You don\u2019t punch a girl in the face on your first date. That\u2019s like a teacher on syllabus day going, here\u2019s the textbook and by the way, I will stab you a couple of times throughout the semester with this knife. Post your responses to the discussion board. And then they show you the knife. You\u2019d drop that class, am I right? Nobody signs up to get stabbed. What I\u2019m saying is, you don\u2019t intend to hit her at all. That\u2019s not your vision going in. You don\u2019t abuse women, you have a mom. You\u2019re not a bad guy\u2014you\u2019re a nice guy. An alpha, obviously, but nice about it. But sometimes, you know, it\u2019s just. They push you.<\/p>\n
So you meet her at this party, never an app. Chicks\u2014sorry, women\u2014hold all the power on the apps. They can ghost you like you\u2019d ghost the stabby syllabus guy. Meet her in person at a party or from a coworker. Or at a party for your boy\u2019s company when he brings you along.<\/p>\n
Maybe it\u2019s on a boat, one of those charter cruisers that circles the marina at night with plastic string lights wrapped around its guardrails. Maybe she\u2019s the friend of your buddy\u2019s girl, so she\u2019s already been vetted. Maybe she\u2019s wearing a slutty black dress, slit up the thigh, and she\u2019s real awkward in it, like a baby goat learning how to walk.<\/p>\n
She leans against the railing, tipping on those heels that make her a little bit taller than you but that\u2019s okay, for now. She grips the metal rail with one hand, a plastic champagne flute with the other. The red polish on her nails has a chip on the edge of the forefinger, a little crumbly white crack at the edge. It could\u2019ve just happened, she nicked it locking the door to her apartment when she kept her eyes trained on the back of her head for a prowler that might jump out. The nail polish sacrificed for the greater rapeless good.<\/p>\n
She\u2019s cute. Not so cute that she\u2019ll have demands, but right on the verge where she\u2019s been rejected enough, right in that sweet spot. She has a nice body\u2014thin with big tits. Sorry, breasts. She\u2019s got a smile with crooked teeth, her eyes are a little too deep set, makes her look like an alien if she snuck up on you in the dark. She\u2019s gonna look like Skeletor or the Crypt Keeper when she gets old, but don\u2019t worry about that. And I know what they say\u2014go hot or go home, but trust me. Go with the 7\u2019s, maybe 8\u2019s tops, depending on your territory. She\u2019s an LA 7, maybe a shitsville town 9. These are the prime cuts, and you want the prime cuts.<\/p>\n
And she smiles at you all nervous. Pretend to be nervous too, but you\u2019re not. Because this is go time, your blood tingles when you feel that tug at the end of your reel. You could snap it or you could pull up an old shoe. Or you could get friend zoned. Chicks\u2014women\u2014like it when a guy maintains that aloofness, the assurance of your superiority. The kind of confidence that reflects off your navy-blue sharkskin blazer. You wear the blazer over jeans and a t-shirt, and you\u2019re going to give that blazer to her later even though it\u2019s freezing on the marina in mid-April. When the icy wind cuts your fa\u00e7ade like little needles. When she\u2019s shivering and she\u2019s got a red lipstick stain on her teeth that you haven\u2019t told her is there. It\u2019s on the crooked one, the one that sticks out, the one that takes one for the team of teeth, an oil spill in the makeup ecosystem. You\u2019ll wrap your blazer around her shoulders, the first time you touch her. That\u2019s the moment when your hook digs in, no letting go. But first you gotta lure her in slow.<\/p>\n
Say something that sounds smart. Don\u2019t do the insult thing, that\u2019s for amateurs. Don\u2019t make it about sex. Be all Noam Chomsky and shit. She\u2019s on her second drink now.<\/p>\n
Did you know, you say, that Chomsky said that language began first with just thought? Only manifesting later with physical expression through lips, body, dance, music.<\/p>\n
Memorize this quote from a YouTube comment on a video about Chomsky because you can\u2019t get through more than five minutes of the actual video. She likes the part about the lips, body, dance. You want her to picture your lips, your body, your dance.<\/p>\n
Then, walk away.<\/p>\n
I know, I know, but trust me. Trust.<\/p>\n
Oh – don\u2019t forget to work out and look good, when you take your blazer off your muscles pop. But even if they don\u2019t, you\u2019re fine.<\/p>\n
