M.A.D. Yes, again. Because if I don't tell you about the foolish men I meet, who will, no?

I’m not entirely sure about this, but I’m starting to think that some men are not entirely normal, and by that I mean they’re completely and utterly batshit insane.  Mind you it’s just a suspicion at this point, so don’t go getting your panties in a bunch just yet, let me lay it out for you first, then you decide.  

Ladies and gentlemen, this is another foolish tale of a foolish man, as told by your resident foolish woman (that would be me).  Dont worry, its a M.A.D. tale, which basically translates to equal opportunity shaming and what not, and that’s always fun, right?  Slight detour, that guy, crazy eyes, pathological liar guy, hes really doing the DJ thing, I keep seeing him on posters and everything.  Hes everywhere I go, I think hes stalking me  Detour over, moving on to todays genius.  

Several months ago I met a brand spanking new man, one year older than me, and single to boot (that I have to point that out is so sad, no?), seemingly serious and intent on finding a woman to settle down with and reproduce forthwith.  Great, right?  Problem is, I met this man round about the time I was busy coming to the conclusion that I’m not looking for a serious man, so you can imagine the subsequent confusion.  While the man was busy waxing lyrical on how much he wanted to have kids and interrogating me on my future plans regarding family and such like nonsense, I was busy trying to figure out how to tell him that I didn’t share his enthusiasm.  It started with a soft, ‘I’m not sure I want to have children, I think my time has passed,’ to which he responded, ‘Ha ha ha, you’re so funny!  One week later, when I asked him what he was looking for in a woman, he gave me the usual spiel of, ‘Kind, caring, supportive, adventurous, and she must love kids,’ to which I responded, ‘Well then, it was nice knowing you, good luck and everything,’ to which he responded…wait for it…’Ha ha ha, you’re so funny!  One week later he was joking about how he wouldn’t leave me alone with the kids, in case I starve them, or deny them religion, to which I responded, ‘What kids?  Are you trying to get me pregnant?’ to which he responded…you guessed it…’Ha ha ha, you are so funny!  Long story short, the man is no longer in the picture, but not because I kept refusing to bear his children, nooooo…  This genius of a man has since vanished because, among other reasons, he was looking to have an open relationship and I wasn’t, apparently. 

Confused?  I am.

Best I can figure is, the man was harbouring visions of happily ever after when he met me, a single, seemingly mature woman with an income all of my own and no baby daddy issues to boot (apparently, many women my age out there looking for a man, have already had a man, and theyve got proof.  Im just saying).  Unfortunately, a month later, after getting to know me better, he belatedly realised that I was not the woman he was looking for.  I figure, the open relationship story was his attempt at getting the milk for free in lieu of buying the cow.  Cue pregnant silence…  So the man intended to keep shagging me while chasing/shagging x number other women, and this because he stuck me in the ‘women I will never marry’ group?  And I was expected to be okay with it because I didn’t want to have his babies?  Wow!  

Just when I think I’ve seen it all, I meet a whole new brand of genius.  Oh joy!  

Frankly, the mans only saving grace was that he was completely upfront about all of it, he laid it all out, no lies, no bullshit.  Well, plenty of bullshit, but not of the lying variety.  Seriously, the man answered every question I ever had, made no attempt to lie, cheat or conceal, even when perhaps he should have (some things you should never tell a woman, especially a woman with a blog, no?), and it was bloody refreshing.  Scratch that, it was brilliant, those two months I spent getting to know him were fun, strange, but easy and uncomplicated.  Fun, no?  If he hadnt come at me with his frightening dreams of a bright future with 67 children plus the other women, Id be telling you a very different tale right now, one better suited to the sewer.  I shall say no more on that matter, for now.  

What I don’t get is why he went through the whole ‘I’m looking to settle down’ rubbish if all he really wanted was to get laid?  That’s how men get shot in this city, no?  Can you imagine what state I’d be in right now if I had been serious about this man?  I’d probably be telling you this story from my phone, as I sit waiting for the judge to show up at my hearing, seeing as how they’ll probably want to charge me with manslaughter or something such like, because I ran over his punk ass on Moi Avenue.  Ati you show up with stories of forever and ever, and then you continue screwing around willy nilly?  Sweet Jesus!  In what world is that even an option?  I know Im pretty liberal, but come the fuck on  If I was a serious woman looking for a serious man and an idiot pulled this stunt, my friend, there would be blood on that dance floor, yes?  

