Beer Buffoon

Bloody arrogance of man!

This is why I am still single. I meet the most capricious male characters and the road taken always ends in the same way. I should learn from my past experiences, unfortunately, as Dickens (Emily!) said – that damned thing called hope seems to spring eternal.

Whenever will I learn?

Now there’s this guy I’d been seeing socially … in that non-romantic, totally platonic way. We twenty something KL-lites are often out and about after all - particularly the single ones! He was just one of these guys that I meet once in a bit but recently, I have seen a lot of him. It was always in a group, always just friendly.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Unfortunately, it’s hit me again why Malaysian men don’t get the difference between "friendly" and "flirty." Readers be warned, as an Malaysian myself, I feel qualified to make such racist statements! I will, however, issue a disclaimer. I realise there are exceptions to this rule. I know some lovely, down-to-earth Malaysian men (the Don for one). However, there is a reason why I always seem to date European men – my countrymen always always seem to let me down in this incredibly predictable stereotypical way! (that and the fact that white guys have the height advantage.)

Back to this new guy. We have loads in common, and at the face of it, I can see why he’d be labelled as "my type". One dead giveaway is the height. (of course!) Definitely above 5’10". Check. He’s funny, he’s intelligent, witty and charming. (Predictably, only when he can be bothered.) When we’re out, we have a laugh – and as a major plus point, the boy can move. (dancing, you perverts! Mind out of the gutter, please!)

When we met, Ash (so nick named after his disgusting, life-threatening habit) was all smiles and charm itself. I’m well accustomed to just being well liked as a friend, a buddy – that gal-pal every guy has. Its my own fault, I suppose - I like watching sport, I can talk intelligently about football, I’m happy to sit up in clouds of smoke with the boys as they drink and carry out drunken conversation … more importantly, I’m their window into the female psyche. I’m happy to share my thoughts, I listen to their queries/problems and give them my opinion/advice the best I can.

Everybody’s best friend, and nobody’s girlfriend, has been my lot in life. I’ve long accepted this fact. There are far worse things in life than to be liked and wanted to be friended by men, right?

So whenever we went out, I never once thought this guy fancied me. I’m far too used to having attention from guys who only ever wanted to be platonic friends. I’m well used to men laughing at my jokes, interested in my life, calling me for long, long conversation or nights out that never crossed over to romance. My teenage heartbreaks are all testament to this fact. I’d already been there and done that and certainly, bought the t-shirt. I know when a guy fancies me … and this was not it.

At least not yet.

So while I entertained Ash whenever he was flirty (it was only polite!) … I was at that very comfortable neutral place where I wasn’t bothered either way. If he wanted something more and pursued it, I was happy to give it a try. If he only ever wanted to remain friends, then hey – I’m absolutely fine with that too.

You all understand that I did not like (not romantically at least) this guy – yet, right?

He (predictably) didn’t.

After last night, I’m not sure I ever want to see this arrogant tosser ever again. I was asked to go out again in a group that involved Ash. As far as I knew, things were cool. We’d gone out the last time, had a great night – no awkwardness nothing.

Yet soon after I’d walked into the club, I’d realised all was not well. Ash barely greeted me, let alone looked me in the eye. He sat at the opposite end of our table, as far away from me as possible, like I had some kind of disease. I did not mind it/think about it much in the beginning. I had other people to meet, to chat to and drinks to get down me. Thankfully, I had my partner in crime, Aoirish with me. Nothing’s a bore when a drunken Irishwoman is around!

It soon became apparent to me that Ash was busy trying to chat up another girl. One with this permanent look of discontent who kept shooting me and Aoirish the dirtiest of looks. All Frizzy did was barely entertain Ash, let alone anyone else, preferring to chug away at her cigarette. (Ah, a match made in fume-heaven!) Perhaps I should take a leaf out of her book. If I looked disgruntled, sat on my own, with my arms wrapped around me, looking sour and dissatisfied with the world, men would see it as a challenge and come running.

What did this Vixen do you ask? Had a laugh, thank you very much. I wasn’t the kind who’d ruin a good night because a man was being a prat. Aoirish was far more angry than I was. I think she took it personally as she’d spend half the night last time trying to convince me he was into me.

Ah, Aoirish, listen to the voice of experience. I love you for thinking I’m hot and irresistible, but I know better. Nevertheless, there was no stopping her that night. With the added incentive of vodka, emotions on her part were running high. She fumed (no pun intended!) at Ash’s blatant rudeness, and despite my protestations to leave well alone, she soon went to find out what the matter was.

She came back rolling her eyes. Apparently, she got the feeling Ash thought my Irish friend was coming on to him! What bloody arrogance of man, eh!

He should be so lucky. No thank you, not me, and not my mate.

I guess it was also possible that he thought I’d sent her there to suss out the scene for me. He’d made it a point to tell her how he liked Frizzy, a girl he’d only met that night. To add insult to injury, she (Frizzy) barely had a personality, let alone looks. I’m being a bitch because she was a bitch to me. I have claws too … though I don’t unsheathe them much!

Later not one, but two of his friends come over to find out if I liked him!!! And proceeded to give me advice on how to "get" him. I didn’t know where to put my face! And I cannot believe this man is nearly 30, but acts like he’d never graduated kindergarten!

Oh, the cheek of that moron. I cannot believe the sheer temerity and arrogance! And how should I stand up for myself, to tell them what I feel? No one asked me!!! Everybody just made bloody assumptions. And since they were all his friends, no one thought to even ask.

Who should be more embarrassed, do you think? This arrogant swine who thinks just because a girl looks at him sideways and smiles at him one time too many, she’s madly in love with him?

Or was it me who had to be embarrassed? My only fault it was is to be my naturally friendly self! This seems to be something Malaysian men in particular have a hard time understanding. Apparently, I should be aloof, play hard to get, not try and make them feel comfortable, and make small talk.

I give up! I will not apologise for just being myself. They can like it or lump it, and I’m certainly not going to waste my time with such Neanderthals.