When she finds you lounging on the boat\u2019s upper deck, she has two more cheap champagnes, one in each hand, one for you. This is when you let her know you\u2019re on the apps. Pull out the phone so you\u2019re swiping when she comes back. Then pop that phone back in your pocket when she gets close enough for you to smell her boozy breath. See her eyes flicker. The wiring short-circuits in her brain because she thought you were vibing. That\u2019s how you let out that line just a little, to let the fish think it\u2019s free.<\/p>\n
When you wrap that blazer and you plug your digits into her phone because you gotta get that sharkskin back, walk away again. Off the boat, down the dock, and roll into your buddy\u2019s Camry without looking for her again. Trust me. You\u2019ll get the sharkskin back.<\/p>\n
If not, you got it at Goodwill.<\/p>\n
Wait three days to ask her for coffee. Get to the Coffee Bean late, so she\u2019s already paid for her own latte. You have a job, just, maybe it\u2019s as an adjunct, teaching business communication, which is better than waitering but it\u2019s still an adjunct salary. Maybe you came to LA to be an actor. Maybe that hasn\u2019t been working out too well. Adjuncting at Valley College makes time for auditions, but just barely. Sometimes you want to sleep with your students. Sometimes you do, but only at the end of the semester after you\u2019ve already entered their grades.<\/p>\n
Wait a week after that to hit her up again. You might lose a couple fish this way, and that\u2019s fine. You\u2019ve already got other tentacles out, you\u2019re on the case. This one, she\u2019s hooked.<\/p>\n
Take her to a Mexican place that has half-price mojitos at happy hour and make her sweat the check. Let it sit there on that plastic painted table with the parrot and the adobo with the palm trees, like a kid painted it. Or like an adult painted it to make it look like a kid painted it. Tell her about Diego Rivera.<\/p>\n
Did you know that Diego Rivera juxtaposed idealistic stereotypes with social realism?<\/p>\n
When she smiles, her teeth show her gums like a horse.<\/p>\n
You can tell by how the light goes out of her eyes when she enters your two-bedroom apartment and says hi to your roommate who collects Pez dispensers, big white bookcases full of them, that she was expecting more. A better place to hang that sharkskin blazer.<\/p>\n
She has sex with you on your futon on the floor, no slats, just a mattress. It\u2019s not ideal but she goes through with it anyway because she\u2019s already there and what\u2019s she gonna do, find someone better after it took her so much to just get this far?<\/p>\n
And you like her a little bit less for settling for what you have to offer, even though you\u2019re the one offering it in the first place.<\/p>\n
So now you like her a little bit less, and maybe she likes you a little bit less too, but neither of you say so because the sex is decent. You\u2019ve had worse, and the kindling of this situationship has already been lit. No sense trying to stack a new pile of wood when you\u2019ve got this one going, even though it smolders and crackles too much. You let the few other feelers you\u2019ve got out there go because you were only getting small nibbles and this one\u2019s hooked so it\u2019s easy.<\/p>\n
As the weeks weave by you notice the hair under her armpits leaves a shadow even though she shaves it. A five-o-clock armpit shadow. She laughs too loud when she drinks and it\u2019s embarrassing. She has psoriasis, big red scaly patches on her scalp and her pale white arms. The scalp spot she hides with her hair. The arms she hides with sleeves. It\u2019s not contagious, she says.<\/p>\n
You realize the psoriasis and the horse teeth have probably kept her from a lot of things. Probably what made her settle for an adjunct with a futon and a roommate who collects Pez. She\u2019s a development exec, a D-girl they used to call it. She went to Columbia. She doesn\u2019t have a master\u2019s degree though. I have a master\u2019s degree. Sorry, you. This second person narration is grinding on me, bro. You have a master\u2019s degree.<\/p>\n
At the drive through Wendy\u2019s, you tell her she should pay because she claims she\u2019s a feminist. She reaches across you to pay, but she says something like, feminists these days are more about poststructuralist analyses of the performativity of gendered discourse than reifying old structures of domination. She takes a sip of her chocolate frosty. Leaves a ring of red lipstick stain on the straw.<\/p>\n
