

So, now that women are starting to write books, and have been doing so long enough so that it is not a novelty and they no longer simply ape the customs of men, what do we see?

Two recent book dedications, from women professors at a major medical institution:

To Andy-my husband, my best friend, my constant supporter, and the most decent person I have ever known.

Now, let’s look at this dedication. Where does she say she has the slightest emotional attachment to him? I could have written this about my dog, and with more feeling. And, to anybody who knows the female mind, a “decent man” is the man who she finds distinctly uninteresting in bed. By God, she is advertising to the world that her husband is a dud. A complete beta.

A second example:

To Michelle, Ryan, Alice, Justin, and Christopher.

Sounds odd. Who are these people? The first four are her kids. The last is her live in boyfriend, who happens to be a professor in the same department. No mention of her husband(s). Or father.

These dedications are outrageous, in my opinion, but, such is the amoral mindset of women.

Don’t say you weren’t warned.

I find this kind of putatively trivial stuff worthy of my attention because I believe much wisdom and knowledge about the mind of women can be gleaned from it. In fact, and despite my many science-oriented posts, most of what I learned about women was gotten from simply observing them in real life, whether in their doings with me or with others. Yet, the science is fascinating for how often it backs up what I observe with my own eyes.

So seemingly little things like sex differences in book dedications, when viewed with an inquisitive mind unshackled from the chains of hoary platitudes, leads to a better understanding of the emotional and cognitive commonalities that almost all women share. This, in turn, illuminates for the knowledge-seeking man the deeply embedded thinking processes that guide the behavior — sexual or otherwise — of women.

Am I surprised by the curiosity that modern Western women are rather unaffectionate, masculine sounding, and even belittling in their dedications to the men in their lives, or that that often dump their lovers — sometimes husbands, sometimes live-in boyfriends — at the back of the line of a laundry list of people? Am I thunderstruck by the fact that the typical authoress’s book dedication sounds solipsistic, like a vajrap straight outta self-empowerment?

The answer, of course, would be no. But I didn’t need anyone to tell me that. All I needed was a willingness to see the world as it really is, and to flinch not at what I saw. In a sane, reasonable world, this would not be a monumental accomplishment on my part. But in the world bequeathed us, filled to brimming with the willing blind and their wicked pied pipers, it is a glorious imposition upon this veil of lies.

To my readers: sharpen your claws, tear the veil into tatters, and feel the tingles of the women.

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The Fundamentals

There is so much pickup information available now that it’s easy to lose sight of the fundamentals that govern sexual tension and attraction between men and women. When the information cascade overwhelms it begins to pull you away from what works, and what has always worked for you. Consequently, over-analysis can hinder your spiritual growth as a womanizer. That is why it is vital to step back every so often, ignore the steady stream of advice, and return to a few golden, immutable laws of attraction that will never go out of style.

The one fundamental to which I always return, and has never failed to reward me as expected, is this:

Women cannot resist the aloof and indifferent man.

Of all the compulsions hard-wired in a female’s hindbrain, this one is etched deeper and more enduringly. Every woman, to a greater or lesser degree, feels the burn of lust and the agony of love for a man who projects a “take it or leave it” attitude.

Note that aloof and indifferent doesn’t mean haughty, distant or uninterested. It means disinterested. It means that while you may love her and flatter her and soothe her and give her gifts, underlying it all is an attitude that tells her “I can walk if necessary, and find someone new.”

It may seem counterproductive for a woman to respond so favorably to a man exhibiting this attitude, but the evolution of human sociosexuality offers an explanation: an aloof man is indirectly advertising his skill at seducing women. Such a man will give a woman sons who will inherit his ladykiller genes. Conversely, a man who gloms onto a woman may as well be holding a placard that says “My celibacy is nigh!”. He has no confidence that should his girlfriend or wife misbehave, or leave him, he will be able to find another woman’s bossom for comfort.

And really, that’s what all this talk by women about valuing “confidence” in men means; what women are really saying is that they value men who could dump them on a whim and get with new women easily. Men who can do this are filled with the kind of confidence that turns women on.

