The Tragedy That Befalls Men Who Can't See Their Flaws

He was the kind of man who read about misogynists, womanizers, and narcissists. A self-proclaimed nice guy who prided himself in being nothing like those other men. Except he wasn’t very good with women. Not that anyone could tell, not even him.

His first crush was on a girl next door — a bubbly brunette who spoke with an accent — for years, he suffered silently; not once had he told anyone or acted on his urges. In high school, girls only gave him attention when they need help with assignments and projects.

Things changed in college when he met a girl (let’s call her Erica). They’d met in EOT class, an elective he took to for extra credits. Though he found the class boring, he found her entertaining. However, she wasn’t the typical beauty or as sexy as the popular girls.

Erica was a plain Jane, a solid five if he would rate her.

Often they grabbed coffee together, which gradually became lunch dates. The more time they spent together, the fonder he grew of her. He thought of touching her or making a move, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know where to start, and the thought of scaring her off crippled him. So he didn’t.

Till the day Erica kissed her. As they kissed, she unbuttoned her blouse; this gave him confirmation to go on. Underneath layers of baggy clothes, she had a petite frame. Her anxiety indicated that she wasn’t sexually experienced, and this put off the pressure on him. The last thing he would want is to be compared to her previous lovers.

For some time, they hung out and frequently had sex. He was happy at how less demanding Erica was. She never asked the question, “what are we?” or complained about him. Let alone insist they hold hands in public. Until one day, she told him she couldn’t go on with this.

He didn’t know whether to beg her for another chance or ask her what was wrong. Instead, He said okay. A word that hurt Erica even more. She ran off.

He was confused; he didn’t mind having her as a girlfriend but was surprised that she had expectations. If Erica had expectations, it would lead to disappointment, so it’s better to end things now he thought to himself.

After college, dating became trickier, work was demanding, he couldn’t find time, and when he had the urge for sex, porn was just a click away. It gave him the novelty and variety he wanted, often jerking off until he came three or four times.

Porn became boring, he missed the warmth and company of a woman so he went head-on into the dating game. He read many listicles on what women wanted. He even read on what women’s deal breakers were. Armed with the latest knowledge and pickup lines, he went on the prowl in bars and clubs; months later, he still held his single status.

Eager to change it, he tried a dating app.

He portrayed himself as truthfully as possible — revealing his actual age and uploading the latest picture, even mentioning hobbies that many would have found strange. This should be more than enough, he thought. Unfortunately, when he sent women messages, they went unanswered. Those that did, follow the same fashion often ending in the same way.

Hey

How was your day?

What are you up to?

As mind-numbingly boring as it was, he kept at it, spending 15 minutes a day sending out messages to women hoping to hit the jackpot.

One day his resilience paid off; a woman named Barbra seemed promising. She was pretty with long lustrous hair and a beautiful smile. She had no children, was an avid reader, and loved hiking. But what impressed him more was her admitting that it was her first time trying a dating app. To him, this meant she didn’t have a lot of expectations or experience.

He stared at her picture for the umpteenth time — she’s beautiful. “What’s your profession Barbra” he eventually asked.

“I’m a science teacher,” she responded. He couldn’t believe a woman so beautiful would be interested in science.

“Really wow”

She was everything he wanted.

After texting for a day or two, she agreed to meet him for a cup of tea at a new joint. Seated at the table, he nervously waited for her. And noticed cheery pictures of children on the wall and found it distasteful.

“Hiiiiiiiii”, she sang as she swung her hips from left to right. Getting up to pull a chair out for her, he noticed her perfectly manicured nails and took in a whiff of her sweet scent.

Barbra was prettier in person; suddenly, he felt insecure and wondered whether she found him attractive. Or whether people in the restaurant thought she was way out of his league.

“Interesting restaurant,” he said

I know, right? she chirped

“I was being sarcastic,” he said.

“Oh she,” said strangely. “Okay”

“The restaurant would have had a better ambiance if it had more pictures of adults laughing or couples holding hands. Not pictures of smiling children.”

He could tell she hadn’t liked his remark despite him trying to appear witty. He quickly changed the subject and asked about her teaching career. She warmed up again and began engaging. They touched on a couple of more topics… He was amazed at how easily she could keep up with him. She was not just book-smart but street-smart as well.

“For how long have you been single,” she asked.

He wondered whether his inexperience was evident and whether she suspects he had trouble finding someone. He told her about Erica; and how she unexpectedly ended things.

She listened, attentively offering a kind word here and there.

