One of the qualities that God blessed me with was a cavalier attitude. I take things seriously, provided I feel like it and it will directly benefit me. Like many men, my favorite type of women were dumb, hot ones. They did not ask questions, they did not prattle on endlessly, and they made for great arm candy. Yet despite my best attempts to avoid growing as a person, I started gravitaing towards women of substance. This was not a happy decision.
I remember being 18 and attending a Jewish university. Some of us would go to Mount Saint Mary’s in the pickup truck, trolling for what we called a “taste of catholicism.” We would arrive before their classes started and ask the girls “How many of you are Catholic?” They would look at us like it was a trick question, at which point I became delighted, knowing they were even dumber than we initially suspected. We would ask the question again, and all of the girls would raise their hands. We then asked how many of them were disgusted by this fact. Three or four women would have their hands up, and we would tell them “get in the truck. It’s conversion time.” How I miss those days.
Upon reading an article by some feminist writer who criticized the Spice Girls (Anyone who criticizes Posh Spice for any reason should be shot. David Beckham is proof of why getting rich is vital in a capitalist society). This writer explained that girls should use their brains to attract boys. While initially dismissed this as nonsense, her point about men was valid. “Of course boys get excited about what is up a girl’s skirt between her legs. Who cares? They also get excited over jelly donuts.”
I realized that this woman was 100% correct. Then I forgot what the article was about as I thought “You know, I could use a jelly donut.” However, the advice she offered did not resonate for too long, because thankfully I was given a short attention span (MTV rocked!). The problem was not that the smart women were doing anything right. It was that the dumb women could not stop doing things wrong. The smart women were winning by default.
When I was dating an arm candy moppet several years back, everything came to a head when a group of 12 of us were sitting around the table discussing Middle Eastern politics. She wanted to talk about Britney Spears’s Pepsi commercial. I broke up with her the next day. The problem with dumb girls is they do not know when to be dumb and quiet. The sex was fine, but every once in awhile an intelligent conversation would be necessary.
Things got worse when I tried to relax by my building’s jacuzzi one night. A woman, drunk, giggling, and popping out of her top (normally a trifecta of delight) asked me if I lived in the building. When I replied that I did, she told me that she found that very hard to believe. She said “I have a friend who looks just like you, and he does not live here.” I did not have a shotgun within reach, and I was hoping she would simply let her chest do the talking for her. I explained that I was a different person. She pointed out that I had a different name than her friend, a different career, and had a different accent. After I repeatedly pointed out she had the wrong guy, she looked at me intensely, close enough for me to go “motorboarding” between her, and asked me “Tell me the truth. Who are you?” In a desperate attempt to end the conversation, in my worst tv superhero impersonation I replied “I’m Batman.” At this point she scolded me and said “No you are not. You are not Batman. You lied to me. Everything you have said to me is a lie. You don’t even live here.”
While pounding my fist in frustration at the realization that I had to listen to her and she would not be getting naked (the worst of all combinations), I thought “Maybe she is right. Maybe I don’t live here.”
I once fell for a woman who had laryngitis, but then she got her voice back. I wondered what it would be like to date one of those women who had their tongues cut out during the war. It must cut down on backtalk.
Somewhere along the line I began running into women who, despite being intelligent, were not insufferable. I met women who were smart and assertive, but not lesbians. Conversations took place that actually had value. Some of these women even had morals as loose as their dumber counterparts (although still not as loose as mine, unfortunately).
I guess people need to give eachother a chance. If blacks and whites can sing “we shall overcome,” and the Catholics and Protestants can reach peace in Northern Ireland, and James Carville can marry Mary Matalin (boy did he luck out), then I owe it to myself to date smart women…besides, if they nag me, I can always find a dumb one that is too dumb to argue.
eric