On Being A Single Woman
he other day I was ruminating on my new single status, and abruptly realized that at some point in the future, I was probably going to want to attract the company of a male. Jesus, I thought, it’s been ages since I’ve had to deal with that! This, of course, set me to pondering where on Earth I might locate a suitable male that didn’t immediately make me want to either stab out my eyes or his. Clearly, the Restaurant Where I Work™ is right out, as we all know what wanders in there. Uck. This left me to consider what kind of hunting grounds I should be stalking. Bookstores came immediately to mind, obviously. The sort of male I might want to spend time with would probably hang out at a bookstore. I considered coffee shops, but they seem to be attracting the emo set these days, and I can’t be expected to put up with that sort of bullshit. I’d slap people and end up in jail.
There’s the bar, of course, the tried and true hunting grounds, but, well, I know what hangs out in bars. I’m reasonably sure I don’t want any of that. Church, another common arena, is also out of the running. I suppose I could resort to keeping my eyes peeled at the grocery store, but frankly, I’ve noticed what makes up the majority of Wal-Mart shoppers, and I don’t want any of that, either.
(Amusing tangent — I was in Wal-Mart the other day, and ended up following the most miserable little old couple around. I don’t think they stopped bitching and sniping at each other the whole time they were in the store. I’m beginning to think that it’s hatred that makes for a long-lasting relationship, because those two were clearly staying with each other out of spite.)
Which brings us to the business of actually attracting some male’s notice. To this end, I had a wander through the cosmetics aisle while I was at the Wal-Mart, only to find myself baffled. I thought to myself, Fuck, I’m going to have to bring one of my waitresses with me, to explain what all this shit is for! (I work with several girly-girls. They all use make-up and pluck things and wax things, and do all that stuff girls are supposed to do.) I actually needed new make-up, as my foundation and mascara are gone. I figured I could handle foundation, mascara, and an eyeliner pencil without intervention. I’m a bright girl, right? I shouldn’t need a translator for fucking foundation, right?
Right. Jesus.
The foundation wasn’t actually too bad, as I was able to locate that fairly easily, despite that they’d changed the product look, name, and color titles since the last time I’d had to buy that. The bastards are always doing that to me. They did that with my hair dye recently, too, the fuckers. This stuff is hard enough as it is, without you people dicking around with the names and the colors of the boxes! I’m a busy woman — I can’t be expected to keep up with this shit!
Eyeliner and mascara turned out to be a misery, because not only did they have fifteen different colors to pick from, they had different styles and types of each color, not to mention brand names, prices, etc and so forth. I finally picked something at random, just to escape while still feeling as though I had accomplished my goals.
Once you add all that to the fact that I really have no fucking clue whatsoever as to how to use most of these products, you can see that being a girl becomes tremendously stressful for me. It can only end badly. I used to tell people, “Man, I should have been a boy. I’d be so much better at that.” except I’ve noticed these last few years that they’re starting to do this shit to men, too, and I have nothing but sympathy for you guys. Run now, while you still have the chance.
All this is why, as a general rule, I have mostly eschewed “girliness”. I don’t understand most of it, can’t use most of the products properly, don’t have the patience to bother with it in the morning, and I’m just not any good at it. This is why I frequently end up getting introduced as, “This is Java. She’s a bulldyke, except she likes men.” (No, I’ve actually been introduced like that. By more than one person. I think it’s the combat boots that cause it.)
On a side note, I was once introduced to a gay man that way, and his response was, “Cool! I love bulldykes! Let’s go hang out!”
This is also why I stick with jeans and t-shirts when it comes to fashion. Since I don’t understand the majority of what constitutes “fashion” these days, and have no skill when it comes to matching colors, I stick with dark colors and jeans and t-shirts. And, um, flannel. And combat boots. And no make-up. And, uh, yeah. I don’t do much with my hair, either, because I’ve never been any good with that junk. Right. Hey, at least I smell nice. I’ve got perfume down pat.
So, I don’t know where to go to find the men, and I don’t know how to attract them, which only leaves me with luck for that. Then there’s the problem where I’m completely oblivious to flirting, and have no concept of how one goes about the process. My theory is that, I should be able to walk up to a reasonable male and say, “Excuse me. I find you physically appealing. Would you like to go to coffee with me and chat, so I can try to determine if you’re a huge douchebag or not? There may possibly be sex later, but I’m not making any promises.” Sadly, it seems you have to screw around a lot more at the process than that, and there apparently has to be dating and arcane courtship rituals that I have no knowledge of nor real interest in.
Surely, I can’t be the only person who thinks we’ve over-complicated this matter to an absurd degree?
April 3rd, 2008 at 2:29 pm
Pfft, makeup. Most damn overrated thing ever.
