The Deal-Breakers

Forgive me while I get a little "Seinfeld-ian" on you for a moment.  No, I'm not talking about "Being the master of your domain," or living across the hall from a crazy neighbor.  I mean, we've all been there, right?  I mean, the crazy neighbor part, am I right?

Whatever, you know what I mean.  Anyway, I'm talking about deal-breakers.  Those little, or maybe not so little, character or personality traits that make it absolutely impossible to continue dating someone.  I actually know a couple that got divorced because of a disagreement over how to install the toilet paper.  The man wanted it over the top, the woman liked it from underneath (stop it, you perverts).  Months later I was having a few drinks with the woman in the couple and she also mentioned that her ex also insisted on not putting down the toilet seat.  Of course there HAD to be more going on that mere bathroom disagreements, but these were, apparently, the little things that broke the came's back, the deal-breakers the ended up destroying a marriage.

Of course, we're all familiar with some of the deal-breakers Jerry had to deal with, such as "man-hands" the "annoying laugh" and the "close talker."  Obviously, these are more than just minor flaws that can be overlooked.  But then again, you might not have such an aversion to a Fran Drescher-like cackle or you might not be so protective of your personal space.  Let's face it, hopefully we're not all as neurotic as Jerry and the gang.  But even if we're relatively normal, sane people, we all still have deal-breakers that can destroy a promising and budding relationship in mere seconds.

Figure It Out:

For bachelors, the deal-breaker can come at any time, and, maybe not so surprisingly, they don't have to be major issues.  In other words, ladies, there is no "Book of Deal-Breakers" out there you can read that will help you avoid doing or saying something that will lead to the ultimate demise of your growing love.

And guys, we all know the mantra, "All Women Are Crazy", don't we?  It's true, as most of you know quite well.  However, the opposite also holds truth; "All Men Are Stupid."  Some are more stupid than others, just as some women are more crazy than others.  I'll rehash the Crazy vs. Stupid list in an upcoming post, but in the meantime, just understand that we are all working from the same base of knowledge; Women = crazy, Men = stupid.

I bring this up because simply being crazy or stupid isn't, necessarily, a deal-breaker by itself.  The only exception is if the person in question falls into the extreme crazy or stupid category.  In other words, they have to be at a high "level 5" or firmly ensconced in "level 6" in order to use that as a quantifiable deal-breaker.

Let's Define:

So what exactly IS a deal-breaker?  To put it simply, it's a behavior, personality or character trait that makes the other person either suddenly unattractive or completely un-date-able.  Sometimes you won't know what this is until you see it action.  For some, a deal-breaker might be the fact that someone is a smoker.  For others it's the fact that the fancy of their eye wants to move to Alabama.  For others still, a deal breaker can be as innoccuous as the way they eat their breakfast cereal.  You just never know.

Years ago, I used to date a woman who, on the whole, was a really good catch.  Smart, funny, very attractive.  We worked together in the newsroom but managed to keep it pretty low-key and didn't mix business with pleasure, so to speak. 

We were together for about four months (which is my typical relationship length), when we both started to get on each others nerves a bit.  This happens, as you all know.  One of the biggest issues I had with her was her tendency to talk in a little girl/baby voice.  It annoys me when any woman does it.  It's creepy and it's not attractive. 

I had mentioned this to her several times before, but for some reason she insisted on doing it.  And every time, I'd ask her to stop it.  One night at dinner, she started up with her little girl voice, all whiny and high pitched, and I knew right away it was over.  We broke up soon afterwards.

For me, the little girl voice was a deal breaker.  I have a few others that some of you might be able to relate to:

1. High Maintenance - This is kind of hard to define sometimes, but, like porn, I might not be able to describe it, but I know it when I see it.  Most of the time, high maintenance women think more about themselves than they do the person they're with.  They have impossibly high standards, they expect perfection and they rarely cut their significant other any slack at all. 

2.  Mean Women - We all know these types.  Women that are unnecessarily mean for practically no reason.  They're either bitter or insecure or simply unhappy people that take out their frustrations on others.  Given the current news cycle dealing with bullying, they'd best be described as bullies.

3.  Being Too Clingy/Needy - Listen, I've been told on more than one occasion that I'm too clingy at times or too needy.  I get it.  It's annoying beyond belief.  There's not space to breath, no room to stretch your wings and fly.  Being overly clingy and needy suffocates a relationship and doesn't allow the other person to really be who they are or grow into who they want to be.

4.  Long Distance Relationships - Won't do them.  Never have, never will.  They just don't work out.  YEs, there are the few anectdotal stories, but for the most part they cause nothing but pain in the end, and who needs that?

