The Primal Instinct

cavemanCocky to the extreme and certain in his ability to charm the pants or skirts of off women, Francois is as French as you can get. And he is currently my student.

Did I mention I manage a department in an international school downtown? Sounds impressive, I know. However, it mainly consists of me listening to online dating stories of another manager, who is currently trying to get laid on a site. But that’s a whole other story.

The fact that I haven’t had any sex in months now doesn’t help when I have to work with attractive students only a few years my minor. Maybe I should be the one looking for a quickie on a site, however, thankfully I haven’t sunk so low.

Francois is obnoxious, loud, speaks in a stereotypically French accent (seems like half of it might even be put on), eyes women indiscreetly and is a pain in the ass to teach as he thinks he is above every other commoner. Homevorke? Vy should I do ze homevorke? It is like, you know, fois gras? Zey take ze meat from ze duck. Zis is how I feel ven I do homevorke! 

He pretty much speaks like he is buying a croissant. Twenty four-seven.

Unfortunately, my hormones are that of an eighteen year old girl and the fact that he annoys me doesn’t stop me from getting excited every time he looks at me. Is that crazy? Pathetic is more like it.

The other day, I was out in the hall when he saw me. He then did something simple,yet primal and sexual.

He looked me up and down. But not just that, his eyes dragged across my body in slow motion, letting me see that he was observing every inch of me. Even his eyes darkened with lust. The boy knew exactly what he was doing. And the amount of guts he had to have to assess me as if I wasn’t his teacher or his senior but a girl he wanted to rip the clothes off of and drag off to a cave somewhere was incredible.

I should have been indignant. How dare he?

I am sorry to all my feminist readers (if I have any). I was not.  I felt a bit uncomfortable, sure. My status as a teacher has suddenly diminished and I felt completely vulnerable, like a high school girl would feel… No matter the fact that he is five years younger than me. And I will be honest – that raw, primal gaze got my heart beating extremely fast.

Sure, Francois is a good looking guy. Sure, he knows it and flaunts it. But he tapped into something many women in North America are not used to getting anymore. And that is the honest, sexual, no excuses gaze from a man. It is not “Heyyy, girl, yo lookin sexay!” from a car speeding 60 miles per hour. It is not grinding from the back (does anyone actually do that anymore?) It is definitely not trying to appear less invested than the girl is.

It just is. The sexual gaze. The sign of interest. The intrigue. The lust at its basic form.

I don’t know about the rest of the girls in North America or the girls who are reading this, but I am almost sure they will agree with me here. We all want a quality guy. Someone who doesn’t hit on every girl, someone who treats you with respect, blah blah. I want that too.

But unlike French. Italian and Argentinian girls or even the girls residing in places like Miami, we are not used to the constant sexual tension surrounding us. In Canada men try not to appear too invested, too interested, too obvious, too direct. They push down their natural instinct, not even to do something extreme like look a girl up and down, but to even look at her. And I mean REALLY look at her. Lock their eyes with her, flirt with a look, drag your gaze on, let her know you notice her.

Francois might be the example of the extreme. Yet he tells me (and I believe him)- girls come up to me. I do not know vy? Zey jus do!

And why do you think that is?

Maybe they are so used to being ignored by the other men, that they yearn for a sign of male appreciation. Even if it is as vulgar as an assessment from head to toe. After this long, tedious, cold winter where we seemed to freeze over emotionally, we all need the scent of intrigue and possibility in the air.

No, you don’t need to put on a fake French accent. You just need to focus your gaze, show real interest and not worry that she might not feel the same. That’s her choice. Your choice is to be a real man or a lame guy who yells after a woman from the safety of a  moving car.

Which one gets the girl?


 

 

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Reasons for Moving to Montreal: Men

guy“Fuck, that’s a hot dress” a drunken guy yelled at me as I got off the streetcar in Toronto.

“Do you really have to use fuck when complimenting a woman?” I really was trying to see if he would grasp the concept of classiness.

“I’m not tryina pick you up” he grumbled angrily.

I sighed, exasperated. Trying to get some understanding into this guy would be like banging your head against a brick wall.

This is just one person, you might say. One example of a drunken guy trying to chat up a girl. Having lived in Toronto all of sixteen years now, I can safely say this classless boy is my representation of the guys in the city.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that all Toronto guys lack class, but they surely are lost when dealing with a woman.  I used to think that it is the way it’s supposed to be. It’s normal to walk down the street and not be acknowledged with a smile or a meaningful glance from an attractive guy. But when it becomes nearly impossible to meet a quality man on the streets, bars and at events, a girl really begins to run out of options.Men flirting with woman on street

This is why I love Montreal. Only five hours away from Toronto, it has a culture unique to our typically North American city. Even with its freezing, depressing winters and piles of snow, Montreal has retained an air of possibility that Toronto simply lacks (but the damn snow, alas – not). I can walk through the streets and be met with inquiring, interested and flirty gazes. I can look at the guy I am interested in and get a real reaction, unlike the glassy, scared deer in the headlights look I get in Toronto.  Let me really break down why I believe artsy Montreal has way more potential than busy Toronto.

