For men it varies but we've narrowed it down to a few key features namely: buttom, tut tuts (lol), dimples, buttom, nice personality, cooks, fucks (often)......among other things. Women.........well let's be honest, who knows what women really want, I doubt even women know but let's humour ourselves shall we? Nice body, built, but not too muscular, decent job, nice car, clean cut yet rugged, sensitive, yet authoritative, well-mannered yet daring......oh Jesus Christ. *slaps face
But alas, this is not a women bashing post, so where were we? Oh right, the nature of attraction. So the point goes, you essentially attract qualities akin to those that you yourself reflect. So if you're a health jumbie for instance, you're probably going to attract the same, if you're an upstanding, well to do individual, you're probably going to attract a well to do, upstanding individual. Foreigners, guess what, you're probably going to pull another foreigner, jamaican with a trini, bajan with a guyanese, etc.......except my trini posse here in Atlanta, any more closely knit and we'd be bordering on incest.
It should go without saying, that, if you're a slut.........guess what? Alrighty then. So what's my problem? I feel like I'm a well to do, upstanding guy, sensitive, funny, body-wise I'm not top notch but not bad either, I cook, I work, I have my own place/car/etc. Apart from mostly staying broke all the time, what is so wrong with me that I keep attracting wackos?
Case in point..........
Saturday night, dance ram......ah mean RAM. Man wining like snake oil going outta style, if a bum bum move, wine passing. Alcohol flowing like water, the DJ an all tight, soca jamming, dancehall running, people palancing all over. But near the end of the night, as I'm sitting, updating Facebook, a smallie slides in next to me. Now if you know me well enough, you'd know this is a big deal, no strange woman speaks to me unless she's asking for directions, or invariably to speak to the dude next to me.
She sits quickly, slips over to me seductively; she's on me before I know it. I turn, we make eye contact.....she's cute. With but the tenderest of movements she's soon whispering in my ear. With the music still playing loudly, she's hard to hear, but I know what I heard:
"Ey boy, yuh know where I could find some ecstasy to buy?"
Out of all the fellas in here, she picks me with this shit? Which of my qualities attracted this nonsense? How exactly did I pull this kunu munu? Clearly I must have missed the "Reserved for Ecstasy Dealers" sign posted on the seat behind me. Though in hindsight, with the kind of wining that was taking place prior to this encounter, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that she thought I was on something to begin with. O.o
I suppose they don't call us Winer Boy Crew for nothing.