rebel without a cause

After years of being attracted to the wrong guy – and by wrong I mean, the emotionally unavailable, the guy who had an ‘overseas’ girlfriend, the sex addict, the dj at that cranking party… lets not list all of my downfalls in one go, mostly because there is only so much squirming one can do in a swivel chair. The point is, that these men all had something in common, they were bad.

Abundant were (and maybe still are) the pictures of the original bad boy James Dean upon my notice board. It almost seemed as though I had to seek out professional help, until I discovered that I was not the only female who seemed to be attracting these not so rare specimens of bad boys. With this revelation came many late nights of reading, researching and doing some field work of my own – I became an anthropological observer of the bad boy, and oh how I have revelled in the power my new found knowledge. I feel it is only my responsibility to share these findings.

A bad boy is that guy that just knows how to talk to the ladies without coming off too cocky, he isn’t particularly the most attractive man to grace the surface of the earth, but by golly is he confident – and even if he isn’t he appears to be. His unexpected approach, which catches you off guard reels you in and needless to say makes your heart flutter. Us ladies seem to spot him from miles away and gravitate to the wooing ways of these men. If you are dealing with an up and coming bad boy sometimes a lady will see the game he is playing and revel in his efforts, only to wittily catch him out. But most of the time these bad boys have been educated by le crème della crème. What about those sweet nothings the guy from last week at that exclusive party was whispering in your ear you ask? These bad boys have got those covered too and needless to say most females falls into the bad boy web that they have been spinning, for say approximately 2 minutes (that’s how fast they are).

Just a few weeks ago, as my wing woman and I scoped out the dance floor for the talent, my lovely lady friend pointed out ‘sweater boy’. An average height 20-something fellow sporting a polo sweater and a white collard shirt, automatically we both swooned. A ‘bad boy’ in every sense of the word, he had that exuding aura of confidence and boy could we feel it. We kept loosing him throughout the night, but every time we would see him again (did I mention he had a good butt?) we would see him with two different ladies on each arm. I felt like letting off an SOS signal in the middle of the dance floor and screaming ‘DON’T BE FOOLED HE IS A BAD BOY…HE WILL NEVER CALL YOU BACK…EVER!’ As the night turned into dusk we saw him leaving the club with two ladies, we knew that the walk of shame for those two ladies the next morning would be one of extreme proportions.

So that’s that, an intro, but nowhere near a conclusion to the bad boy. Don’t say you haven’t been warned! - Agi