This post is dedicated to you, random arts girl, who I occasionally have to interact with.
Fuck, woman, life doesn’t have to be so difficult you know. I realize that this is the first time in a long time that you have interacted with a normal good looking guy who has an aggressive attitude. I don’t intend to be aggressive with you, its just when I’m on a mission, it can’t help but come out.
I know that its hard to be out of control with your emotions, but seeing as you have a slightly butch haircut and dress like an urban lumberjack, I can stereotype and assume, like a man, you have them on lock down. From the second I brazenly approach you, I can see your personality in your eyes. As you turn around and hear my booming voice, you are puzzled, “who could this be?” As I approach, your eyes light up with joy as my masculine features come into resolution. But no sooner, the cesspool of your feminist core spews back at me. Do you detect weakness? Sure you do. I have no interest in your feigned art world, and I need your help temporarily until I can escape. Your eyes turn bitter when you realize that you have turned yourself into a creature that a normal guy cannot be attracted to.
For no apparent reason, you cockblock my mission. Why? It’s not your fault. Your female brain has granted you with a lack of intellectual curiosity, so that despite five years of working in the same department, you still have no idea if you have what I’m looking for. When you fail to answer a simple question, you become defensive when I seek to answer it myself by looking around. Again, that’s just your soiled ego trying to recover in the face of confidence. Rest assured, men like myself make your house of cards beliefs come tumbling down. All you have left is bitterness that is easily drawn out.
At the end of the day, you will remember me when talking amongst your beta-dreadlock-wearing-pierced-tatted-multicultural-peers. We come from different worlds.