1. Guys are much cuter. Not only that, their eyes flicker with a spark, a sense of interest… while Torontonians generally look bland with eyes that express nothing

2. They know how to dress

3. The know how to flirt. They can strike up an interesting conversation, during which they look you in the eyes and seem actually interested in what you have to say instead of too busy thinking how to get with you. Toronto guys on the other hand, really don’t know how to approach you in a classy way. This is the way I have been flirted with in the past.

a.       Hey, so my friend is thinking of getting a beard. What do you think?(The friend comes up conveniently) Beard, no beard?

b.      Hi, uh. So you come here often, uh? (eyes are usually huge and all over the place)

c.       Dude, look at your shirt. That’s awesome. You’ve been to Costa Rica! High five! (I unwillingly raise my hand so he doesn’t look completely lame. I can’t believe I have just been called ‘dude’. I can assure you I don’t look like one)

d.      Awkwardly staring. Even if I smile, he doesn’t approach.

e.      Heyyyy, whereyougoingprettygurl? (drunken group slur)Comeback! Wewannatalktoya.

While Montreal flirting usually goes along the lines of simple:

a.       Hello, I am Frederick. What is your name?

Easy, breezy and under control.

3.       Men have more of a sense of who they are. They have a culture, an individuality, a personality and something to say. They do not use lines from “The Anchorman” or “The Game”. They do not treat you as a “dude”. They are quite aware that you are a lady and should be treated as such.

4.      The hipsters ACTUALLY have a personality! Whereas the Toronto hipsters are a pretentious wannabee sack of nothing interesting to say and no personality underneath all that get-uppretentious_hipster_by_jakumetsu-d3be765

5.       There is a sense of playfulness and possibility in the air, whereas Toronto lacks all of the above.

I am aware that Toronto women are partly responsible for the lack of action on the guys’ part. I know from talking to countless guys that their bitchy attitude scarred the guys for life and now they are too wounded to make a move. So, they would rather pretend they are better than you or ignore you. The reality is that even if they do talk to you, there is no sense of spontaneity in them. The conversations are a bit pre-programmed and even the voices sometimes sound robotic. I used to try all sort of book methods such as smiling, approaching even and asking questions that might lead to a conversation. I used to think it was me that did not make enough effort. Montreal shows all girls that there is no such thing. That we do not have to make it seventy percent easier for the men, but instead the men should find the courage to approach you. You smile to the man and BAM, he smiles back, following it up with the approach. This is the way it used to be and we seemed to lose all sense of this flirty culture, if we ever had it to begin with. Yes, our economy is better, but the passion truly thrives in Montreal.

Please share where you live and how it compares to my observations.

For all Us Passionate Girls

I am a passionate girl. Which means that I want to feel it, I want the guy to show it and I find it hard to live without it. Unfortunately I do, on a daily basis.

If I picture my perfect love life it is always accompanied by some sort of a beach, a flowy dress and bare feet with a lot of running, dancing and kissing. Unfortunately for me, no matter how desperate I am to feel passion, it feels as if I’m a always pushing for it.. But never really feel it. I want to shake with desire. I want to do crazy things and I want to feel crazy over someone, even if it is later accompanied by a lot of tears and sad music.away-field-girl-red-dress-running-Favim.com-161462

However, just as I crave passion, I also tend to be quite passionate about expressing my anger with a guy. There are some girls that can calmly wait out a situation, then turn it around in their favor. I am in awe of them. If I get mad, I’m like a bottle of soda you shake for too long. Reason fades away. Logic remains, but it is expressed in a pretty loud way. I need the guy to understand why I’m mad. I need to talk it over. NOW. Or I will burst. Afterwards, when I’m done exploding, and we a talk it over, the whole matter is usually done with. I become calm and reasonable and happy.

Don’t think that I attack men with scissors, or throw dishes at them. But I need to get out my anger and frustration right away. Otherwise I will not be able to do anything. Here’s a great example: you had a bit of a fight with your boyfriend and never made up. You talked it over calmly, both said sorry, but he never kissed you afterwards. Just left you hanging. You both get into bed, he hugs you good night and that’s it. Just falls asleep. In the last case, this happened to me while visiting my ex (long distance) boyfriend two days ago. Strangely enough, an identical accident occurred with my previous ex-long distance boyfriend two years ago. Maybe, a reasonable girl would go to sleep and deal with it in the morning. What does a crazy girl like me do?