The aloof and indifferent attitude can be expressed reactively or proactively, deliberately or passively. She senses it when other women flirt with you and you refuse to act ashamed for it. You don’t rub your desirability to competitor women in her face, but neither do you downplay it.

She senses it when she is the first to say “I love you”, after many months of eager — but ultimately unfulfilled — anticipation on her part for you to say it first.

She senses it when you occasionally pepper your relationship with unexplained absences.

She senses it when you hang out with guy friends who are known players.

She senses it when you drag your feet about going on expensive trips together.

She senses it when you are the first to hop out of bed after climax.

She senses it when your exes are always bumping into you.

She senses it when you announce that you don’t understand guys like her male friend who can only play video games when his girlfriend is not around to castigate him, and when you then proudly and defiantly proclaim you value your “freedom and independence” too much to be like that guy.

She senses it when a half-assed microwaved meal that you cooked for the both of you means more to her than a four course dinner slaved over for hours in the kitchen by a beta would mean to her.

She senses it when you set the bar so low, it becomes a challenge to disappoint her.

The fundamentals. Be aloof. Be indifferent. Be loving.

Do these three things and you will never be lacking for a woman’s eternally grateful love.

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Why Women Get Cheated On

Here is a woman writing to an advice columnist about her predilection for dating men who wind up cheating on her.

Dear Bossy: I’m writing to you with hope that you can help me shed some light on why things happen in my personal life, and what i can do to resolve those things making me unhappy.

I feel really happy and fulfilled in all areas outside of my love life – career, family, friends, sports etc etc.  It’s all going great and I’m healthy and confident and good.  However, the last two years, i’ve had multiple experiences in my romantic life that make me question my own judgement and leave me feeling, well, worthless and unloved.

Let me take you through the details.

Two years ago, i caught my partner sleeping with another girl in our bed.  I moved out and broke it off with him.

Last year, i met someone i felt a real connection with.  He was warm and intelligent and thoughtful, and i really felt good around him.  I heard gossip from other people about him cheating, but when i confronted him to ask him why people would say such things, he assured me he was devoted to me.  Several months later, he confessed that he had another girlfriend, not just me.  I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.  I cut all ties with him, and looking back, i know that i had my part to play in the situation, because, just like last time when there had been signs, i ignored them.  Not because i didn’t want them to be true, but because i guess i just trusted blindly. You know the saying, a liar won’t believe anyone else?  Well, i guess being someone who wouldn’t cheat made me ignorant of the idea that others do.

It took another 6 months before i met someone i was attracted to, who i had started off being friends with.  I just felt like a casual fling, he was not my type at all romantically, and I advised him that while I enjoyed his friendship, I wasn’t able to offer him anything more. One night this guy sent me a message saying he had just been on a date, and that he’d had an amazing time, but the girl in question wouldn’t have sex on the first date….so could he come over?  Again, I acknowledge my part in this by wanting a casual fling, but I guess I thought one could be conducted with dignity and respect.

Fast forward another couple of months, I got to know this really lovely guy at work.  I was just friends with him for a long time, not good friends, but i felt i knew enough about him.  I’ve seen him take care of another colleague who was sick, he has photos of his nieces and nephews on his desk, and he gets physically uneasy when one of our male colleagues makes inappropriate comments.  I guess what I’m saying is that this time around, I took the time to try to pick up on cues that tell me what a man’s really like before dating him.  Anyhow, I went to lunch a few times with him, and I really felt he was genuine and compassionate and interested in me.  We went on a couple of dates, and they were really great.  We went out for a coffee after work and talked for four hours.  I had been very cautious about dating given my previous experiences, but felt that he was trustworthy and honest.

Two days later, my other colleague, who had recently broken up with his work girlfriend, came to me and asked me to coffee (not knowing i was seeing this colleague – i wanted to keep it quiet at such an early stage).  During coffee, my friend broke down and told me that his ex had told him she’s started seeing someone else….yep, you guessed it, my new guy.

Bossy, I feel like I’m a hamster in a wheel, running on the same path making the same mistakes over and over again.  I don’t want to make these mistakes.  I thought I’d learned from the first two cheaters, but it’s becoming a pattern that is hurting so much, and I want to break it.

