My theory is that every girl has a specific type of guy she attracts: tall, cocky, innocent, immature, too mature, players, jackasses, genuine keepers… The list is endless.
So after having looked back on all of my previous relationships, I’ve come to realise that most of the men I have dated have turned out to be patriots of the Kingdom of Jackass. Now I’m not saying that every single one of them came from this mythical land, where mixed signals and deceptive behaviour prevails, but a great majority have.
Surely, this series of frustrating relations is not the doing of some greater universal force, but rather a consequence of the way I have been conducting myself in society. Could I be doing something that is particularly attractive to the hub of douchebaggery that has, no doubt, head-quartered itself in Sydney?
I’ve taken a look at how I met the Assholes of the Round Table, and have come up with a few theories as to why I have been so unlucky:
1. Meeting guys at bars & parties = Bad idea. It’s a meat market. You’re only judged on your looks, and not to mention, the type of men who tend to frequent these venues are just plain dodgey.
2. Not playing the dating game: Some would say that, because I can’t be bothered to play dating games, I am better off. Wrong, because a lot of guys still are. So what does this mean for me? It means it’s hard to recognise the signs of a player working his magic.
3. Inexperience: Having gone to a girl’s high school and taken little interest in boys until those last few years meant that I was particularly inexperienced in the beginning. Thus, I did not know what a good relationship was. I took the shit in my stride. I bore too much. I still can’t cope very well with relationship issues (hence the pathological avoidance of serious relationships)
4. Avoidance of long-term relationships: Yes, this is my own doing. I find it extremely difficult to trust men, no doubt because I have been burned in the past. And thus, we have come to my ultimate problem: dating guys who are also commitment phobes no doubt triples the chances of dating a jackass.
So you see, as I have, that these are self-inflicted injuries.
One can only hope that I can break free of this vicious cycle. In the mean time, there is always chocolate…