  1. Roll on the other side of the bed. As physically far away from his as possible. (Without falling)
  2. When he asks what’s wrong say “Nothing…” Whilst fuming terribly.
  3. As he falls asleep, become infuriated again. How the hell does he not know I am mad?
  4. Start fuming loudly.
  5. He asks what’s wrong again. Say “You know what’s wrong.”
  6. When he fails to understand and falls asleep again, begin making strange sobbing noises
  7. When he doesn’t respond, saunter into another room and sit there fuming and making a mix of slobbering/sobbing/angry noises so the jerk finally wakes up. I mean how can he sleep peacefully when I am so upset?
  8. When he finally comes out and looks at you in an exasperated manner, start blaming him of being cold. Not affectionate. That you feel like you are married with him for years.
  9. When he asks you to come to bed, stay seated and angry, wanting him to plead more.
  10. Finally getting tired of the stupidity and wanting to cuddle against him you shuffle back to the bed, yearning with all your heart for him to hug you and kiss you and tell you how much he needs you. And maybe some make-up sex?make-up-sex-couple-dating-flirting-ecards-someecards

This is a truthful example of what happened to me two years ago and this is very similar to what happened two days ago when a long distance boyfriend I went to visit for three days pulled this on me. This time I wasn’t as crazy as what I portrayed, but I was so upset that I couldn’t sleep for hours and paced around the living room sobbing. I think there’s nothing worse than being with a guy who no longer wants to have sex with you. And you begin feeling like a block of wood next to him.

The next morning I thought that we resolved everything and still he never made a move on me. Even in the morning, when it looked like we finally made up, he didn’t want to spend another minute in bed with me, but suggested we get up early to go to mass. To pray for my sins, I suppose?

At  this point, I got so upset that I acted like a complete girl – turned around and started crying. How sexy, right? I was leaving the next day and he preferred to go to church instead of spending time with me, instead of any intimacy. When I told him I was thinking of catching the next bus back home, he told me I was immature. When I asked him if he would stop me he  said “No.” That he would if he were in high school, that this was too much for him and even though he knew I was hurt he ‘couldn’t do anything’.

huggingDo anything? All we really need sometimes, as girls, is for the man to hug us, kiss us and tell us he needs us. This is not rocket science. And I truly believe that it’s better to express yourself and be passionate, then to go through your life second guessing every action, being careful not to say the wrong thing and not acting on instinct.

I would never hit a guy, but if I did, I want someone who would envelop me in his arms and tell me how ridiculous our fight is. I want a strong man who would not let me leave. He would go after me and grab my bag out of my arms, so I would stay. I want a man who can give me both passion and reason with me when I’m being ridiculous. But love me because I am that ridiculous sometimes. Especially when I get mad.

What about all of you, girls?

Ten Signs you are a Single Girl in your Late 20s

  1. You have a whole library of books with promising titles like “Why Men Love Bitches” with an ever exciting sequel called “Why Men Marry Bitches”, “He’s Just Not that Into You” (which you forget as soon as you read it and have to re-read again in order not to fall prey to yet another guy who doesn’t want you)
  2. You have memorized parts of dating books and proudly narrate them to your girlfriends in times of their yet another romantic crisis (show him you’re independent! Get him to chase YOU), yet break the rules yourself constantly. “He has to be into me if he was touching me all night.” and “Maybe I intimidated him so he never got the guts to ask for my number. Yes, we kissed. What does that have to do with that?”
  3. You are told constantly that you are ‘too picky’ and need to settle down already. When are you going to start having babies? In your 30s? Did you know how difficult it is to have a sleepless night in your 30s? And how pathetic it is to see an OLD woman in a club wearing leopard tights scoping out a man!
  4. You are on OKCupid, POF or eHarmony. You get all excited when you sign up and get a million messages. Then once it all dies down, you realize that these sites are just like a cheap store. Many bright colors but really static material. All made in China. No pun intended.
  5. You go through Facebook invites for every party hoping there is someone there worth going for.
  6. Some people care about seeing the wonders of the world or learning a new skill when they go away. You pick out your vacations in the hopes of meeting the guy of your dreams (foreign would do!), having a romantic week and then a wonderful long distance relationship during which he confides in you that he has never felt this way, asking you to sponsor him from Cuba because he would love to spend the rest of his life with YOU. In New York.

    Ok, I am in the City of Love. Where are you? Bonjour?

    Ok, I am in the City of Love. Where are you? Sexy French man?

  7. You get yourself pumped for a night on the town with your other desperate girlfriends. Instead you stand around fully made-up drinking an over-priced Margarita and exchanging a few polite words, hoping someone would finally approach you. When they do, it’s yet another Indian guy thinking he’s Italian.
  8. You try to avoid hanging out with your ‘coupled’ friends, but every time you do you make sure to have a great story showcasing your amazing single life. As in “So I have these two guys. One is great in bed, but the other is wealthy. What do I do?” Then you imagine how boring it must be for them to no longer have any sex and how much sex you could (potentially) be having.
  9. You have heard the line “Love will come when you are not looking for it” a million times. How does that even work? Maybe you can stop looking and just go out for some drinks tonight. THEN, when you are least expecting it you will see him out of the corner of your eye.. Your dream man. All because you weren’t looking! Except that means you are still looking. Damn.
  10. You do not have the sex life of anyone in “Sex and the City”. Even Charlotte. And she’s supposed to be the prude.