Thursday 6 June 2013

The Crassest Question A Woman Can Ask

The crassest question a woman can ask a man: "What do you do for a living?"

Why is this crass?

Okay, we know that a woman is always looking for a guy with money. The more the better, it's one of the female safety-nets: to marry a guy with money so that she doesn't have to work and can pump-out and bring up kidlets. We get it, and there's even justification for it in the overall view of things (society and evolutionary).

Every guy knows, on a subconscious level at least, that a woman asking that question is asking: "How much money do you make?" This always comes up amongst the first questions a woman asks a guy upon meeting.

The clued-in guy knows that there is a sub-sub-textual question as well: "Are you worth talking to and getting to know?"

To clarify the chain of questions here. Question: "What do you do for a living?" Sub-question: "How much money do you make?" Sub-sub-question: "Are you worth talking to and getting to know?"

That's like a man saying to her: "Do you swallow?"

Very crass.

So, last night I go to dance dressed well. Normally it's ordinary stuff, jeans and t-shirt, sports jacket. Tonight it's different. Black pants, black shirt, black jacket (a full suit basically) all of them slim-fit. I look damn sharp and I know it. Several girls remarked on it too, including the bartender girl at after-dance drinks. She made the special effort to say hello from the other end of the bar. The bouncer made a special hello to me.

It doesn't matter because as a professional businessman, good dancer, and sharp dresser in a suit, I completely outrank everyone at dance and in the bar. I am King in this context and I'm making it plain to all and sundry. That arrogant confidence is there and completely justified.

After the class and the social drink, on the way back to the car. I've made a little space for some casual conversation with this 30-year-old dancer girl. Some pleasant nothings, then she turns and says to me: "I know that I've asked this a couple of times, but where do you work?"

I was so surprised that I flat-out told her: "I work at X, on million-dollar computer equipment." That's my cover-story, because I don't like people knowing that I'm a businessman. As it was I'd given out more than I normally would.

If I'd had my wits about me I'd have given her shit in a charming manner for forgetting what I do and having to ask me a third time. After teasing her for five minutes I'd have finally given her what she was wanting to know. Lost opportunity, too bad.

Now, not only is what she said crass, it's fucking insulting. As if all of a sudden I'm worth trying to get to know better, where before I was not - and very overt about it too. So let us see here.

Socially awkward in that moment. You have failed.

I am already aware of my value: tremendously higher than yours. You have failed.

Obviously only properly interested in me the moment I look to have money. You have failed.

Couldn't even figure out how to have a further meaningful conversation with me. You have failed.

If you had not been so crassly overt, I was about to ask you a few things and gauge your level of interest. However, you already answered that - plus made it very plain to me how you think of me, in a covert and insulting and graceless manner. On top of that, unmistakably showing how far beneath me you actually are - both in your mind as well as reality.

For the "superior sex" when it comes to communicating, you sure blew it big time. Any hand that you could possibly have had with respect to me is gone, blasted, completely nuked through your own mindfuck moment.

Hamster eviscerated, cleaned, and hung up to dry. How nice to have your greedy motivations so eloquently displayed.

Addendum: an extra thought. Underpinning this question(s) is an entitlement mentality that makes it perfectly okay to ask this question, and the woman to expect an answer. As if the woman is entitled to that knowledge solely so that she can evaluate your potential as a worthy man to have around.

Yeh. So. Do you swallow?

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