Centro Studi Pallai

You usually know him by his unmistakable arrogance, his 12 million friends who lick the dirty rubber on the soles of his boots, his prestigious place among the rest of the dumb, useless, powerless pussyfooters, and of course him always having his “pick and choose among all the women on Earth”.

Really, what a stinking load of crap.

I recall in my lifetime a few of alpha male types I met online of whom I’d tried to have romantic relationships and they’d always fallen short for various reasons. I’ve never found what I was looking for in an alpha male because I don’t want to have to compete hand over fist with anybody for all things superficial and let’s face it- alphas only get to the top spot by being competitive, domineering, and demanding of most of the things I happen to value the least in people- money, looks, fame, power, maintaining being first in pecking order, overblown egos and machismo shows of inane useless bullshit.

I am convinced the reason I never hit it off with an alpha male is because I refuse to go bounding around competing with and for men who purport wanting to have it all.

Besides I have everything I want and no man, alpha or not, has ever made me realize for myself what that is.

It’s true, my husband has never fallen flat as far as accomplishments, influence, or having uber balls, but he’s never been arrogant, ultra-competitive, or overly aggressive either when it comes to making his mark on the world. And that’s what I love about him. He’s almost the polar opposite of the alpha male and I’ve discovered, so am I.

I am not easily kept pressed under any dude’s thumb.

Some women need reassurance of themselves through “guidance”. Some need to be the lesser part of the whole and they must submerse themselves underneath a man’s feet and glue their lips to his behind.

I was once interested in a man who insisted he had to be situated in the driver’s seat. He’d always been with women who proudly perused predictable and presupposed behavior. The “yes honey, anything for you babe” type of woman who did everything in exactitude the way “men like him intended” and he even admitted it was true that he’d never been with any other kind.

He wasn’t used to a woman like me- my presence that often preceded me, how I mocked him when he acted like a showboating arrogant piece of crap, how unimpressed I was when he tried to brag about himself and how I didn’t laugh at his jokes nor concur that his most prized possession of a car was bad ass. It was a complete pile of shit. I wasn’t going to lie and agree with him and pretend that it wasn’t merely to give his dumb ass the world’s largest ego boner. Bad taste is bad taste.

Everything he was proud of about himself I found to be unmerited, unmoving, and tiresome. Anyone can brag about what they’ve accomplished, not many are willing to shut their mouths and let their behavior precede the recognition.

I don’t like men who brag, and I especially don’t like men who want you to brag to them and everyone else what they constantly never cease bragging about.

I like men who do things without the underlying assumption that people should worship the fucking ground they walk on. And truthfully, men who do things that truly matter don’t need to ensure that they matter to those who don’t.

I’m not turned on by condescending, in-demand, full-of-themselves jerk-offs.

I’ve heard a lot lately about douchebaggers taking cheap shots at women by insulting them with snide comments concerning their appearance, their accomplishments and anything else that happens to be great they have going for them. In fact, there are books lining the shelves that school men on how to take women down, notch by notch in order to manipulate them.

I’d become interested in a man I’d worked with who had shown an interest in me. And soon he’d apparently become interested in a lot of other women we worked with and he made no effort to conceal that. He’d call me at home and soon another call would come in on his line or his pager would go off (this was when people still used pagers) and it was always Nicole, Maria, Jennifer, Kaia Kitsune, etc. His harem of women, one that he was convinced I would become eager to be a part of because he was so “in-demand”.

He classified these women as dogs, hos, women he’d never claim at daylight, bodacious babes with bomb bods and everything else ridiculous he could cook up. He’d constantly talk about them, how bad they wanted him, how they’d come over to his apartment and suck him off, and how whipped they were. Luckily it only took one or two brief conversations like this before I’d cut him off, forever.

In fact, my last question to him was, “What the fuck are you doing with me then? Surely you can find someone else who is actually good enough for you can’t you?”

I did him a favor didn’t I? After all, I’m one less woman standing in the way of him taking over the entire world.

I don’t follow the status quo by wanting what everyone else does.

I once dated a “ladies’ man” and I kid you not, I couldn’t go anywhere with him without all the women we’d encountered drooling, staring, and toppling over themselves vying for his attention. We were sitting at the bar having a drink one evening and a woman out of nowhere came up and started gawking at him, mind you, while I still happened to be sitting right there between them.

I looked at her and then at him and said, “Shall I leave you two alone?” He paid her no attention and insisted he “gets that all the time”. I’d never seen anything like it.

Unsurprisingly shortly thereafter I no longer wanted to continue seeing him. I don’t know, I guess the idea of all these women throwing themselves at him wasn’t much of a turn on for me. He may even been a very nice guy and we could’ve hit it off pretty well but for what it was worth, it definitely wasn’t worth the trouble.

I figured I’d let some other girl have at it because there are plenty of other men out there I don’t have to feel like shit standing next to. Men who compliment me instead of making me feel invisible. And unfortunately alpha males can’t share the spotlight, much less let someone else have it.

I like a man somewhere in between- a man who’s got his own thing going but is proudly muted about it- someone who doesn’t have a lot to prove nor 12 million people in which to prove it, and someone who doesn’t feel compelled to subdue me with power plays and childish games involving big fat egos and pleas of “I’m the big man and I rule the roost“.

Bottom line for me is, I’m not aroused by money, conceited big heads, big self-imposing ideas, and the overblown sense of self-pride and lofty ambitions often found associated with the motivations of those who strive to be or be with the alpha male. Regardless, without me there are plenty of women out there from which they can pool who mind not feeling like stupid asses. They live to fulfill that role, I live to fulfill mine, and that involves being second to none.

Besides, sometimes a spirit is too free to be captured and conquered by anyone- a spirit like mine that can be kept by no one soul but my own. And most alpha males can’t stand that shit.