Dante Nero

I was on stage recently and I asked a question to a women in the audience. Is it true that a woman knows that she’s going to sleep with a guy when she first meets him? I also asked aproximately how long does it take for a lady to know this.

Now before I give the answer they gave me, I’d like to give you the background on this cautionary tale. Let me first say that I was at Times square Comedy Club on 42nd and 8th. There is a reason why I mention this. If you know where the club resides, you know there is a large tourist population in the area. It’s not unlikely to have a German couple, a Dutch family, a group of girls from Australia, 3 guy’s from Denmark, another couple from Bavaria, 6 Puerto Ricans from the Bronx, an older couple from Brooklyn, 2 Dominican couples from Washington Heights, and a lesbian couple from Queens - true story!

I mention that because I really want you to understand that the opinions expressed are not only real, but they are international. Even though the women in the room were culturally thousands of miles away, they all were of the same accord.

Now I truly understand that there are exceptions to every rule, as I am a large tattooed black man who has never been to jail. I never said I didn’t do things that maybe should have landed me there, but nonetheless I never got caught…but I digress.

I get it, all woman are not the same - a point that I am presently accepting but battle with daily…Anyway, the answer I received from the white woman in the interracial African and Caucasian couple (from Ohio) said this; “A woman knows soon after you open your mouth whether she wants to sleep with you but then he has to earn it!” Wow! How amazing that statement was coming out of an older woman in her late forties who is clearly unattractive, if not borderline ugly. The thing that really startled me was the arrogant tone she spoke, as if she clearly didn’t own a mirror or a calendar. It dawned on me in that moment that the level of delusion on that topic existed among women across the globe was staggering. This problem is a bigger than terrorism, although very similar. I say across the globe, because as she spoke the women in the room erupted in a tsunami of agreement while each adding their own 2 cents. All they while they were explaining what a woman does after she decides if you’re worthy of her vaginal anointment. Each addition was slightly different from Rotterdam to Rhode Island. Yet they all were in accordance with the fact that we as men were privileged to have sex with them. Really? Privileged!?

Privileged to pay our car note and our insurance so we have something to pick you up in. Privileged to spend the date being stressed but alert, ready to make conversation, all while being witty and flexible. Carrying out the evening’s itinerary with great thought that we planned in hopes of keeping you interested. Privileged to put gas in my vehicle at $4 a gallon and use it up at the whim of your desire of course culminating in driving and dropping you off at whole out of MY way. Privileged to pay for dinner drinks and desert at a place way overpriced. Despite that, she may ungratefully dislike the place because a struggling student waiting tables (and living in a roach filled room) is trying to do better in life and might have brought the spring rolls out on time. I go through all of this hoping I had done everything right for my “audition.” Hopefully I’ll get the call back from her.

When I’m done contemplating my losses, I tally them in my head. What did it cost to me? I came up with a rough figure consisting of insurance, gas, time, aggravation, wit and chicken wings. I came up with $13,632. Boy, do I feel privileged.

As I explained to the hoard of arrogant vaginas how I came up with the figure, I was advised by the Dominican lesbians: “then why don’t just get a hooker?” she said in a rebuttal. I thought to myself that’s the first thing they said that made sense. I get it.

It’s just not that simple. We as men want companionship and love, just not at the cost of losing ourselves with an arrogancy that feels like ungratefulness. We don’t mind the $13,632 if we are appreciated. Then we can move the relationship forward so we can get engaged at the cost 3 months salary for the ring. The payoff is spending the rest of my life taking care of you and not sleeping with other women.


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Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  05/16  at  10:58 PM

And yet, they have they pussy. They will always win. And there’s a sick part of me that doesn’t mind that one bit. What a shame

Posted by Tyler Meznarich  on  05/20  at  02:37 PM

The conundrum of wanting to be treated equal yet also special.  Paradox anyone?

Posted by Heather Height  on  06/28  at  12:44 PM

I’ve clearly been doing something wrong. Does anyone know where I can get cunt lessions cheap?

Posted by Tina Marie  on  07/18  at  01:36 AM

You could save money and just bang chicks with low self esteem who are thrilled to get a happy meal and a happy ending. raspberry

And it’s true. Any woman who says it’s not is a lying cunt rag.

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