Okay, it can be a nice to accent things, but it’s gilding the lily, as it were. I’ve never met a girl I found attractive, by which I mean I was honestly attracted to her, who needed makeup. Most of them didn’t bother with it, and when they did it detracted for them more than it helped them. True attractiveness is found in the eyes and the way they sparkle, the lips and the way they curl, the voice and the way it curves… true attractiveness is in the package, in the way the spirit moves the flesh.
You’re smart, you’re witty, and you’ve got personality to spare; I can’t imagine this not being true for you as well. Sell yourself on pure external physical appearence alone and you sell yourself short!
There are certain types of makeup that attract the eye, generally the “I’m a slut” too-much-eyeshadow look. Which engenders purely a physical response. Not what you’re going for, I imagine. Not something I even like to feel; I feel manipulated when I hormonally react to that.
The system IS simple, you CAN do pretty much what you said to someone you know at least a little bit, it’s called asking someone out. ^.^ Would you really WANT to let someone know you found them physically appealing BEFORE you found out if they were a douchebag? Because chances are they are… and chances are they don’t THINK they are, and will just hear “physically appealing” as “WANT YOU NOW”… and that conversation will just go nowhere pleasant!
Lastly, I recommend bare legs. And pictures thereof.
MrJames Reply:
April 3rd, 2008 at 2:42 pm
I suppose that depends on the goal of the encounter. Sometimes one is searching for a relationship…and sometimes just relations.
Dragon of Life Reply:
April 3rd, 2008 at 3:07 pm
I maintain that regardless of the goal of an encounter, one is better off engaging a reasonably nice and appreciative counterpart as opposed to one interested only in physicality; one who takes pleasure in the person as a whole, rather than solely in their ease on the eyes.
More rewarding, and more likely to come out of it with a friend at least, then a jerk who’s mad because he’s rejected. ^.^
JavaElemental Reply:
April 4th, 2008 at 12:11 pm
Aw, thanks for the compliments.
I wouldn’t curse anyone with pictures of my fish-belly white legs, though. People would go blind from the glare. 
Dragon of Life Reply:
April 4th, 2008 at 2:35 pm
My experience is that most girls I’ve seen do pale better than they do dark. Maybe I just don’t like tan lines. I’d still take that challenge.
arensb Reply:
April 5th, 2008 at 12:10 pm
As a red-blooded American male who likes sex with women, may I just say,
Fuck makeup.
Oh, and fuck perfume, too.
April 3rd, 2008 at 2:36 pm
“Excuse me. I find you physically appealing. Would like to go to coffee with me and chat, so I can try to determine if you’re a huge douchebag or not? There may possibly be sex later, but I’m not making any promises.”
Actually, um, that should work pretty well. I showed this article to a coworker, and she laughed her ass off, and said that was almost word for word the way she snagged her second husband, back in ‘82. And frankly, it’d work on me. Hell, I think I might just start trying it myself. We could start a trend.
I have been hanging around at some bars - much higher standard of clientele out here than in Michigan - and I’ve been frankly appalled at the pickup techniques employed by the new breed of alpha males. There is no way I’m going to grind myself on some strange girl’s ass as an introduction. Nor am I going to comfortably suggest strip beer pong as an icebreaker.
yeah - I might have to alter the dialogue some - “…to see if you’re completely and totally out of your mind. If you’re only a little nuts, then there might be sex, but then again, maybe not. I’m fickle.”
MrJames Reply:
April 3rd, 2008 at 2:50 pm
Speaking of -
http://leasticoulddo.com/comic/20080325
And to be fair, that’s not my crowd. Those more my age enjoy a view of the OSU set. Microbrews and amateur anthropology.
JavaElemental Reply:
April 4th, 2008 at 12:12 pm
I’m all up for starting an ease-of-dating trend. I’ll have to give the line a shot when I get around to it!
April 3rd, 2008 at 4:06 pm
I definitely agree it’s been overly complicated. Since I’ve been in Michigan, it seems like I meet more and more people who want to complicate it further. I’m not sure if I blame Michigan for bringing us all together, or the school for attracting those types. Then I wonder why I’m here.
JavaElemental Reply:
April 4th, 2008 at 12:13 pm
Hmm. I’ve not lived in another state where I had a chance to test the dating waters. Maybe it is just us Michiganders complicating things.
April 3rd, 2008 at 6:22 pm
Bah. I seem to remember a certain sister of mine that would use me as a “crash test dummy” for her make up ideas. I still recall you doing something with my hair that was refered to as a “DA” Which I later learned was ducks ass.
I should point out that out of all the women I’ve met that swore they needed a man to be happy never had that pleasure.
Let me tell you this, I found my wife by accident. I had decided to give up on the whole dating bit cause I was getting no where and then along she comes.
I think you know the rest.
GOOD GOLLY IT’S GOING TO BE 5 YEARS SOON.
Anywho, Don’t hunt for a man, you are looking for qualities that don’t exist.
Just wander, look, and find someone you can spend ten minutes with that doesn’t make you want to murder them.
Then you can figure the rest out later.
