Cosmopolitan has a secret to share. Men are like exotic animals. Primitive, wild and astonishingly trainable. No longer must women put up with males who treat relationships like antelope carcasses and the world like a cave. The key is to handle them like the beasts they are.
In an article entitled “Six Ways to Train Your Boyfriend,” a group of psychologists demonstrated how to apply techniques used to train exotic animals on men.
If your man doesn’t do chores, treat him like trainers do chimpanzees. “Get on their level and play with them for five or ten minutes.” In other words, indulge his pinheaded mischief-making side, perhaps while wearing a cap with a propeller on top, then ask him to do the dishes.
If he avoids arguments it’s because he’s like a horse, a skittish creature who doesn’t respond to assertiveness. Rather than running a blitzkrieg on him, use a soothing voice to tell him what he did wrong. A guy who embarrasses you in public has a lot in common with your dog. Rather than punishing his bad behavior, ignore it, but give him a Scooby snack when he does something right.
A headstrong man should be approached like a cougar you can “bend to your will” with a non-threatening stance. Like a lion, a lazy man should be pounced on during his “productive mood.” And like elephants, unromantic guys learn by example, so demonstrate to him what a fancy candlelit dinner looks like. Then perhaps, feed him a peanut.
I see women all the time who care about shit like this. Gals with pre-written scripts in their heads about how relationships ought to play out, their boyfriends acting as male leads who should simply read their lines. If the guy improvises, he’s up crap creek without a paddle. When he buys candy instead of the flowers she expects, he gets read the riot act. He doesn’t notice how pretty she looks in a new dress, World War Three breaks out.
These women drag their boyfriends around, make them try on dumb-looking clothes, fix their hair, eye them when they speak to make sure they don’t slip up. I hear them complain to friends about how their dude doesn’t call when he’s out with friends, never considering that if they were having a more enjoyable evening themselves they might not notice.
I feel sorry for these guys like I do kids whose parents make them perform show tunes during family reunions. I also wonder why men choose such monsters.
Then I think of all the lonely women I know who only want men to reveal their true identities and allow themselves to be loved. Women who could look past a man’s clumsy courting style and domestic habits as long as he’s making an effort. Women who realize human beings are complicated, and that understanding rather than manipulation evolves souls.