Women strut stuff, breaking heels and hearts

Once upon a time, in my youth as a freshman at Keene State College, I was required to take a women’s studies course. My assignment: write a 20-page paper on Premenstrual Syndrome or, as the book we used in class called it, “Hormonal Hurricanes.” This book managed to find a way to make one of the most nauseating topics for men to read about sound exciting and interesting.

Thankfully, that was the first and last women’s studies course I will ever have to take. Indeed, it was a dark time in my life and it really got me thinking, “Where in the hell are all the men’s studies courses?” Not that I really wanted to study men but where was the equality? Females aren’t even a minority, especially at KSC.

When I applied, I was told females outnumbered males four to one on campus. If the male and female students were to go to war on this campus, my side would be screwed and I’d probably only be allowed to live until my year-long subscription to Cosmopolitan magazine was up. You want to know the secret behind why women have never gotten what they wanted throughout history?

 It’s simple; women have never known what they want. As an old and wise business entrepreneur once told me, as I was contemplating which brand of cigar I wanted to purchase, “Indecisiveness is a feminine trait.”

This indecisiveness is most apparent when a woman is trying to end a relationship with a guy. With a man, it’s as simple and blunt as “I don’t want a relationship with you.” That’s all. End of transaction. However, I feel that women walk into these kinds of situations not quite confident in what they want to do. It’s like they’re suddenly flooded with a barrage of second thoughts. “I should probably be very vague and beat around the bush so that I’ll have the power to take back what I say in case I have any last minute regrets.” Nice strategy you selfish jerks. Nevertheless, women keep insisting they want to be with a “nice guy.”

Being nice is simple enough, but we’re not talking about Webster’s definition of nice. This nice is not so much a state of being, but rather a role in a play. What’s that role, you ask? A zombie. A simple-minded blood sucking zombie. You see, the reason this works so well is because the female definition of nice doesn’t really have any real substance or character to it. You’re just a very slow-moving empty vessel with nothing to do but chase after her and occasionally groan, “uh huh.” You don’t care about your own life because you’re already dead. You have no friends, no job to complain about and definitely no contrary opinions. Instead, the woman’s life is your top priority.

Once you’ve finally succeeded in biting her, she eventually becomes another zombie, you get bored and then go in search for someone else to bite.

I guess that analogy doesn’t work as well as I originally thought it would, but you get the idea. Just listen, agree and always be prepared for follow-up questions.   

    Rather than creating any more elaborate metaphors that Stephanie Meyer might choose to steal for her next Twilight novel, I’ll save all the women in the world some time. You don’t want a nice guy. What you want is the most stubborn and disagreeable person ever to set foot on the planet (me). Think about it; dating a nice guy just ruins the whole game of dating in the first place. There’s nothing to change and he’s most likely going to be too busy helping his numerous friends move into their new apartments to have any time for you. In addition, whenever you ask him for his opinion on anything, you’re just going to receive a friendly smile accompanied by a lovely “Whatever makes you happy, my sweet little Jilly-Bean”-like remark.

At least an overly-judgmental guy like me will have the selflessness to tell you that you don’t need that brownie for dessert or your new sundress makes your thunder thighs extremely noticeable. Unfortunately, I’m way ahead of our time when it comes to the art of picking up women, so most of my strategies will just get you hit with a steel chair WWE style. Like all good artists, my genius will most likely go unrecognized until I die miserable and alone.

At this point, you’re probably wondering, “Gee Matt, do you really think you’re that much better than everyone else around you? Do you genuinely believe all of your screwed up and negative perceptions on cognitive thought and social behavior are correct?” The answer to both of these questions is surprisingly simple, yes. With that said, I plan on  living happily ever after in my arrogance.

Matt Miracle can be contacted at mmiracle@ksc.mailcruiser.com.