TRUTH about cats & dogs

“It’s a given that all men are dogs. What differentiates each guy is how much dog is in him.”

I barely settle into my side of the cab and my college buddy starts barking his version of conventional dating wisdom at me.

“I suggest you tap into me to discern the purebreds from the strays in your life and NOT that silly book by Steve Harvey.” Davis glances down at the three copies I’ve got carefully tucked in a clear plastic bag for my gal pals. He’s determined to squeeze in brunch by the Bay before heading back to Tulsa. “You know a good guy will come along when you least expect it, or are looking for it.”

It’s obvious he’s caught wind of my recent internet dating fiasco. I suspected as much when both he and the girls were quite insistent that we meet up on this not-so-sunny Sunday morning. I try to fill him in on my latest mismatch: Mr. Persistent-turned-less-Consistent.

“Well, that could be a sign, but it also could be something came up.” Davis runs his hand through his chin length hair. Looks at my expectant expression and pinches my nose before it can wrinkle. “You should never read too much into what men do, because, quite frankly, we don’t know what the hell we are doing in most cases.”

“It just throws me for a loop. I like it when guys do what they say they’ll do. I thought we had that. It’s what I liked the most about him.” So I thought. I am SUCH the SUCKER.

“The guys you select just don’t know real talent when they have it in their grasp.” He shakes his wavy locks. “It’s just a shame.”

“You’re being sweet because you’re my friend.” My mood matches the forecast. It doesn’t help that I’m not a morning person.

“No. I’m telling you because you’re missing the point. The one thing I do know is that the more you women like a man, the more they get all scared.”

“Who does?” Davis wags his finger between himself and the driver. The driver glances back at us through his rear view mirror, his eyes crinkle in agreement. He’s got great laugh lines. He’s also got on a ring. On his left hand. Guess he’s not one of the strays.

Davis rubs the steamy window with his elbow. He squints at the street signs up ahead. “Make yourself a little mysterious. We love a good mystery.”

Here we go again. “I don’t get it.”

“Look, you know I think you are the sweetest woman I have ever met. Just real thoughtful and nice. And I am a total prick.” Davis guffaws. Maybe that’s a mark of a real man in the Midwest. Someone not afraid to carry around, then empty out, belly fulls of laughter everywhere he goes.

“So if I see it, you know darn well those soft guys you like will notice it, too.” He laughs out loud again at the look of horror I can’t seem to squelch these days. “The old adage, ‘don’t mistake kindness for weakness’ perhaps.”

This time, I groan loudly. “I barely know how to flirt as it is. Now that I’ve sorta got that down, what next?”

“What you have to do is be interested, but not seem interested. It’s a fine line to walk, but be more cat-like than dog-like.”

“What’choo talkin’ ’bout Willis?” The rain’s pounding on the cab’s rooftop now, matching the rhythmic thudding of my heart.

“You ever notice how a dog runs up to you when you come home?” I nod. He smiles. Doesn’t skip a beat and continues: “But a cat. Oh my, a cat does not seek you out. A cat has to be found.”

The gentle drum of the rain onto the roof of our cab does nothing to drown out Ra Ra Riot’s refrain ringing in my head …my bed’s too big for just me… I shake my head. Hard.

“Be more like a cat.” Just for the record, I abhor cats. Of any kind. Maybe it’s because I’m deathly allergic. “You are sweet with a heart of gold, but not every guy needs to know that from the start. And, lastly, mix it up just a little bit. Maybe you need to be more selective. A lot more selective.” No kidding.

It’s my turn to stare out the window. It’s all fogged up. So is the story of my current dating situation. Gotta love it.

“Just don’t play your hand too fast is all.” Davis hands the driver a twenty and slips out of the cab. He opens his umbrella and holds out his hand towards me. “Quality women usually get quality men. It just does not happen on the time table you may have set for yourself.”


What do you think? Leave a comment!

If you enjoyed this post, please leave a comment or subscribe to the feed to get future articles delivered to your feed reader.

Comments

“You should never read too much into what men do, because, quite frankly, we don’t know what the hell we are doing in most cases.”

Truer words have rarely been spoken.

“What you have to do is be interested, but not seem interested. It’s a fine line to walk, but be more cat-like than dog-like.”

Hmmm…I’d agree with that, in theory. The goal is to encourage the men you want to pursue you. Pursuit theory, the possibility of sex – different names, same goals. You want the man to think that you’re very picky, but that he might have a chance. That you’re a real prize, but he might just be lucky enough to get it.

The only problem with this is that many bay-area dwelling males can barely be called men. This strategy only works if men are willing to go for it.

do quality women get quality men? i am sure they do. but of course these women are also bound to be a magnet for all the low quality guys. provided the low quality guys are more aggressive in the dating context (and desperation tends to sharpen aggressiveness) they will tend to put a barrier around the quality women and make it seem as though there are no quality guys waiting to be found on the other side of it. so yeah, it may take the quality woman longer to find the guy she is looking for. – Stephen

@JOSH: Sorry for the sabbatical. Wanted to jump back into keeping the conversation(s) open with you. In this case? True RE: Bay Area dwelling males. Tons of my gal pals are griping over how few Bay Area *men* exist out there.

@STEPHEN: In terms of quality — you’d think quality women would wise up and be able to assess the low from the high. It really does take those extra set(s) of filters to figure out how best to go about meeting AND keeping those quality folks that are getting tougher to come by.

Liquored up — these same ladies lose all ability to figure ANYTHING out.

I learned a few things here.
I have to be a dog or I’m not a man.
I have to be interested but act like I’m not interested.
And I need chin length hair…

“Quality women usually get quality men”, I don’t know how to react with this statement. I mean how do you as a woman, how do you gauge for yourself that you are indeed a “quality woman”. Any points to ponder on?

Leave a comment

(required)

(required)