The Book of Women
Posted by Jew from Jersey
10 June 2021
Most of my friends in high school were virgins. They talked a lot and in great detail about their experiences with women, but they were lying. More to the point, they were fantasizing out loud. Some of these people to this day I have never known to tell a lie about anything else, but they lied about women. You may be asking whether I had any girlfriends. No, I didn’t. I had some friends who were girls, but that is something completely different.
I had a few other friends that were different, leaders or loners, or sort of loner leaders. They didn’t talk about women as much, and when they did it was different. It was matter of fact. But much more important than that, girls, good-looking ones, were often present when they were around. They were either just showing up or just leaving. These weren’t girls who wanted to hang out with the guys, they were just there to see that one guy. And they talked to that guy very differently than how girls talked to me or to my other friends. The girls didn’t talk much in these situations, and they looked at the guy in a serious, secretive way. No girls ever looked at us like that. It was clear the guy was getting sex from these girls, not just an occasional awkward feel-up, but real sex. He didn’t have to brag about it or even mention it.
It seemed to me some guys just had a knack for women and some didn’t. It was like a guy who had a rare musical talent compared to a bunch of other guys who were all tone deaf. I couldn’t see any way such a gift could be acquired by one who didn’t already possess it. I tried to find things these savants had in common to the exclusion of the rest of us. They tended to look more physically mature, like they were more likely to shave every day. But they also looked more emotionally mature. They had lost that unfocused, lackadaisical gaze boys sometimes retain well into their teens. They had more self-confidence, which is probably why I thought of them as more likely to be leaders, or loners. Perhaps my sample size was too small to generalize from, but they didn’t seem to be either the popular kids or the unpopular kids. Were they more handsome? I had trouble finding measurable physical differences. I think they tended to have smaller ears.
But these differences didn’t matter much among boys, you usually only noticed them if any girls showed up. Once I was with one of my girl-capable friends, engaging in some kind of youthful shenanigan, and I suggested that since I was smaller, if I stood on his shoulder, I would be able to climb over some wall or opening or something we were trying to accomplish. He said he didn’t want to dirty his shirt. Imagine that! So his success with women wasn’t completely innate. He had to work at it. Even when there might not have been a female for miles around, he had to modify his behavior to ensure he was constantly chick-ready. And this was a guy with abundant natural talent, too. It had never occurred to me that girls might like me better if my shirt stayed clean. But if anything, this revelation convinced me all the more so that this was an effort not worth making. First of all, since I had no natural talent, the amount of additional chick appeal I might acquire through artificial means was bound to be meager as well. A tone-deaf boy can be taught to play the violin, but he will never be any good at it. Second of all, I was enjoying a kind of young Huck Finn lifestyle and all this chick stuff was starting to look suspiciously like something the Widow Douglas might have thought up in her attempts to “civilize” Huck. My friend may have been getting pussy, but he was also paying a price for it. A ladies’ man must be part lady.
In the army I met many more girls and guys from all parts of the country and all walks of life. But the basic distinction still seemed to hold: some guys were getting plenty and most guys had no clue, despite the fact that we were all now physically mature. The only new spectacle I witnessed was that of several young men in the know discussing women amongst themselves. I had never met more than one of this kind of guy at a time, and had never seen them interact with each other. I knew these guys were the real deal first of all because they didn’t brag. They were sort of talking shop. They’d talk more about their failures with women, seeking advice and counsel from the others about how to proceed. Second of all, beautiful young women were always showing up, waiting for them. The guy would hastily introduce one of them as his girlfriend and they’d leave. Later and under similar circumstances he’d introduce another one, not his girlfriend. And then later yet, another. And these girls had nothing to say to anyone else but the one guy they’d come for and they all had that same look in their eyes that left no doubt...
I know what you’re thinking: Those girls came from broken homes, had drug problems, personality disorders, low-self-esteem, daddy issues, etc. No, they didn’t. I know that kind of woman you’re alluding to and I know the kind of men that prey on them, and this is not what was going on at all.
The guys never seemed the slightest bit worried that one girl might find out about the others. There were always more. The only thing that ever bothered them was if they had designs on a newer girl and they weren’t getting anywhere. This is where their conversations got interesting. Questions were asked, suggestions were made. But throughout all the conversations I heard of this kind, several phrases recurred with extreme frequency that could almost be considered mottos. The three I remember the most clearly are:
“There are no girls who don’t give it up, only boys who don’t know to get it.” This was said if a lad had become frustrated in his efforts to pursue a certain girl and suggested that perhaps she simply didn’t put out, was too innocent, didn’t like sex, etc. It was a taunt that said if you’re not getting it, someone else is. Only a fool believes in good girls.
“A boyfriend is not a wall.” This was said if the girl in question was found to have a current boyfriend. It meant, if she knows your intentions and she’s still talking to you, the boyfriend can’t mean much to her. He may even be just a device she’s employing to make herself appear more desirable or harder to get. This also says a lot about their worldview. Even if she did have a serious boyfriend, if you could entice her away from him, you were the better man. There was no point fighting another man over a woman. The woman was the fight. Once she chooses you, you’ve won fair and square.
“Every hole is black at night.” This was said if a guy was becoming despondent over his failure with a certain girl. It was an admonishment against “oneitis,” intended to spur the lad on to cut his losses and find future happiness with new conquests.
All of these things seemed counterintuitive to me, but you can’t argue with results. And these guys had so many results that I sometimes wondered why they kept trying so hard to procure still more and were so concerned with understanding every little detail they might be able to improve upon. I guess it’s like a virtuoso violinist will never say: I play well enough, I get enough concert bookings, why should I bother to practice?