“I can relate,” she said, “every time I seem to be the one who’s always left behind, picking pieces of a broken heart while everyone else moves on with their lives.”

He imagined her in an empty home, curled up in fetal position and crying herself to sleep. He knew her pain because that’s how he spent most of his days–lonely and longing for companionship.

“I guess I should head home, it’s getting late.” she said.

He wanted to ask her to stay a little longer, to open up more.

She was already up and ready to grab her bag.

“Would you.. I mean could we meet up again tomorrow or whenever you’re free.”

“Sure,” she said, flashing her pearly white teeth. “I’ll text you.”

He thought her leaving was quite abrupt and wondered whether the date went well.

The following day at work, he kept thinking of Erica, replaying the encounter and analyzing every detail. The thoughts were driving him crazy. So during lunch break, he went to the restaurant across the road instead of having lunch in his office.

The waitress ushered him to his favorite spot. Seated at the opposite table was a group of ladies enjoying the lunchtime cocktail special — buy one get two free. One was telling a raunchy story about hook up with a tinder date.

“He was much older in person”… Nooooo, they retorted.

“Throughout the date he kept staring at my breasts with no shame. I wanted to slap him when he spoke of freeing the girls later.”

What a jerk! One girl said. To which, they all agreed.

Y’all don’t understand; she continued…he was a stallion in bed; I lost count of the orgasms I had.

To which, they all laughed and uniformly dragged their vowels.

John clenched his fist and left. He felt irritated and was beyond pissed. He wondered why women entertain jerks. “He disrespected her …why did she go ahead and sleep with him?” he thought aloud

At home, he wondered whether a girl like her would ever go for a guy like him. His imagination ran wild. He thought of her in the summer dress she had on and how beautiful her cleavage looked in it… he masturbated, thinking of her huge breasts.

On a Friday afternoon, a text came in, hey, it’s Barbra :), wanna meet up for some drinks? You can pick the bar since you didn’t like my choice last time.

He felt a little bad and wondered if he should apologize for that, but he decided it’s too trivial to be acknowledged.

He texted her the location and arrived 30 minutes early. She showed up on time, rocking a tight black dress that showed off her slim curves- she looks like a model.

They cozied up to each other, chatting, laughing while enjoying a bottle of wine. One became two, and two became three. Her boldness increased with each glass. He was more confident and surprisingly relaxed. Each time the waiter offered another round, they both agreed. The night was playing out perfectly.

She brushed her knee with her manicured nails. “Is there any place we can go, music is getting really loud?”

“Let’s go back to my place,” he said, his heart hammered as he waited for her response.

That’s a great idea, she purred.

They left the bar hand in hand. In the cab, they were barely able to keep their hands off each other, her kissing and touching. He didn’t care what the cab driver thought. Every inhibition he had was gone out the window. He was with a dime and ready to seize the moment.

In his complex, they both staggered up the stairs laughing and joking. When they arrived his place was sparkling clean for once he was grateful for his OCD. He leaned in to kiss her once more. She accepts and eagerly wrapped her arms around her neck, giggling as he led her to the bedroom.

He was ready to get his dick wet.

He simultaneously unzipped her dress and unclipped her bra, a maneuver he’d mustered out of sheer luck. It’s incredible what a horny man can do.

She undid his pants. He grabbed her and shoved his tongue deeper and deeper into her mouth, taking in the sweet after-taste of wine. Yes, yes, yes, his brain screamed! It’s finally happening,

She sat up and looked at him, confused.

Mortified, he mumbled, I must have drunk too much; it just takes a little while.

Without trying to offend him, she asked, “Is there anything I can…”

Before she could finish, he grabbed her head and thrust it towards his crotch.

AH, yes, just like that yes suck it; take it all in…keep going

As much as he willed those words to be true, it wasn’t working. After a couple of minutes, he pushed off.

“You’re not doing it properly; see I can’t even get hard. You drank too much!” he yelled.

She seemed to understand, or at least he thought she did. Without looking at him she stood up and grabbed her dress which was scrunched on the floor, and picked the lingerie that hanged loosely on his bedside lamp.

“I’m going to the bathroom YOU can see yourself out, text me when you get home.”

She nodded.

She never texted when she got home and never picked his calls.

The following day he tried again she only picked up on the tenth attempt.

When can we meet again? He asked

“I… I don’t know,” she said

“For God sake Barbra be honest”

“John, I don’t think we’re compatible.”

“Fine,” he said bitterly and hanged up.

Alone in his apartment, he replayed the evening and wondered what he would have done differently. Nothing he concluded. He wasn’t at fault.