I know you’re thinking if I had been serious with the man then perhaps he’d have been serious himself, right?  Wrong!  Even if I’d been the perfect little almost wife, he’d still have buggered off/around, the man has no idea what it is he’s looking for.  Folks, it’s not like I was sitting there pretending to be a demure little domestic goddess when he approached me, I was being my normal, delusional, borderline pornographic self when he stumbled across my path.  There was no false advertising on my part, is all Im saying, at no point did I even attempt to portray the image of a woman looking to multiply and fill the earth.  He made that flawed assumption all by his idiot self, assuming that because Im female and thaate something, I must be itching to have kids, even if I say I dont.  And then when I finally managed to convince him that I was quite serious about that one (not so) minor issue, he made another flawed assumption, in an attempt to turn it to his advantage.  This genius figured that because Im unconventional like that, then I must be open to...open?  Really?  Dude!  Just because I dont want to get married, that doesnt mean I want to be your clande, bloody idiot!  More to the point, you can’t approach me as prospective wife and then turn around and offer me the position of mistress, that’s just wrong.  This man is simply clueless, and insane, no?  

Moving on swiftly…

I was out for a drink a couple of weekends back, catching up with the fellas, such as we do, and in strolls a lovely gentlemen I had a gigantic crush on last year, a crush that he then crushed with speed, and a touch of malice.  He wasn’t feeling me ‘like that’ he said, but it was okay, I’m a big girl and I’ve been knocked back a couple of times, so I take the hit and I keep on walking, no harm no foul and what not.  I’m lying, of course, I was, and still am, slightly miffed at how he dismissed me with such ease, semi-publicly humiliating me in the process, but what are you going to do?  So there I am, out and about, minding my own business, only to turn around to find the bastard standing beside me.  Oh joy!  

He and his pal perch right next to me and mine, forcing me to introduce them to the fellas (and in so doing earning myself a couple of ‘this is the guy?’ looks, followed by a detailed gossip session soon after they left), but thankfully, after a couple of minutes of polite banter, Mr ‘like that’ wandered off in search of women in smaller skirts, I assume.  His friend/wingman now left to his own devices, and still standing next to me, then took that opportunity to chat me up.  Yes, he was flirting with me, quite well I might add, but all the while I was wondering, eh?  See, when I was dismissed, this idiot was in the audience, and I suspect he was cheering (and not for me), so for him to turn around and hit on me was very peculiar, to say the least.  I was convinced I was being punked.  Now while his friend was doing his thing, Mr ‘like that’ wandered back to the counter and stood back to watch, frowning at his boys manoeuvres, and the minute his friend took a break, Mr Man slid over and planted himself by my side and proceeded to…you guessed it…hit on me.  I am not lying, the man turned on the charm, he even threw in the reserve smoothness tank, the works, talking about how he’s missed me and shit.  The man was not only talking to me like I was the hottest woman in the room (I wasnt, but not for lack of trying), he was acting like he was oh so overjoyed to finally have me all to himself (he actually said that).  Eh?

Just so you know, I haven’t changed that much in the past one year, the hair is shorter and the scar on my forehead is a bit more faded, but only a bit, frankly I’m the same mama I was in 2011, back when he lengad my ass.  Hell, even when he walked in earlier he was still lenga-ing said ass, and then 30 minutes later hes all hey baby, trying to Barry White that same ass?  What the fuck man?  The only reason I can give for a man who wanted nothing to do with me last year suddenly getting interested this year?  He saw someone else getting interested, his idiot pal no less.  It was simply a pissing contest, and I was the lucky piss pot.  Say it with meOh joy!

And that right there is the one thing that always confounds me about men, how bloody changeable you are.  You buggers are the most fickle creatures on God’s green earth; on the way to the restaurant, the man wants steak, but when he gets there he decides he wants chicken, but then the waitress comes over in her little skirt and recommends the fish and the next thing you know, the man orders fish.  Fickle bastards, with the attention span of a goldfish.  I’m not being harsh, just think about it.  One minute a man is all over you, gushing like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.  Five days later, the same man is ignoring you like you’re a piece of stale bread.  Then two weeks later, you’re back to sliced bread.  What the hell man?  You can’t go around changing your mind like your hormones are fluctuating, useless buggers…  Listen, you either want me or you don’t, its that simple.  No really, it is.  Gentlemen, I am a simple woman who lacks the skills required to decode your finer subtleties, I expect that when you tell me what you want, you actually know what it is you want and that you mean what you are actually saying.  

Like I said at the beginning, completely and utterly batshit insane, some men are.  I rest my case.