JavaElemental Reply:
April 4th, 2008 at 12:14 pm
*LOL* I’m not looking for marriage material! And congrats — has it been five years already? Good lord!
April 3rd, 2008 at 7:39 pm
I’m not even touching this one!! I’m a born flirt and I don’t think that even at my age I’d have a problem finding a date if I wanted one! So, I’m no help to you at all….sorry
JavaElemental Reply:
April 4th, 2008 at 12:15 pm
I’ve been told I’m a natural flirt. Apparently, I just can’t manage to do it on purpose.
April 4th, 2008 at 1:34 pm
Reading this made me laugh so hard I peed like Jasmine when someone grabs her collar.
Having suitably wiped myself down and located the Febreeze I can communicate how wonderfully happy I was to have the time to get online to read this.
Dating. Ah, the smell of young bucks sowing their wild oats (confused, homo-erotic/homophobic, raging alcoholic man-boys participating in serial date-raping contests,) and coquettish lasses tantalizingly batting their eyes for attention. (Blazed-out, horny, gutter-sluts seeking the only acceptance their sexually abusive dad/uncle/brother/priest/whoever trained them to understand.)
This is the world you are entering. Those are the players in this game.
I can scarce contain my glee.
However, the alternative (neglect) is unbearable.
But then… that’s why you’re here.
On top of which, I am curious to keep score on this because you, dear, have an amazing blind spot when it comes to someone being attracted to you. Not after you… not desiring you… not wanting to add-you-to-the-list…
…but genuinely into you.
Okay, I’ll admit it. I am having WAY to much fun thinking about the stories to come.
Let the games begin.
MrJames Reply:
April 7th, 2008 at 1:54 pm
Perhaps a tad too much evil glee, there, Gil. Though I do confess to a twinge of pity for those who attempt to misuse Marci. Only a twinge, though. Their loss will go unmourned, unremarked.
April 15th, 2008 at 1:13 pm
Installment #2.
After examining this idea more fully, I was extremely delighted by the results my scrutiny provided.
Man-child beware. Marci is a woman. Not a “girl.” Not a “ho.” Not a “beyatch.” A woman. There are some things you need to know before you embarrass yourself.
If you sport the same pair of jeans every day because your mom doesn’t do your laundry for you anymore… Don’t bother.
If your idea of a good time is taking her out to the same bar you always go to and blow her off to get sloppy drunk (again?) with the same buddies you’ve hung out with for the last 25 years who have also not changed or grown at all… don’t bother.
If you can remember more details about a porn star that you’ve never met but cannot remember Marci’s eye color… don’t bother.
If you have a MySpace that reads like a 13 year old girl, filled with angst, self-pity and projections of your own delusional state… don’t bother.
If your in-head display screen sexual fantasies involve submissive, air-headed bimbos that belong in a hentai movie and the sheer thought of a powerful, confident woman makes you pee a little… don’t bother.
If she can beat you arm-wrestling… don’t bother.
If your on-line life is more interesting than you are… don’t bother.
If you don’t have your shit together and “Marci can be the rock I need”… don’t bother. (P.S. If you need fixing… go to a vet.)
If the most reading you do involves the walk-through of a video-game… don’t bother.
If to you “politics” means “multiple arachnids”… don’t bother. (Although the bloodsucker analogy does track…)
If you think Alice Cooper is too old to rock and roll… don’t bother.
In closing;
Marci is not a playground but she can be a lot of fun. She won’t be treated lightly but she’s not so serious that she can’t laugh. (And by the way, the prize of her laugh is one I relish collecting. If you have the skills to make her lose her shit laughing, you’ll know what I mean. Glorious.)
The man-child approaching this situation had better just follow the instincts that have kept him so well into his 30’s.
Be afraid. Walk away. Pretend it doesn’t bother you. Secretly be grateful you have not been physically emasculated. Even if emotionally you already are.
Careful boys, you’re walking into the wolf’s den. And you’d better know where to scratch this one to make it happy. Otherwise she’ll bite.
And if you’re lucky… she will.
(C’mon Marci… it’s me. You knew I had to get a dirty dig in there somewhere.)
JavaElemental Reply:
April 19th, 2008 at 12:38 pm
Marci is not a playground but she can be a lot of fun.
*LMAO* Nice!
“Man-children” need not apply, for future reference. Maybe I’ll make up a job application style of thing. A “dating application”. I can go over it with the poor gentleman in question on the first date, and make it just like a real interview. First dates have always struck me as about as much fun as job interviews anyways.
April 24th, 2008 at 8:02 pm
Knowing you in real life– i recommend sarah as a make up guru–though I know for a fact that her casual , untouched looking hair takes about two hours to be made to look that way–and i am pretty sure you dont want to invest the time.
get out, get a little sun, put down the double barrel shotgun and they willbe beating a path to your door, sweetie–the problem isnt finding and attracting them–its keeping them from pestering you, and always apply my seven rules–no exceptions!