WARNING: THE CONTENT OF THIS BLOG IS OF A DEROGATORY AND FACETIOUS NATURE. THE AUTHOR RESERVES THE RIGHT TO PATRONISE, GENERALISE & STEREOTYPE WHOMEVER SHE WANTS AS THIS IS HER BLOG SPACE. ANY COMPLAINTS CAN BE FORWARDED TO OBAMA.
There is an amazing clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy...I’ve experienced an episode or two in my lifetime and while retrospection does nothing for my ego and self-esteem, we live and learn.
So I was stuck in a boring Executive meeting for a large part of the day…and in between listening to the projected maintenance costs for Plant E in 2009, sitting on MXit & checking my email, discussing the corporation’s current and potential obstacles in a global economical slump and daydreaming about chicken wings for lunch, I had an epiphany of sorts. I was running through the list of assholes that have been fortunate enough to feature in a paragraph or two of my life and then it hit me. I’m always attracted to the same kind of asshole. He’s always nice and friendly, intelligent and witty, humorous and quirky…but also as feisty as hell. I like feisty…correction…I LOVE feisty…I don’t know why. I think it appeals to the inner kid in me as I tend to be very playful most of the time. I’m not attracted to guys that are too nice…or guys who try too hard to impress me. Or guys that are egotistical, supercilious or asinine. I always like the guy who engages with me…but I mean like he really talks to ME and is candid, frank, honest, sincere and genuine…he indulges my whims…but he knows who he is and he isn’t trying to be someone else. I love a guy who is confident but not arrogant. I like subtle…cool. I like the excitement too…
I like romance…some candles and a homemade sandwich under the stars. I like shared dreams and pointless conversations. I like Cheshire smiles and butterflies. I like stupid little surprises, like coffee, a teeny weenie wildflower growing on the curb…or heart shaped stones…or the downright quirky and WHACKED…like a tube of toothpaste, a dual can-opener/iPod/Pencil-Sharpener thingy, some PVC…I’m really not hard to please…he just has to bring his true self and his mind and be open to possibilities. No Liars, Cheaters, Spongers/Leeches, Sons and whatnot :D
Which brings me to the sequel of yesterday’s “Asshole” tirade. Now before I continue, I would just like to state that firstly, I’m quite dynamic in nature. Remarkably I am a pessimist at the best of times, an optimist when it suits me and a realist/pragmatist when dealing with other people’s issues. In the Liqui Fruit range, I’d be the Breakfast Punch…an amalgamation of characters. Similarly, whilst some men can be labeled, ridiculed and boxed, there are the exceptions…the “others” that are less simply defined because they too have various degrees of assholiness to their repertoires. Hence you will get those men that encapsulate various characteristics to various extents…for example, he could have 30% of Cheater’s characteristics, 45% of Commitment-Phobe’s characteristics and 25% of the Indecisive-Contradictor’s characteristics etc. etc…you get the point.
So with further reflection, the following are additions to the list:
The Jekyll and Hyde
These men have two distinctive faces. One for the world and one within the confines of their homes. To the world they are either charmers, distinguished gentlemen, suave cultivated guys that ooze sophistication and wit or they are one of those “nice” guys…the guy who is everything that every girl thinks she wants and is what every guy aspires to be. But behind closed doors, in the safety of their homes, surrounded by their families, they are different men. They are either abusers i.e. mental, physical, emotional abusers etc. or they are cognitively absent, checked out from their families ie. They don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves. They are the Freddy Kruger’s of society, every family’s personal nightmare. They parade the “perfection” they call their lives for all and sundry to see, but as soon as they step off that stage, they are monsters. They lack any compassion and desperately need the worlds’ approval and attention to feel worthy and secure. They are cowards in every sense of the word, secretly know that they are worth squat and have to bully everyone around them to feel better about themselves and to prove that they are still “Men”.
Real-life Scenario: Uncle Zubair is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Or so it seems. He is very popular and has many friends. His colleagues call him the “Don”, because he is always on top of his game and has a special way with women. He’s always telling the funniest jokes and is always dressed to the nines. Every guy around him will agree that he’s got to be the coolest middle-aged guy around. If they only knew. Once Uncle Zubair gets home, everything changes like a caterpillar breaking out of its cocoon, but instead of becoming a butterfly, it’s a big fugly-ass dragon-fly. His wife and kids are terrified of him. Last night when he came home he reeked of cheap perfume and when his wife asked him about the lipstick on his collar, she got two slaps, one for asking and one for good measure. Little does he know or realise the damage and havoc he wreaks upon his children…the emotional issues and scars that will stay with them for the rest of their lives. But the poor wife is not an idiot...as the whole community will find out 5 years down the line when she shoots him in the head and makes it look like an accident.
The Best Friend
Some men are just more in touch with their feminine side than others. Now these men are NOT gay, not in the slightest. They just have more female friends than most guys and engage in metro-sexual forms of entertainment. They are true liberals and enjoy every bit of the contemporary world that allows a man to express his feelings and indulge in feminine activities like shopping and buying L’Oreal moisturizing lotion for “Men”. They are quite popular amongst the female population because there are no barriers to break down and they are physically and emotionally available. They are cool and can dispense their diplomatic opinions about everything from cars to bras.
