The Needs of Commitment

People are odd little creatures when you look at us. We insist on some sort of dualistic relationship when our closest living relations are polyamorous poo-flingers, hanging out in the jungles all day trying to get laid. Which sounds only slightly more civilized than any bar on ladies night.

Back to our own peculiarities, commitments and committed relationships are odd for primates and yet we still hold that these are the highest and most noble of all relationships with any being other than our Divine. This seems to work out pretty well for most Americans, regardless of the government's interference, and I have no objections to this system of relating. I do have a problem with those who abuse this system to the detriment of others, specifically my detriment.

If you're in a committed relationship, you had best make damn sure that you understand and respond to the needs of the other. You are also responsible for ensuring that your needs are properly communicated. Because I am sick and fucking tired of wasting my A game with women who aggressively flirt with me and grab my interest and then flounce off to their lump of shit on a sofa that they call honey.

Case in point: I am sitting at work, minding my book, when a cute blonde with twinkling eyes walks by and harasses the shit out of me for my choice of book. I'll paraphrase:

Her: Look, friends! This man is an asshole! (Waves at me) He is reading a book that offends me, thus he is an asshole much like the man I am with but without tonight!

Me: Who the fuck are you that disturbs my quiet reading of this amusing book?

Her: I am one who disturbs and demands you justify your actions!

Me: I see no material reason to justify anything, but you are attractive and I am just arrogant enough to condescend and say, your opinion of me is worthless.

Her: How dare you ignore my reprobation!?

Me: Quite easily, shall we discuss this at length at another time of our choosing? Give me your number and you might convince me of my error.

Her: (Stares at me in amazement, before smiling briefly) I sniff in disdain at you.

Then the manager seats them in my section. The witty banter continues, I was using Classic Gambit #3: Asshole Who Reveals. She smiles, and winks at me at the end of each brief session of repartee. This went quite well until she accidentally mentioned a "Jimmy." Being no fool, I recognize immediately the significance of "Jimmy" and cease the contest. As she leaves, I ask her to say hi to Jimmy for me. To which she gasps, gapes, and blushes.

Fuck you, Jimmy. You aren't giving her what she needs, so she ventures out and takes it from those innocents willing to speak with her. She is almost as bad as you because she stays with you without communicating her needs, or despite your obvious lack of regard for her. So fuck you, Jimmy, and the horse you rode in on. Fuck you, your parents for not teaching you, and fuck your grandparents for not slapping your parents when they saw what was happening.

One final note: if you're gonna give a fake name, don't hesitate and break eye contact while you think, and then slowly say, "Starla?" I can not respect bad liars.