To an extent, I hold these guys responsible for their own behaviour, but deep in my heart I feel like this is happening because 1. I am not picking up on signals that i should, and 2. I am sending out signals that i am deserving of this.

Bossy, I’m swearing off men for a little while until I get my head straight.  At the moment I just feel too fragile and too suspicious, which is definitely not a good mix for a potential future!

I guess I’m just seeking your advice on a couple of things:
Firstly, how can i better screen guys?  What’s wrong with me that the men i’ve dated in the last two years consider me just discardable and unworthy of honesty and fidelity?  How can I paint myself in a diffferent light?

Secondly, I feel like dirt.  I feel worthless and discardable… some of these guys have gone on to be in successful relationships, so it feels to me like they have the capacity to respect, but not to respect me.  How can I overcome these feelings?  What can I do to feel good about myself again?

Finally, when it’s time for me to be ready to date again, how can I develop a balance between being jaded and cynical, and being naive?

I know I’m imperfect.  I can learn a lot and I accept my role in these situations.  I just feel so used and useless right now, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Thank you,
Cheated

“I feel like I’m a hamster in a wheel, running on the same path making the same mistakes over and over again.”

You don’t say! Even women recognize their gender is afflicted with a rationalization hamster.

Props to the guy asking for a booty call because his other woman wouldn’t put out on the first date. Balls, my friends.

I’m not including “Bossy’s” reply, because it was stupid — typical womanese, full of blame-shifting and platitudes, signifying nothing.

Here is the truth. Women get cheated on for four reasons, three of which they are complicit in their own betrayal.

1. They have stopped catering to a man’s desire. Women who choose to get fat or withhold sex are ripe candidates for being cheated on. A man who is driven to cheating by his fat, frigid wife has my sympathies.
2. They tingle for assholes. About 1/3 of women — usually the hottest chicks — have an irresistible urge to copulate with assholes, jerks, thugs and other assorted aloof cads. (Another 1/3 are susceptible to the asshole’s charms but are occasionally capable of eschewing the blind cravings of their vaginas.) Naturally, the assholes cheat. These women then cry foul, but they have invited betrayal into their lives. Their pain was prophesied the moment they spread their legs.
3. They shoot out of their league. I would tell a woman: You want to date an alpha one or more points higher than you? Prepare to be betrayed at some future date, said date which will be sooner rather than later if he’s considerably higher value than what you could be expected to get. More than a few women are OK with this trade-off.
4. Men like variety. Women have no control over this. Men are programmed to enjoy the hunt, and to experience pleasure from a multitude of pussy, and men with options are able to fulfill that desire. The best women can do to counter this manly impulse is to be young and hot.

A reader named “repentant male” (*cough* girly man *cough*) commented on the article:

I thought I would add some thoughts from the opposite side.

I used to be a cheating husband.  I love my wife dearly, I love my kids, I get angry at sexist jokes, and have photos of my kids on the desk.

I have been married for 20+ years, but there has been a hole in my personal fulfillment.  I met somebody else who was extremely physical with me.  O.M.G It was like I was 19 again – My world changed from one where I was literally begging for physical intimacy – and driving my wife away by doing so, to one where my every need was more than fulfilled.

After 6 months, I decided that it was time to leave my wife of 20+ years.  in the end, I couldn’t do it – I confessed, and broke the relationship off with the other woman.

Was it entirely my wifes fault? no Was it entirely my fault? – no – it was a combination of factors.  My wife didn’t understand how important physical intimacy was to me, and I wasn’t communicating properly with her.

Long story short, lots of counseling later, we are both still together, and the physical side is getting better – it will never be as awesome as it was with the other woman, but that’s not the point.

So – Are you *sure* that you are meeting the needs of your partner?  You may not be.

Take heed, ladies. You have to earn a husband’s faithfulness. This woman was lucky; her husband was too beta to do the right thing for his happiness. Maybe you won’t be so lucky. The sexual market is a worldwide dominion of genitals, and marriage is no exemption from its eternal, unrelenting, remorseless barter.

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