Real-life Scenario: Danyaal’s favourite toy when he was a little boy was the vacuum cleaner. He loved that thing. He would play with it for hours, once even trying to vacuum his pipi to see if it would come off. As he grew, Danyaal found that he had more girl friends than guy friends. He just attracted them naturally; they didn’t judge him and were generally more fun to be with. He secretly liked his best friend, Rahima, but didn’t want to scare her away, so didn’t pursue the object of his affection. He was always the only guy invited to attend “all girl” parties and everyone, including all the parents in the neighbourhood thought that he was secretly gay and harmless. But what they didn’t know about Danyaal is that he is an avid subscriber to Playboy magazine since the age of 14, his stash conveniently located in a box titled “video games” under the stairwell with his mother’s subscription of “Living and Loving”. His emergency stash (the latest issue) is neatly tucked away under his mattress. He loves how the girls hang all over him, and he usually cops a feel without them even noticing. He also loves how they subliminally flirt with him, thinking that they are “safe” with him and from the prying eyes of other pervs.
These men hide behind a solid exterior that cannot be penetrated, not without their permission. But they are usually all mush on the inside, incredibly sensitive creatures and they will never let you see it, they would rather die. They come across hard, cold, indifferent, detached…jaded by life’s experiences and somewhat disillusioned with some aspects of society. They may even come across self-assured and confident, but it’s all a front. They are slightly scared, wary (from life’s experiences) and indecisive but manage to hide it perfectly. They don’t dare express their feelings about anything and prefer to remain emotionally distant. If something tugs at the heart strings, they retreat to a corner to have a private moment, and will re-emerge some time later, composed and stoic, like nothing happened.
Real-life Scenario: Fareed saw the most beautiful girl last week. After arguing with himself for an hour, and then rehearsing what he would say for another half hour, he finally got the courage to approach her. Fatima smiled as he greeted her and they chatted for a while. But then he felt it, that familiar wall he puts up whenever he feels someone getting too close for comfort. He’s been careful since Zaynub broke his heart three years ago. He tells himself that he can’t go through that again…he won’t let another woman do that to him…not again. Fatima could tell that he was uneasy and seemed distracted and slightly withdrawn. She felt a little insecure and hoped she didn’t say anything to offend him because she liked him too. If he could only let her in…she wished…but only time will tell.
Everyone knows one of these. The “I’m-too-good-for-your-sorry-ass-and-the-world-owes-me-because-I’m-the-best-thing-since-sliced-bread” kinda guy. These guys are worse than “The Know-It-All”, because they have nothing to prove...no excuse, they are just assholes. They usually think they are better than the rest of society because their shit is not just Italian, it’s imported especially from the northern parts of Florence. They are usually rich, because they are thieves and criminals. Almost every asshole is involved in some or other kind of illegal activity, because that’s who they are. And I’m not talking “Mafia” style here…the mafia exudes a form of discipline, a respect that is unbeknownst to these morons. The mafia deals in cross-continental organized crime, these idiots only know how to bribe cops, smuggle drugs or diamonds that don’t even belong to them, or hijack Cigarette trucks to be sold on the black market...and most of the time they get caught. They are really juvenile and amatuers in comparison...they are wannabee’s of the most grandest kind. They usually start street fights with other groups of assholes (or sometimes just poor innocent victims) because they want the world to see that they have clout. Ironically, the asshole can’t really hold his own in a fight. His fight begins when he punches those digits into the keyboard of his cell phone, calling all the other assholes to back him up…because they can’t do shit on their own, all talk and no game.
Real-life Scenario: Riaz was a bully at school. He always thought that he was the shit, and would treat everyone else like crap, calling people derogatory names just to get attention and feel superior. As an adult, nothing has changed. He drives a brand new BMW, although he sells Tupperware and Crockery in a tiny shop on the corner of one of the quietest streets in town. He is notorious for starting fights, especially when he goes on holiday to Durban or Cape Town, because he can and its fun. He’ll show those MOFO’s a thing or two about JHB guys. He also has a habit of sleeping with all the married women in his community, because they are bored lonely housewives and he’s got nothing better to do. He carries his fathers gun and secretly wishes that he can use it one day, to scare someone, so that everyone can see that he is such “kwaai ou” (cool guy)…He is “the hond” (the Dawg). What he doesn’t realise is that he will eventually meet another “kwaai ou” that will probably put an end to his “kwaai-ness” before his time…its either that or he will become “The Commitment-Phobe”.
The Gossip Monger
You can find these guys outside any mosque after Magrieb…they are the ones chatting away about the latest stories in town…they offer personalised news bulletins. BBC could hire them, they would know more about the world then any of their current journalists. They are such fantastic investigative reporters that there is rarely a piece of information that goes unnoticed. They know more about the goings on in society and the world than any of the women engaging in idle gossip could ever know. They usually find their information from unsuspecting victims, by engaging in small talk in the name of kinship. They have an amazing ability to drag any story out of their prey…without the victim even suspecting that security has been breached. They could work as interrogators if they ever got tired of their shops, because no one else is better equipped at getting the story without lifting a single finger.
Real-life Scenario: Ismail knows everything about everyone…I mean EVERYTHING. You ever want to know any news or the latest marriage, divorce or death announcements, the latest economic indicators, who’s sleeping with who, what happened in Church Street last Saturday…just ask him. And if he doesn’t know, his best friend Yunus will know or he will find out tomorrow night after Magrieb, outside the mosque.
Again, these are just my stereotypes…if anyone else has something to add, just let me know.