… this story is the male counterpart to A Selfish Bitch or Classy Lady …
Counterpart to A Selfish Bitch or Classy Lady
I didn’t realize she was classy, I mean really classy. A real lady. Yeah, I told her she was, but I say that to all the women I message on the online dating site. One of them is bound to be taken in with my words and be easy prey for me to take advantage of. I know they want a “relationship,” so I tell them “I do, too. I want a good woman, a classy woman. I woman who knows her worth and won’t settle for anything less. And, more importantly, I want a woman who’s looking for a good man.”
Those are my lines. I find a handful of ladies that seem to bite my line, but I don’t get too close. I message each one maybe once a week, if that often. Make them miss me. I know I’m a good dude. I look younger than my age, I run five miles at least four days a week, my body is muscular, I have great eyes, I have a good job, and I’m independent. Of course, women want me. They’re there for me to choose from.
Yeah, I still go the clubs to scope out new hot bodies. As I mentioned, I look younger than my age, so I can still get the younger babes. They’re the most gullible. Give them a drink and it’s likely they’ll suck my dick in the bathroom. Stupid hoes are the only ones who don’t know the game. They let me buy them drinks and then won’t put out. Or want me to take them out on a real date. What do I look like spending money on them, when I don’t know if I’m getting anything in return? Only prissy women are single. They need to get their head in the game, the game of giving head, if they want a man; a good man like me.
So, I see a picture and read the profile of this chick. She looks nice, has a nice smile. I skimmed through her profile so I could write her a message that would make her think I actually read the entire thing. Women write as if we really care what they say. All we want is to look at their pictures and then imagine how they’d look naked. She mentioned she walked Gordy Park after I said I ran five miles a day there a few times a week. Why did I do that? She seemed nice enough, not sure if she was easy yet, but I asked her if she wanted us to meet. She suggested we meet at the Park to walk and talk. Crazy bitch. I don’t want to “walk and talk.” I didn’t want her to think I wasn’t interested in getting to know her emotionally and only interested in getting to know her – in the carnal sense, so I asked for her number so we could text. She fell for it, maybe she’s a smart bitch.
I text her a week later, I still don’t get too close. I don’t want her thinking I’m her boyfriend or anything. I text her asking if she likes to dance. She replies back that she does. I ask her if she wants to meet at a night club in Jersey Thursday night. This bitch replies back that she doesn’t meet men out for the first time at night and that a club isn’t a good place to talk and learn more about each other. I’m trying to learn more about her, just not about what she has to say, if you know what I mean. Damn, if she’d have agreed to come, that would have evened out my lineup to six women. That’s how I play the game. Invite numerous women to the same night club on the same night and work the room, rotating between them all, and find the one most likely to let me penetrate her armor or at least repay me in the bathroom for buying her a drink at the bar.
Well, that didn’t work with this one. I forgot she was close to my age and thinks things out more than the younger girls do. I don’t want to appear to not understand her ensuring her safety, so I ask her if she wants to go to a jazz club Friday night. She gave me the same line about a jazz club being quieter than a night club, but still not conducive to talking. I felt my bald head getting hot. How dare she refuse to come see me when I ask her out?
I emailed her telling her that she was selfish and bitchy and to give credence to my claim, I told her if she’d had children she wouldn’t be so selfish and bitchy. I know women with kids are easier, but I didn’t want to say that. Single mothers are usually desperate for a man like me and meet me wherever I ask them to. But, nooooo, not this one who didn’t have any kids. I go on to tell her that men online want ‘friendship sex,’ and women online want ‘free lunch.’ My statements had a reverse effect on me as I think I outed myself that I wanted ‘friendship sex;’ because her reply reminded me that she suggested we walk the park and that’s free. Ummmmm, I guess she really didn’t want a free lunch. Okay, my bad. I didn’t reply back after that.
Time goes by and I keep thinking about her. I’ve been back and forth to the club and met different women, got blow jobs from a few, even fucked some in my car and never called or messaged them again. But, this one, kept coming back to my mind. I realized that I did want a significant person in my life and not some easy bimbo. I did want a classy woman, not someone who’ll suck dick for a drink or meet a guy at a club in a dress that barely covers her tits and ass, in shoes that she can barely walk in without looking like a bobble head having a seizure. I can wait it out. I’m a good guy and she’ll message me back. I know she really wants me.
Time continues to go by and I’ve been re-reading our messages. Even when I called her out of her name, she stayed … classy. She never cursed me back. Actually, she thanked me for telling her what I thought of her and for letting her know what men online want. Yeah, she was a little sarcastic, but not mean. She didn’t even sound angry. It’s as if she expected things to go south, without her going south. I thought about when I told her I wanted a classy woman, a good woman, and all that bullshit I didn’t mean. But, I did mean it. I just didn’t know it at that time. How can I get myself out of this mess?
I message her a simple note that says, “Sorry Amy.” I didn’t have anything to lose. I was surprised when she replied, though I didn’t like her reply. She was really smart. She asked me what I was sorry for. Damn. I was hoping she’d forgot. I message her that I’m sorry for any misunderstanding, knowing full well there wasn’t a misunderstanding, not on her part. She understood exactly what I’d said and what I’d meant. I’m the one who misunderstood. I thought she was a dumb bitch that I could bang. I was wrong. She really was classy. She sent me a message back saying she didn’t misunderstand what I’d told her. Double damn. How can I fix this? I really do need a woman like her in my life. I think. I message her saying I want a classy woman like her in my life. I’m being honest. She’ll see that and give me another chance. She writes back saying she’s confused and if I think she’s selfish and bitchy or a classy lady.
Maybe I’m not ready to have a classy lady in my life. They make me think too much. They’re too much work. I don’t want to have to explain my words to anyone. She could’ve accepted my apology and moved on and let me take her out, but noooooo, she wants answers. So, what it’s my fault and I created this situation. … This is too much work. I don’t have time for this, I have to get dressed to get to the club.