I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! I knew it couldn’t be just me.

As many people have read and commented on, I haven’t had the best luck with women up here in the DC area. It has somewhat turned me sour towards women in this area (not the ones I personally know, but a good chunk of the rest). Well, it turns out, it’s not just me…it’s women in general.

Now, before you start bashing me for generalizing, hear me out.

I was reading Digg.com yesterday, near the end of the day, and came across an article on DoubleViking.com (admittedly a “guy site”) entitled Unfortunate (Sexual) Things About Being a Man. One part of the article struck me right away: that women just seem to hate men…especially meeting men in social situations.

Don’t believe me? Read for yourself:

Norah Vincent is a lesbian journalist. I say this not because “lesbian” is one of the only things one might need to know about her, but to bring to mind the cliché that most lesbians, to some extent, hate or dislike men.

Vincent’s book, A Self-Made Man, chronicles the year and a half she spent disguised as a man named “Ned,” in order to find out how the lives of men are different from the lives of women. While most of her findings could have been easily figured out without all the effort involved in cross-dressing (incidentally, men are less vocal about emotions than women), one particular finding is especially interesting:

I’ll be the first to admit…I have no fucking clue…especially not what makes DC women tick. I’m lost. I have 900K half-baked theories…but none of them eventually pan out. Therefore, I DON’T FUCKING KNOW. But, I will venture to guess. ;)

Now, most of my observations will be short and rather alliterative… and if you hate that, stop reading now. If you’re cool with that pathetic literary device…I urge you to keep reading…because you’ll probably hate me halfway through this screed…and I can use more hate, thank you. :P

I don’t even know how to start this post. *sigh* I’m slightly drunk (went to sleep and woke back up, not able to sleep after an odd night and more than a few Corona/Jack combos) and somewhat depressed…and I think I’m just going to vent.

Yes, women of DC, I’m talking to you. I was raised a “Southern Gentleman.”…but without all the misogynistic tendencies. Just because I didn’t bang your uterus inside out tonight doesn’t mean I don’t want to later. I just have a rule: I NEVER sleep with a woman on the first date. Hell, it’s rare if I sleep with a woman on the second date. It’s just how I am. Let me explain.

I’m not out there just to bang all the girls I meet up with. (And I will type this part in all caps) I WANT A GIRLFRIEND! I don’t want a fuck buddy or a FWB (been there, done that). I want a woman with whom I can share my life. I want a woman who thinks I’m funny and interesting, even if I’m a bit of a paradox. (And believe me, I’m a walking paradox.)

No, I’m not adverse to sex. Hell, my libido has been on nitro-boosted overdrive lately. But, that still doesn’t mean that I will compromise my values. I’m simply an old-fashioned guy when it comes to some things.

Let’s take a girl I met tonight as an example: she is HOT. I mean scalding water on a cat HOT. Not my “perfect” woman…but damned close. The only thing she lacks to make her my “perfect woman” is red hair. She’s got everything else…to a T.

ANYway. We were talking tonight (I don’t even remember how the conversation got started) and she was blowing my mind. We had so much in common that it wasn’t EVEN funny. We even showed each other (most of our) tattoos. She absolutely loved my “kama sutra” tattoo. The talk turned sexual and we shared many a detail about our sexualities. Things seemed to click all over the place. Then she invited me back to her place (which is near the bar). That’s where things went wrong.

Like I said: I’m not a virgin and I’m not a prude. Hell, I will do things for/to a woman that will make her dead ancestors blush…but not on the first date. Yes, I ended up going back to the girls’ place (she has a roommate) and chilling and having a glass of wine. We talked for a little bit and things seemed to be going well…and then she attacked.

Why am I alone? I’m not ugly. I’m not OLD. I love women. I’m a *stout* guy. I give 180% to any relationship I’m in. I make good money. Why do I get thrown away like a tissue at the end of the night?

Do arab DJs misinterpret our songs? “Sheik, sheik, sheik…sheik, sheik, sheik…Sheik Djibouti…sheik djibouti….” … ?