5.  No Sense of Humor - Hey, I like to laugh.  I like to make others laugh.  I can overlook a LOT of things, I mean, hey, I'm no Bradd Pitt, I have flaws, so I don't expect my girlfriend to be perfect either.  But is it too much to ask that they have a good sense of humor?  We don't have to laugh at the same things.  We'll have different ideas of what is funny.  But at least they had better have an idea of what's funny and enjoy laughing out loud a lot.  No sense of humor equals a lack of personality in my book and that, my friends is a real deal breaker.

I don't have a ton of deal-breakers, but that might be because I'm a pretty laid back guy.  So, while I'm not a Jerry Sienfeld who freaks out at the sight of overly large female hands or doesn't understand the numbering system on a speed-dial and gets annoyed when someone calls and says "it's me" instead of their name, I still have a few hang-ups.  Heck, we all do.

What are your deal-breakers?  Let's make this a fun exercise in listing the myriad of peronality traits, actions and quirks that we, as a dating majority, simply can't overlook in others.  I'm curious to hear from the women as to what drives them crazy or what is an absolute no-no from the bachelors in their lives.

I'm looking forward to your answers.  And, as always, your comments will be treated with kid gloves.  I'll post your answers in an upcoming post, so make sure to watch for that.

Until next time, ciao!
(said in a manly voice and NOT a little baby voice)

Be A Lover, Not A Fighter

I have seen Jean Claude Van-Damme, and apparently, he's a 16-year old guitar playing freak who fritters away his youthfull Thursday nights at Lanny's Clocktower in downtown Denver.  Okay, to be fair, I'm not really CERTAIN that it was ol' Jeane Claude himself, but don't mention that to the guy who is probably still recovering from a smarting face wound, nearly a week later.  And by face wound, I don't mean a nick, scrape or cut.  I mean his entire face was just one, big, bruise.  Here, let me explain.

I was recently at Lanny's, which by the way, if you ever want to check out some good music and fun burlesque, it's THE place to go in Denver.  Anyway, I was there to support a good cause and catch some cool blues.  I took a seat in the back of the theater, had a few whiskey and coke's, a couple of martini's, made unusually long eye contact with my cute but butchy waitress and decided to check out around 10:30. 

At one point, right before I took my leave, I noticed that a scrawny, young-looking, glasses wearing, dapper looking kid was exchanging a few words with a couple of shabby musician types on the sunken main floor.  I recognized the kid.  He had been playing guitar with the blues band performing during the benefit show.  From my perch above the main floor, I could see the kid was trying not to get involved with these two, ahem, gentlemen, who seemed to have an issue with him. 

He looked frail, he was skinny, he was dressed in a nice vest, crisp shirt, pressed slacks, shiny shoes.  He looked "snappy" as my grandmother might say.  At first glance, he looked to be no match for these two older, larger men he was arguing with.  But a closer look revealed something else.  There was a hardness to him, an edge about the way he held his posture and didn't seem to back down from his antagonists.  From experience, I guaged him as someone I probably wouldn't actively pick a fight with.  It turns out, I was right.

As I was leaving, giving last second hugs and saying my goodbyes, the trio made their way to the upstairs lobby.  This is where I found them as I made my way out of the clock tower, on my way to meet some friends at another bar.  As I was standing on the steps, I could hear the argument getting heated and I stopped to watch what would happen.  Not that I was likely to get involved, but it didn't seem fair, two against one, and I would probably have tried to step in and break up any fight that might have occurred.  Fortunately, I didn't have to.

Because, and this is where it gets interesting, one of the larger men took a swing at the kid.  As usual, it happened suddenly, but with some telegraphing.  The larger man was getting angrier, his voice reaching a high pitch, fists clenched, he widened his stance and leaned in a little too close.  Classic signals that a punch was probably on its way.  Typically, the punch was wide, a rabbit punch that starts from behind the head and swings out wide before coming into its target.  Some call it a haymaker, I call it a bad punch.

The kid barely moved.  In a flash he moved a little to his left, grabbed the man's arm and in one, sweeping motion, pulled the man off balance and shoved his face into the wall behind him.  And then it was over.  One attempted punch, a face to the wall and the larger guy crumpled like wet sack.  The kid didn't gloat or throw a punch or kick the guy when he was down.  He simply looked at fellow's friend as if to say, "Are you next?"  At which point the other guy backed down and went to go care for his friend as the kid turned to go back into the bar.  That's when I figured I should leave.  Nothing to see here, folks, go home.

I hate to say it, but I saw that coming.  Well, not EXACTLY like that, but I did walk away from the clocktower pleased with my initial assessment of the kid and his fighting prowess (although to be fair, I thought he'd be more of a scrapper, not so much a crazy kung fu fighter).