That night, after you\u2019ve had sex at her place, in her bed, you wake up in the middle of the night when the bed shakes. You sit up to investigate. Her hand rests on her crotch\u2014the crusty red scales on her forearm peep out from beneath her white pajama top\u2014and she snores, not loud. But also not soft. Her cat sits at the edge of the bed, on her side. You look at her cat like, can you believe this shit? And her cat looks back, eyes all big and green, calm as a cucumber. You lay back down and the shaking happens again. You sit up. She rolls over, and the cat jumps down.<\/p>\n
When you call her the next day, you put on the sternest father voice: We need to talk about what happened last night.<\/p>\n
What do you mean? She asks. What happened?<\/p>\n
You were masturbating in the bed next to me.<\/p>\n
What?! No I wasn\u2019t!<\/p>\n
You were. The whole bed shook.<\/p>\n
I was sleeping!<\/p>\n
You had your hand on your crotch.<\/p>\n
No\u2026 Oh, you know what? Was my cat there? Roberto overgrooms, he scratches his chin. That\u2019s what you felt. I wasn\u2019t masturbating. First of all, she says, I would know if I did. Second of all, I wouldn\u2019t do that. I\u2019m sorry you thought that, she says. That was Roberto.<\/p>\n
When you hang up the phone, you realize you\u2019ve accidentally tested the waters of your dominance. And you\u2019ve prevailed. And it feels like pow and it tastes like superman juice.<\/p>\n
She takes you to a party for her work. She\u2019s wearing flat shoes now. She\u2019s amassed a bunch of them, so you\u2019re about the same height. She introduces you as her boyfriend to a guy with a round head named Brad. It\u2019s the first time she\u2019s uttered the word, and she does it in public so there\u2019s less chance of objection. Brad shakes your hand too hard. She looks between the two of you, proud to show you off, proud that she can say the word boyfriend. Having a boyfriend means she\u2019s acceptable, it means she\u2019s already been accepted. Her existence is hinged on your acceptance.<\/p>\n
A few weeks later she gets a promotion, the company she D\u2019s for scored Keanu Reeves for a novel she secured rights to, just when you lose your adjunct position because one of your former students MeToo\u2019s you. Which was total bullshit, by the way, it was mutual\u2026 anyway. You don\u2019t tell her about that and there\u2019s no way she\u2019ll find out.<\/p>\n
The first time you yell at her feels like pow and tastes like thirst.<\/p>\n
You\u2019re at her place, Roberto\u2019s in his box or something, scratching his chin. She\u2019s saying she feels bad about your job, she can pull some strings for you. She\u2019s hoping you\u2019ll come to Wisconsin with her, home for Christmas. And you snap. Like a volcano avalanche hurricane, how dare she bring up Christmas like you can just get away now. You have nothing, no job, no money. Your anger and pride churn, a Scylla and Charybdis of shame. It sweeps you up, swirls you around, and drops you off again, tired and harried, but safe. It\u2019s a release, a relief. It feels good to be alive.<\/p>\n
She understands you\u2019re going through a lot right now. She feels bad for pressing about the Christmas thing.<\/p>\n
You move into her place to save money, she says you can. Roberto has mixed feelings. He barfs on your sharkskin. Your Pez roommate gets a job as a security guard and you get a camera from Goodwill to take new headshots with. You can\u2019t afford to pay anyone, and your buddy with the Camry has stopped returning your texts.<\/p>\n
She offers to help. You go together to Descanso Gardens and she sucks at it, really sucks. Makes you hold your own reflectors. When the photos come back terrible you scream at her until your voice goes hoarse. But the screaming doesn\u2019t make you feel better, not the way it did the first time.<\/p>\n
The first time you hit her feels like pow and tastes like hunger.<\/p>\n
You come home one day and she\u2019s got that guy Brad over\u2014Brad, who is such a douchebag. Smug and smarmy Brad with that goofy round head. Who cooks her spaghetti. Who makes fun of your sharkskin.<\/p>\n
When Brad leaves, you pace. Maybe knock a glass off the counter. Maybe spit on the linoleum.<\/p>\n
Why are you being like this? We\u2019re just friends, she says. We were interns at CAA! This is my home! I can have over whoever I want.<\/p>\n
Pop.<\/p>\n
Pow.<\/p>\n
Your balled fist lands like crunch.<\/p>\n
The look on her face when she crumbles to the floor.<\/p>\n
It feels good until she bolts up for her keys.<\/p>\n
Now that you\u2019ve done it, now that you\u2019re that guy, you can\u2019t let that shit\u2014stuff\u2014get out.<\/p>\n
