Before the story begins, I'd like to thank my volunteer editor, adelante39, for her assistance. Aside from some glaring mistakes, she helped me breathe some life into the story as well as providing some direction for where it goes next, if it does.
*****
Looking beyond the narrative came easily to Dave Hunter. As an associate professor, he had researched many topics. His papers were somewhat provocative but well received and largely irrefutable. He was lucky to work in a school that actually embraced freedom of thought and speech. Despite the occasional controversy, he was well-respected amongst the administration and his peers.
He prided himself on knowledge and wisdom had a well-established career and was making a good life for himself, but he was still frustrated by his personal life. He had not had a decent relationship in two years and no dates in the last three months.
It bothered him that despite his good and caring attitude towards women, he was generally dismissed. He was just being himself and trying to give women what they said they wanted but often after the first date, the responses would stop.
Research was a part of his toolbox so he decided to act. It was summer vacation and he had time to dally in this.
At the school library, all the relationship books said the same things.
"Compliment her."
"Be yourself."
"Treat her with respect."
He knew all that. What had it yielded? Nothing. It really hadn't said anything more than what every woman's profile on Match.com said.
Google was his next stop. He typed in "what do women want from men" which returned twenty million results. He ignored The Huffington Post, sure it would be the same old crap over again. Semi-scientific websites were offering advice based on monkeys but that just seemed wrong, though discussions of evolutionary psychology piqued his interest.
Several pages in, he started seeing a lot of blogs on WordPress and BlogSpot. He almost didn't bother since just anyone could be writing these but one attracted his eye: "How to Get and Keep Your Next Girlfriend".
In some ways, it seemed the same. He was admonished to dress well, look after himself, be in shape. All of that stuff made sense. But he was horrified at some of the other suggestions as he read further. Ignore her, tease her, don't let her think you're all into her, be direct and direct the relationship, tell her what to do; don't ask.
All this went against everything he had been taught by his mom, his girl-friends, and magazines. One little snippet stuck out though:
women know what they want from a man to whom they are already attracted, but are not willing to admit what they are attracted to.
"That kind of makes sense," he thought as he continued reading. He knew very well that much of this could be made up, but a lot of it was corroborated by some of the less practical scientific articles he read, not to mention his own observations of women he knew. How many complained about their recent acquisitions, despite the fact that they got in with them in the first place, virtually ignoring Dave or men like Dave?
Over the next few weeks, he devoured this plebeian advice, unable to turn from it. Heartiste was his favourite. The guy seemed like a self-absorbed dick but was shockingly entertaining in his evisceration of contemporary ideologies.
And the ideas worked. Being the scientist he liked to think he was, Dave put some of the concepts to the test.
The girl at the grocery checkout.
She was very pretty, if a little young for him. She had dismissed his compliments before, but now he turned it around a bit. Instead of telling her she was pretty, he commented on the brooch she wore on her apron. She actually engaged him, telling the story of how she got it from her grandmother.
The woman at the gym
Trying to maintain disinterest was hard when Dave found himself staring at a luscious blonde working out on the nautilus. She stopped and commented, "Funny. I thought you were gay."
"Me? Yeah. You remind me of a former boyfriend."
Her indignation faded when he followed with, "Actually, your biceps look remarkably soft for the weight you're pulling."
They were baby steps to be sure, but he found himself getting progressively more confident with women. In some circumstances, he noticed them moving closer to him as they talked.
Despite his moderate success, Dave was still unsure. It was near the end of summer and he would have a little less time for his new studies in just a couple of weeks. Deciding to go all out, he and a buddy went to a busy pub on a Friday night. The place was packed with a touring bar band finishing the last two songs of their first set. Dave and Jim hadn't been served by the time of the break so they headed to the bar.
Three girls were standing at a table, nursing drinks and laughing a bit.
He approached them. "You girls seem like the life of the party." He surveyed the group as he made the statement. All of them were cute but the blonde seemed a little too made-up. Of the two brunettes, one seemed just right if only because she'd be shorter than him.
"Really?" they beamed.
"I'm just kidding. You all look bored. It's a good band. You should loosen up."
"Aren't you a little old for this place?" sniped the blonde.
"Not as old as that purse, but it still looks good on you," he winked.
"Hey! This is brand new!" she pouted.
"It's okay sweetie. You and your mom have good taste." A quick glance showed the brunettes were amused at both the teasing and the blonde's manufactured affront, hinting that it was working for him. By that time, Jim had come back with their beers.
