Without a doubt, American women are the most spoiled group of women that history has probably ever seen. But how did they get this way? It’s often hard to say at what point in a woman’s life she felt entitled to the best jobs, best careers and best men without putting in a lot of effort. It might be worth examining a spoiled princess in the making.
Ashley McDonald is a journalism major attending Central Michigan University. She’s quite stunning.
I would rate her an 8 on a scale of 1-10. Virtually all men would find her attractive. Nothing on her face is out of proportion. She knows how to use makeup to accentuate her features in a pleasant way. Great smile with good dentition. Nice hair with pleasantly shaped eyebrows. An all together feminine look. She’s a woman in her prime years of beauty and sex appeal.
Ashley went on a date with a coworker that she met last year at her summer job. This is what the hapless suitor got instead:
I remember I was in a rush that morning. I was probably completing tasks for my work-from-home internship or finishing up homework for my summer classes (I was a busy gal), and I recall jumping in the shower and throwing on an old sweatshirt — one of my favorites, soft and cozy — and then heading out.
Yes, yes. “I’m such a busy girl with so many balls in the air that I can’t be troubled to look presentable for a male collegue that is interested in seeing me.”
What a joke!
Of course, the guy she was meeting took notice:
Wow, you look like crap today
You’re, like, a one out of five right now.
He exaggerates, of course. I would place her looks at about a 6 on the 1-10 scale. Her lack of attention to her appearance knocked her down two points on the beauty scale!
When Ashley challenged him, he replied:
You said I genuinely looked bad, but if it made me feel better, one out of five is the equivalent of two out of 10.
This guy has some balls! I like him!
I know that most guys would have meekly apologized or said they were just kidding when challenged by a woman this way. I know there would be a point in my past where I would have done so. But this guy knew she was disrespectful when she showed up this way, stuck to his guns and called her out on it. Bravo!
His response, seems to validate the negging concept of game that the pick-up artist (PUA) communities advocate when trying to score on dates. Usually, negging is a little more subtle. It takes the form of a back-handed compliment so that there’s plausible deniability. This guy’s neg was much more direct which may have prompted Ashley to throw a drink in his face. But she didn’t, she actually stayed with him for the duration of the date and obsessed about the incident for about a year before she blogged about it. I say mission accomplished! Negging works. It’s all about kicking out that polished pedestal that women like to put themselves onto and forcing her to deal with the man as an equal. That’s what negging is for when properly used. They may not have hit off, but when they encounter each other again along their respective career paths, she knows that this is a man she needs to respect. This is a much better outcome than being forgotten.
This is one of the things I find so infuriating with American women these days. Ashley, tries to play this off as a meeting that was mutually agreed upon among friends. No, Ashley. This guy wanted to date you and you half-assed it.
Don’t misunderstand me. Some women aren’t really into following all the fashion and beauty trends and dress like they just rolled out of bed. In that case, we can take her or leave her.
But in Ashley’s case, she normally uses make-up at least. Her other blog entries describe how she still manages to buy makeup and other beauty essentials on a light, college student budget. We can almost certainly infer that she tries to look presentable for her friends when they go out, or when she goes on job interviews, or even when she’s at work (which probably enticed the guy to talk to her and ask her out in the first place).
So showing up on the date (or “hanging out”, if you will) looking like she did was very disrespectful. What is the guy suppose to think about this?
Russian women, on the other hand, always try to look their best–even when they are going out in public and not expecting to meet anybody. So we American men can either vote with our feet and go abroad for women that can show respect for us. Or we can start calling out these poor excuses we call the American woman.
How does this all start?
This begs the question as to how Ashley became this way to begin with. We can glean some clues from her other blog entries.
In How My Scars Changed the Way I See Beauty, she describes some very prominent scars due to a corrective surgery in her past. She was always self-conscious of them. It seemed to have taught her a degree of modesty earlier in her life.
That seemed to change once she started dating and guys were kissing her ass about how beautiful they were just so they can see her naked. Now she thinks she knows a thing or two about beauty and doesn’t need to show up on a date looking presentable.
In The Truth About How Love Happens Ashley, presents her dating resume that begins with her first love at 15 years old followed by a string of failed loves because none of them were measuring up to the 15-year-old love and she knew they wouldn’t last:
A couple of other loves came along. There was the love that, in the end, was really only a friendship love. There was the college love, so unfamiliar and new and exciting (no curfew; no open-door rules!). And all of these loves were diverse and special, but none were meant to conclude my dating life, and deep down, I always knew it.
So we can establish that there is no shortage of male attention for Ashley. Her pedestal grows like the erection of a 16-year-old.
As a senior in college she’s swept off her feet, yet again, by an out-of-town love who must leave her to return home but promises to meet her again and feels so empty inside that her father needs to cheer her up at a family gathering.
A few hours later, surrounded by family at a post-Fourth celebration, my dad sat next to me, rocking gently in a chair, an uncharacteristically pensive expression on his face. And then he turned to me. “A guy like him can be worth waiting for,” he said.
Great! So, not only does Ashley already have an extensive list of boyfriends (and presumably many more that are pining for her–she’s an 8 after all), she has parents that are enabling her.
This is how an American princess is born folks. This should be a warning for parents (especially for the fathers) to get more involved moderating their daughter’s love life. I fear it may be too late for Ashley. She thinks that she already learned her lessons:
The truth about love is that it can happen at any moment. It can happen right away, like it did for my mother. It can happen in five years, six months. Or it can happen in just two weeks. It’s not the amount of time that counts; love itself is timeless. It’s the feeling in your gut, the special sense, that thing where you just know.
She may, in fact, find love on her terms. In this day and age, it would be like winning the lottery. When she’s thirty and her biological clock is chiming loudly, she’ll be singing a different tune and wonder where all the men have gone. And for the most part, it’s because she hasn’t taken her love life seriously.
I can’t blame Ashley. She is a product of our times like the rest of us. It’s funny really. We can teach them about sex and make sure they have easy access to birth control and abortions–which is considered progress in our liberally enlightened world. But then send them off into the meat market that is the American dating scene without any guidance at all.