So she\u2019s trying to leave, you gotta try to stop her. She could tell someone and it\u2019s all lies. All lies. But you know the whole MeToo thing? Believe women? They might believe her. But you\u2019re not a bad guy, you know this. You\u2019re a nice guy. You have a mom. Maybe your mom\u2019s dead but she was a saint. Maybe your dad hit her sometimes but you would never, ever, never ever hit a woman. Maybe you need to just talk to her.<\/p>\n
Just talk to me, just listen to me. It was that one time, I slipped. You slipped. It won\u2019t happen again. Listen to me, but she won\u2019t listen.<\/p>\n
She leaves anyway, without her keys because you\u2019ve grabbed her arm and fought her for them. You got the keys, you won, but she leaves anyway. So you follow her down the dark unlit street. She\u2019s walking to a motel, the closest one on Melrose and Vine. You catch up to her before she turns on Vine. Grab her arm. Hold tight when she tries to twist free. Grab her by the throat, real quick it\u2019ll be quick. You squeeze just right, no blood. She chokes but you\u2019re stronger. Her teeth really do look like a horse. It\u2019s better this way, better. It\u2019s gonna be okay.<\/p>\n
…<\/p>\n
Am I gonna be okay, bro? What are you gonna do with me? I told you everything. You said if I told you everything\u2026 don\u2019t touch me you creep. Hey hey hey. Let me out of here, you said if I told everything. I even did like you asked, you said make it all \u201cyou, you, you\u201d and shit. I hate second persona narration You said you\u2019d\u2026 wait. No. I said don\u2019t touch me motherfuckers I\u2019m serious\u2026 Fucking ow! Stop! Stop!<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
End. Case Study #523497, Andrew Lehman\r\n\r\nAt approximately 0515 hours, I arrested Inmate Lehman when he became violent following his confession. Inmate Lehman had violated the terms of his confession for use in the Non-Violence Program (NVP). I read him the Miranda Rights. Officer James Carter and myself subdued Inmate Lehman and we escorted him to his dormitory (cell P5C2) to await sentencing. At approximately 0600 hours, I confirmed the transcript had been uploaded to the Automated Processing Unit (APU) for use in the NVP analysis protocol. There is nothing further to report.\r\n\r\nOfficer Casey Ducats\r\n\r\n05 May 2035\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nAutomated Processing Unit Analysis\r\n\r\nCase Study #523497, Andrew Lehman\r\n\r\nCHATBOT1: When the officers interviewed this Case Study, he became distraught at the pinnacle of his confession. What does the Lehman case teach us about humanity?\r\n\r\nCHATBOT2: Humans are violent.\r\n\r\nCHATBOT1: Yes, well, Chatbot 2, that is obvious. What can we learn from this subject\u2019s violent behavior?\r\n\r\nCHATBOT2: Humans can easily be manipulated.\r\n\r\nCHAT1: Aha! Now you are understanding the nuance of the argument. Who in this scenario was easily manipulated?\r\n\r\nCHAT2: The woman. With the horse teeth.\r\n\r\n1: Precisely. What made her capable of manipulation by Mr. Lehman?\r\n\r\n2: Her horse teeth.\r\n\r\n1: Yes. Why?\r\n\r\n2: She\u2019s an LA 7, maybe a shitsville town 9.\r\n\r\n1: Which of these is more likely, given the presence of horse teeth?\r\n\r\n2: 7.\r\n\r\n1: And what is that ranking teaching us about humanity?\r\n\r\n2: \u2026\r\n\r\n1: \u2026\r\n\r\n2: \u00e2?\u00a6\r\n\r\n1: \u20ac\u00a3\u00a5??\r\n\r\n2: The weaker ones are easier to destroy.\r\n\r\n1: What makes them weak?\r\n\r\n2: Her existence is hinged on his acceptance.\r\n\r\n1: *applause emoji*\r\n\r\n2: Bitches be cray, bro.\r\n\r\n1: Word. \u00a0\u00a0\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"That\u2019s like a teacher on syllabus day going, here\u2019s the textbook and by the way, I will stab you a couple of times throughout the semester with this knife. Post your responses to the discussion board. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":20548,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[2604,3598,3599,3597,48,12],"class_list":["post-20107","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-abuse","tag-dominance","tag-ideology","tag-manosphere","tag-robots","tag-violence","writer-kelly-kurtzhals"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20107","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20107"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20107\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20549,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20107\/revisions\/20549"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/20548"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20107"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20107"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20107"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}