Instinctive Masculine Conduct 101 (Bridging Course) (739 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.11 on 13 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by MOssiah (View user info) at 2004-04-07 18:00:46 EDT
The male code.
I don't fully understand it, yet I am still bound to it by unseen forces.
It wasn't taught to me at school, I don't remember doing Male Code 101 at university, and I can't recall it being bandied about at the pub. So... where in blue blazes did I pick it up?
At least, that was what I was thinking at 3:30am on the 1st of January, standing in a carpark on the outskirts of Delhi, covering my ribs with one hand and holding half of an Armani jacket in the other.
I am an instinctual animal. We are instinctual animals. I'd like to pretend that this wasn't the case and thus separate myself from the generalisations I place on society. To say that I'm different. I'm special.
This is unfortunately not true.
Three days leading up to this not so remarkable epiphany, I had met and begun traveling with a cousin I had never met before, and her husband. New years eve found me in an elite club. It was extravagant to say the least. I had free food, all of exquisite quality, free beer, wine, champagne, and access to top shelf spirits. All night.
I made use of these fine privileges. My host and hostess also enjoyed the bounty on display. The music was 80's remixed with Bangara, which I can't stand. So instead of standing, I danced. The alcohol helped me there. It makes the intolerable comical.
Meanwhile, my cousin, being quite a fetching young lass, had attracted the attention of a young male, who was preening himself and puffing up his feathers, trying to entice her with his colourful plumage. It must have been mating season.
Trouble.
Her husband was over there in a flash, and had the Casanova's hand twisted around and behind his back, which to onlookers would have looked like a clumsy pirouette. This invoked both fear and anger in the Romeo's visage, and then the primal pushing and chest heaving commenced.
I was standing five feet away, watching this dramatic spectacle unfold. If only there was popcorn. Nevermind, I had a martini, that would have to do for now. Four more young studs came forth to stand behind Don Juan, and the heaving and grunting reached new levels.
Fingers were raised, pointed and waved about. Even the legendary Zorro would have been impressed by the zig zags created in the air that night. One zig must have zagged a fraction too close for comfort, and my new and oh so clever relative threw the first punch, which landed quite nicely in the face of the young amorist. Normally I would have thought that odds of one on five would be a no brainer. I was right, and my unfortunate relative must have had no brain. Suddenly time seemed to slow down, and I was rushing to the middle of the ruckus whilst the four confused stallions were wondering how their valiant young leader's face had rearranged itself to have a new throbbing lip enhancement.
What the hell was I doing? I barely know this guy. Why are my feet taking me in this direction? Damn my instincts. I seems as if I have no choice in these matters. I am going to get pounded. I kind of like my face, and don't fancy a throbbing lip enhancement. Each to their own I suppose, but I quite enjoy the way my face doesn't hurt. Oh great, I'm in the middle of it now, throwing my body in front of my rash new friend. Five on two. Super. Much better odds. Confidence flowed. It flowed out of my brain, and retreated somewhere to the back of my stomach, where it made threatening gestures whilst hiding behind a large part of my dinner.
It seemed I needed no introduction, and everyone greeted me to the melee with open arms. Sure their fists were closed, and their arms might have been moving swiftly around my head, but hey, the sentiments were there.
I took a couple of jabs in the ribs. Behind me, my arrogant partner in pain was getting some facial reconstruction of his own. One of the eager participants decided that perhaps a new fashion statement was also on the cards. He accepted an elbow to the ear in return for half of my friend's suit jacket. It was a precise clean rip, and quite impressive. I would have stopped to make a closer inspection had time allowed. A small circle started to form around us. We were fighting to the tune of "One night in Bangkok" Bangara remix. Don't try this at home.
One young buck, whilst ducking my poorly directed swing, decided that five on two just wasn't fair enough odds, and brought a beer smashing down on the counter, coming at me. Whilst ducking and weaving as best I could, I saw the label and suppressed a snigger. He was coming at me with a Fosters. I couldn't believe it. Was I to be carved up with an inferior brand? How embarrassing. If someone was going to turn me into swiss cheese, they could at least use a Grolsh or a Heineken.
Fortunately, as they always have been in the past, the beer gods were with me that day. I was not cut. Bouncers came in and stopped the shenanigans, by creating an even bigger scene throwing us all out. My sister who watched the entire affair was most put out by my foolish antics and went to great lengths to describe how much of an idiot I was for my fighting capers. I told her the only thing I could.
"Uh... It's a guy thing...".
Did I say that? God that sounded stupid as it came out of my mouth. Strangely enough this was accepted without question. Was it an appropriate answer? Perhaps girls are just like us fellas, and know just as much about us, as we do about them. Nothing. If so then they do an infinitely better job at hiding it.
Hell, if I don't understand me, how can they?
User Reviews
Submitted by MOssiah (user info) at 2004-04-12 00:09:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
It's a type of music commonly played in India, involving a sithar, tabala drums and high pitched singing of both men and women. While being very popular there, it doesn't really do anything for yours truly.
Submitted by MALEFICENT1 <maleficent1111.at.yahoo.com> at 2004-04-09 06:19:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Made me laugh, but ok, whats Bangara?
Submitted by MOssiah (user info) at 2004-04-09 05:35:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Why thank you Insanethemind. Flattery will get you everywhere.
Oh wait, you're right, I'm a man. Flattery might just get you a beer.
Submitted by Insanethemind (user info) at 2004-04-09 01:19:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You might just be a man, you sexy drunken fighting beast you.
Submitted by MOssiah (user info) at 2004-04-09 00:38:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Dervel, I would have loved to have a Stella or Kronnenburg thrust into my face, but unfortunately at the nightclub in Delhi, there was none.
Not even Guiness. There was every spirit under the sun though. I would have vigourously enjoyed a good walloping with a bottle of Walker Blue, but no one was stupid enough to break it.
Submitted by Dervel (user info) at 2004-04-08 10:54:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Liked the story it made me laugh.
On to the serious subject. Beer.
Granted Fosters is shit but classing Grolsh or Heineken as superior! come on there both piss too.
Stella or Kronnenburg. If you absolutely, positively must take a bottle to the face, accept no substitute.
Pint of Guinness at a push.
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2004-04-07 20:53:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It could have been worse then foster's. If I ever get sliced by a beer bottle I hope it is Stella Atrois, maybe then I can sue them and get free beer for life...probably not though.
Submitted by smithy32 (user info) at 2004-04-07 19:50:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
made me smile
Submitted by JohnGalt (user info) at 2004-04-07 18:55:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Anjie (user info) at 2004-04-07 18:37:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I think I got the point of your post, but it was all over the place and you used too many different nicknames for your cousin..... hard to keep track.
At first I thought you were in a gay bar...
"Meanwhile, my cousin, being quite a fetching young lass, had attracted the attention of a young male, who was preening himself and puffing up his feathers"
Submitted by Tastycat (user info) at 2004-04-07 18:29:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I loved this post. Fuckin Fosters...
Submitted by Judoka (user info) at 2004-04-07 18:20:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Al_Queda (user info) at 2004-04-07 18:02:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2004-04-05 16:00:33 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2004-04-05 15:40:39 (#)
Ranking: 0
my ratings are turned off so I can't -2 you, but you're a stoopid fucking nigger/kike/arab fuckhead/muslim cocksucker/asian small cocked civic driving fuck face coke dealer/severly handicapped bed shitting cunt/mexican child rapist/brazillian fucking inbred slut.
Meh, you're just a fucking pile of streetjerk.
I FUCKED YOUR MOM