The Digital Fairytale

The Psychology of Men

*Saved by the Internet Archive – originally posted August 16, 2004

Men are fascinating creatures, everyone says that women are confusing, but I definitely beg to differ. I understand women just fine, it is men I have yet to figure out. What brings this on, none other than a guy – but not for the reasons you are probably thinking.
The short version – Shortly after I moved here to Morehead, a guy randomly emailed me (from here in town). We got to talking and eventually hooked up, he was simply a “friend with benefits”. There was never any chance for more, for no other reason than that I do not date “closet-cases”. Until about a year ago, he had never even been to my apartment – I used to tease him about being afraid that someone whom he did not know and would likely never see again might just see him coming into my apartment – how scandalous that would be. Anyway, we have been just friends for about six months now, but tonight is what brings on this rant.
Over the weekend, I had a three hour “bi*ch” session with a friend. Traditionally, we get drunk during these as it is just that much more entertaining for the other. A few minutes after the bi*ch session ended, ***** called (I’ll keep his paranoia down and just leave him as blanks). We decided to get together and watch a movie, as I was in no state to drive, he came and picked me up. Everything was fine, we watched movies, and drank quite a bit – as I was already “sh*t-faced”, I ended up “skunk-a*s drunk” naturally. We talked, and laughed, and watched movies – nothing else. After he sobered up, he brought me home, and helped me to bed (I had one hell of a hangover the next day). Absolutely nothing sexual happened. As he had been a perfect gentleman, I decided to cook dinner to thank him (nothing fancy). Here is where the confusing part of guys comes in (did I say this was the short version, well I lied ).
So, Monday I cut out of work a little early and came home to cook. About 5:30PM ***** showed up. Everything was fine, we talked a bit and had a glass of wine. I went into the kitchen to put in the garlic bread, and asked him (from the kitchen) “Do you want parmesan on the bread”. When he didn’t answer, I stuck my head out of the kitchen to ask again. What was I greeted by? None other than ***** sitting on my couch with his dick in his hand stroking it. He looked at me (with his very bad come hither look I might add) and said “Fu*k dinner, let’s just skip to dessert”. All I could do was laugh, I told him that I wasn’t that drunk and to put his cock away. I went back in the kitchen, now everything would have been fine, except my uber-bi*ch kicked in. I came out of the kitchen (he still hadn’t put his dick back in his pants) and I went off, I told him that A) he needed a new line, B) I was no longer in the mood to have dinner, C) I had work to do, and D) “if you haven’t gotten the hint – get the fu*k out”. Needless to say, he put his dick away. When he didn’t make any movements towards the door, I looked at him and with as much bit*hy drama-queen as I could muster told him to “get the FU*K OUT!”, he got the hint and left (subtle aren’t I). Now was I a bi*ch – YES. Was it justified, I think so.
Let’s be honest, if I invite a guy for dinner, he should at least have the courtesy to wait until after dinner to pull out his dick, or at least let me pull out his dick.
Now, I can hear every guy out there, “you led him on”, what a typical guy response. You see, I have come to the conclusion that when talking to most guys they hear in an entirely different language.
If you say, “How was your day?”, they hear “F*ck me now!”
If you say, “Do you want to grab a bite for dinner?”, they hear “F*ck me now!”
If you even say, “Hi”, they hear “F*ck me now!”
But if you say, “F*ck me now!”, they hear something to the effect of “**** is on TV”. For str8 guys this is probably some sport, for most gay guys it can be just about anything else.
Now, on a side note, my favorite of all are the men that refer to themselves as “we”; the collective “we” to which they refer is often none other than themselves and their penis. What the F*ck? Now, in all honesty, I love my penis, but I do not refer to it as a person – that is just insane. I don’t ask my penis what it wants for lunch or dinner (though I have met guys that refer to what food their penis is in the mood for).
I wonder if it is a sign that ***** hasn’t called me.

Tags: classic, drama, guys, men, psychology, Rant, sex

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