The Truth about Bad Women
If men are a weird bunch, well, there is a school of thought that says that women are even weirder. Here, we profile the Kind Of Women Not To Have Sex With. Well, is a single night of what you thought might be bliss really worth a lifetime of agony?
Anne Sexton, 19 Mar 2010
Men, it has to be said, are a strange bunch. So strange that not that long ago I dedicated an entire column to the weirdos, freaks and geeks that ladies encounter on an all too frequent basis (You can find it, and many other delightful things, on hotpress.com).
I was chatting to a male friend the other day and I realised that perhaps I had been a tad biased. He had a tale or two about perfidious, difficult women, which forced me to admit that although we may be the fairer sex, at times, while women may often be electric, they are no picnic either.
Indeed, women can be demanding, impossible to please, moody, and at certain times of the month, verging on the clinically psychopathic. On occasion, we’ll accept your drinks, then give you the cold shoulder; cackle at your bungled attempts at courtship; treat you with disdain; flirt with your friends; and be downright rude. I say “we” but obviously I don’t mean me; of course not, I’m always charming!*
What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, so in the interests of fair and balanced journalism, I thought that this week I’d turn the tables and cast my gimlet eye on the girls. Be afraid, ladies, be very afraid.
BARGAIN BASEMENT BEYONCÉ
Normal human beings cannot do the Beyoncé butt shake. Fact. But that doesn’t stop some girls from trying. While most women underestimate their attractions, this girl thinks she’s hot stuff and she’s got the moves to prove it. Granted, everyone is looking at her, but in her alcopop-induced fog of self-delusion she hasn’t noticed that it’s shock, not awe. Her beer goggles are firmly fixated on her own glorious self – the more she drinks, the better looking she becomes.
THE MAN-HATER
“What I don’t get,” said my friend Mr H in a thoughtful mood one night, “are the girls that tell you that all men are bastards, and then complain that they don’t have a boyfriend.” Yep, I don’t get that one either. Here is the most basic rule of social interaction: if you want people to respect you, you’ve gotta give ‘em some respect. The Man-Hater has forgotten this so she rarely gets laid let alone a second or third date. She spends Saturday nights stewing in vitriol and vodka and frightening off the men brave enough to approach her, and Sunday mornings scowling at couples as they buy the papers and croissants. “Why don’t I have that?” she wonders as she elbows the bloke in front of her out of the way and glares at the cashier, “It’s not fair!”
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