That's right. Just lie there...
Sloth, the great monkey of the dating world appears to be rearing it's ugly, smelly head at the most inopportune of times - a drought. Drought does not mean the misplacing or ignoring of one's sexual or dating philosophies or beliefs as a result of quiet, frustrated desperation. Quite the contrary - given time to mull over the intricate world of dating, we have time to refine our dating "style", or what brands us as unique in a world of near-identical perfume-scented, well dressed, gym-honed female bodies flitting through any given bar on any given night. Which is why I am always disappointed when the girl with the lower cut dress (hey - their dresses are never shorter than mine) and the more willing swivel in her hip ends up with a guy at the end of the night. It's not as a result of the granting of more attention, a better conversation or a funnier girl - it comes down to willingness to jump into the proverbial at the flick of a bar strap's notice.
A male friend recently informed me that a friend, upon discussing another girl,
had said "why would I spend the night chatting her up when I knew she would reject me (aka not sleep with him straight away), when I could go home with *insert name* (do they ever have names, really?) and get a shag with no effort?". I was somewhat affronted and outraged by this particular comment, but it did remind me that men can at times be terribly lazy. They'll pick the girl who's up for it over the girl who requires a little more effort, and they'll choose a DVD on the couch over going out, getting dressed and socialising (DVD = Death to Dating - I've said it before). There's always a time for a DVD on the couch - don't get me wrong, but it's not every Friday/Saturday/Sunday night of the year. Many of my friends have since pointed out that not only was the path to true love not particularly easy, this was made all the more maddeningly difficult by the male's inability to detect the subtle signs of female interest. What - breathless inappropriate giggles, constant hair twirling and constant arm-touching isn't enough? Apparently not. One girl had to text her current beau every Friday night for two months before he realised her interest extended far beyond a "Friday night beer" (never mind she can't stand beer), and that her senseless mid-week emails were attempts at flirting, rather than a genuine interest in the football team he followed (sometimes any old flimsy "in" will do). I believe it's a vicious circle of laziness: lazy boy shags easy lady every Friday night --> lazy boy never interested in easy shag beyond easy shag because she's too easy (self-fulfilling prophecy that one) --> lazy boy incapable of understanding normal female behaviour due to failure to read Jane Austen and failure to understand how less easy girls operate = slackness re chase = frustration on behalf of female who either (a) becomes easy lady out of quiet desperation; or (b) moves on to some bloke with a sister who provides inadvertent instruction on how females operate, due to conversations overheard by said bloke due to bloke's hanging around during girl afternoons in lame attempt to find the "easy" lady in the bunch.
And apparently even if you find a not so lazy man, who is prepared to give a good old fashioned "chase" a go, like red wine on a white silk dress, laziness quickly sets in once the long-term status of the relationship is established. There's an old joke which posits: "What food makes a woman's sex drive disappear?" Answer - wedding cake. My married girlfriends would counter this and ask: "What food makes a man give up taking you out on dates, dressing with any sense of decency, and refrain from farting/belching in your presence?" Apparently that is "wedding cake, for 50 cents, Rod".
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