Let’s call him Joe. He is the quintessential asshole. He is tall, handsome, educated, talented, well-paid, etc., etc., and he is well aware of these attributes.
I once went out with a guy so well-groomed and so ideal, that my friend Alexandra took to calling him “The World’s Most Coveted Man.” The difference between TWMCM and Joe the Asshole, however, is that the former character wasn’t an asshole. Just full of himself.
I can deal with arrogance. After all, I went to school next door to Morehouse College, where arrogance is a main component of the core curriculum. Joe is a Morehouse Man. But he’s not traditionally arrogant. He is, however, traditionally jackassinine.
What makes Joe The Quintessential Asshole is his finesse for mistreating and manipulating women–for being just that–an asshole. Many men, I’ve noticed, can insult you, your intellect, or your looks; can make far-reaching sexist or misogynistic statements; can ignore your phone calls, or ignore you in public; can verbally or physically abuse you; and more. But Joe would never do any of that, because those acts are too obvious, as well as too harsh. Joe is a smooth asshole, a subtle asshole; he is, indeed, a charming asshole.
I first met him a few years ago through a friend. And of course, he pretended to be interested in me. Joe is one of those men whom everyone wants, but who is intentionally and invariably elusive. Not because he is so great or superior that he can’t connect with other human beings; but because being unreachable, untouchable, and unattainable are his goals in life. He gets great joy at seeing others suffer: schadenfreude. I think, however, that those others are entirely comprised of women.
What I remember about my interactions with him, over the last few years: he is incredibly flirtatious, but not with everyone. He picks a few people to focus on, but focuses on them uniformly, without personalizing his interactions. Once, we were at a party, dancing together, and he suddenly walked off, leaving me completely by myself, leaving me to feel awkward. He gets great joy from seeing this kind of thing.
I saw him recently at an event, and throughout our conversation, he again kept walking off, as if he had somewhere of infinite importance to be or someone of infinite importance to speak with. He refused to engage.
Now admittedly, it takes a certain kind of woman to fall for this kind of foolishness, and I used to be that kind of woman. I used to feel validated and uplifted by men’s attention even (or especially) if those men were complete losers. I think a lot of women have this problem (see my post N.E.R.D – No One Ever Remembers Dorks). But that doesn’t excuse the behavior of men who thrive off of belittling women.
At this point, I’m sure you’re wondering what exactly was so terrible about Joe. Did he ever hit me? Did he ever yell at me, criticize me, stand me up, or insult me? No, no, and no–and that’s why he’s such a great asshole. It’s also why so many women suffer in debilitating relationships, because they know something is wrong, but they can’t exactly articulate to others, or even to themselves, what that something is.
Most people seem to think that Bad Men are the ones who are abusive. Who treat you like shit, who are uncaring, emotionally distant, or emotionally tyrannical. But there is a whole other sect of Bad Men who will never do anything to get them arrested, or even criticized by their peers. There is an entire nation of men who support their male chauvinism and hyper-heterosexuality just by offhand comments towards women, by feigning interest in women they know to be weak, and by remaining emotionally uninvolved with every woman they meet, all for the self-obsessed purpose of knowing they “won.”
Whether it’s a man you know is trying to subliminally terrorize you, or, in the case of my poem “Parts of a Flower,” a deadbeat dad whose absence has had permanent repercussions, that pesky feeling of melancholy, or of being used, which you can’t always articulate, and never feel is justified, actually is justified, and perfectly fine to feel. The realm of human emotion can’t be clear-cut, only nuanced. And more importantly, the body–intuition–often knows what the mind does not. Trust yourself.
