Spend any time around women, especially young women, and you’ll find that a lot of them are really down on themselves. A couple of days ago I was in an ‘irish’ pub in Shinjuku just meeting people. There were as usual lots of foreigners there so there was about a 50 -50 split in the clientele by nationality. I went there after meeting a westerner in Wendy’s; a well educated ballet dancer from husky team country way up just east of Alaska.
The pub is a place where you can just walk up and start talking to people, and they can walk up and start talking to you, which unfortunately means you have to put up with the odd asshole. Of the people we met there was an American builder who has done work all over and an electrician from the Maldives. The former was an ok guy, the second seemed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of every cheap, sleazy dive within a 5 mile radius of where I was sitting. There’s something incredibly disturbing for me about men who see women as meat. I got a brief recital of the sleazy and degrading things that could be found in Shinjuku if you were so inclined to look.
I started speaking to a 24 year old girl, who I would say was nothing great in the looks department, but hey when you yourself look like Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story you’re not really in a position to throw stones. I’m no Keanu Reeves and am reconciled with the fact that I never shall be. I have other qualities. Surprisingly someone told me every time they see Leonidas in ‘300′ that they think of me. Apparently I am a bit of a bruiser.
Anyway, after a while it became clear that she spent a great deal of time comparing herself to the button nosed, big breasted waifs of Japanese adolescent fantasy, and found herself severely wanting in the looks department. Now that I think about it, it could be that men measure themselves against the kind of girl they believe they can realistically chase down whereas women seem to measure themselves against air brushed glamor photos. God, I think it must be pretty harsh being a woman. If that were not enough Japan is a man’s country. Anthony, my ballet friend, told me that in other countries the ballerina is the star, whereas in Japan the lead male dancer is the star. I think that gives you a fair indication of what Japan is like. The ballerinas in the background have to pay to get on stage.
My experience with women generally supports the proposition that if you make her feel good about herself she will really, really like you. I agree with what Brad Pitt said in the movie “Meet Mr. Black” – Why shouldn’t you take care of a woman she takes care of you”. I think that’s a bit understated. In my experience doing something nice for, or to, a woman generally means you’ll get it back in spades. It’s a return on investment that Warren Buffet would envy.
She said it was a pity that I was married, despite the fact that I’m 15 years older than she is, with advancing decrepitude creeping up on me. Sometimes I have to wonder about my own gender as well. How can you treat a woman badly on purpose?
Anyway she told me her mouth was too big, by which she meant it wasn’t the little strawberry bud of manga fantasy. She had a nice smile, it was a big smile too. They could have turned off the lights in our corner. And it was this that she had a complex about. She said she was overweight, by which I assumed she meant that when she was in the buff I wouldn’t be able to play Xylophone on her ribcage. She was nice, sweet and clever. I told her she should get out of Japan and find a nice western man who would appreciate her the way she should be appreciated.
Sometimes you meet a woman when she’s on the rebound from a total jerk. Sadly there are a lot of men out there who fit into that category. Strange as it may seem I think there’s a lot of men who like sex but who don’t like women. That’s not just appalling, it also makes no sense. Every man should know how to sing a romantic song and be happy to sing it to his woman. I know three or four. My personal favorites at the moment are “You don’t know me” by Ray Charles and “Remember me” as sung by Leanne Rimes. Once she knows you then you can sing “I got a woman” by Ray Charles, which underlines that you’re not a simpering romantic, but a gruff male who just knows how to be tender.
It’s been my experience that girls on the rebound from a jerk will start crying when you sing to them. That kind of emotional release is good, but as Spider Man keeps saying, “with great power comes great responsibility”.