Fight or Flight:

For those that aren't familiar with me, I have a little experience in this field.  I have been known to get a little "fighty" at times, particularly after six or seven shots of tequila.  I've done my share of fighting, won some, lost more than I care to count, spent a few too many nights in the overnight lock-up because of it.  Not proud of it, mind you, but it is what it is. 

Besides knowing how much bail is for disturbing the peace and assault is, these experiences have also given me some insight into the wonderful world of the bar-fight.  Nothing is quite as violently funny as a good old fashioned bar-fight.  Rarely does anyone get seriously hurt, and usually it starts over the most idiotic of reasons.

Among the insights I have gleaned in my years of scraping and cell-phone hurling in bars late at night is how to recognize when a fight is about to happen.  I also have learned how to pick your fight, or, more importantly, WHO to pick your fight with.

When I was in college, I used to bounce at a bar called, "The Walrus."  It's a typical college bar.  Full of drunk girls, surly bartenders, loud music and hormone and whiskey fueled man-boys.  It was a safe bet that if it was Saturday or Friday, there was a fight brewing at The Walrus.  Sometimes it happened without any warning, but more often than not, you could see it coming a mile away.  For instance, I had a good friend who was normally a happy-go-lucky guy.  But get a few shots of Jack Daniels in him and Mr. Jeckyl turned into Mr. Hyde.  He'd get a look in his eye, a grin on his face and he'd slam his shot glass down or throw it to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces and exclaim, "I feel ROWDY!" 

At that point, it was time to, A) get him out of the bar as quickly as possible.  Or B) Remove yourself from the situation and hope you don't get an early morning phone call for bail money.  I liked this guy.  We were friends for years, but after a while, you get tired of having to pull his bacon out of the fire as he picked fights with anyone within spitting distance.

Years later, as I began working in radio, my buddy Darren and I would often find ourselves facing down combatants.  In one memorable year, it seemed that every time we went out to a bar, we ended up getting into a fight, or nearly starting a riot.  As usual, these incidents started over the dumbest of things.  Getting bumped by someone at the bar, being douchebags at the bar, spilling a drink on me at the bar, or vice-versa.  Mostly it had to do with basic bar etiquette. 

One night at a bar called Williams, in LoDo, the lights came up, and the bouncers were trying to herd everyone out of the bar.  It was crowded, it was hot, we were all drunk.  I was standing on a barstool when the bartender pushed me off into the crowd of humanity.  As I turned to talk to Darren, a large guy bumped into me, hard.  My temper flared, I said something, he said something back and then, IT WAS ON!  I handed my cellphone to Darren for safekeeping and followed the man out the door.  I was furious, blinded with rage.  As we stepped out the door I took a swing (in the style of the aforementioned rabbit punch) andmissed terribly.

The man had seen it coming (who couldn't?) and ran into the street to avoid my, admittedly, sucker punch.  He nearly got hit by a car.  The guys little friend stood alongside us, Darren was behind me, holding my phone up, ready to smash it on the head of the guys friend if he got involved.  The guy took a swing at me, he missed, I swung back and connected, but did no damage.  It was like to very drunk Archie Bunkers trying somehow stagger their way to knockout victory.  A clash of the titans, it was not.

A crowd only half interested watched as we exchanged punches.  And then we heard it...police sirens.  We froze.  People started to scatter.  My opponents' little friend said desperately, "What are we fighting for?  The cops are coming!"  Suddenly we sobered up and realized how stupid we were being.  I apologized, the man apologized, the little guy apologized, Darren held my phone over his head, ready to strike, just in case it was all an evil ploy.  We all then came in, gave each other a hug and walked briskly away from the scene of our drunken struggle.

Typically, this is how a lot of bar-fights go.  Punches are thrown, maybe they connect, but the damage is never too bad. Yes, there are those fights where knives are pulled, or worse, guns.  But most bar fights involve two guys chest bumping and trash talking and hoping to God that someone holds them back so they don't really have to, you know, fight.

And trust me, no matter how careful you are, no matter what you try to do to avoid a scrape, it's almost inevitable, guys, that at some point, you're going to find yourself in a fight in a bar or on the street outside of a bar.  It happens, and the best you can hope for is that it's over quickly, and that your face doesn't get smashed by a big, beefy fist somewhere along the way.

So, with that in mind, here are some tips that have to deal with your typical, run of the mill bar-fight.  First, I'll give you some tips on recognizing when a fight is bound to happen.  Then, and maybe more importantly, some tips on emerging victorious if you absolutely can't get out of the impending bar-brawl.

See It Coming:

There are a few ways to tell that a fight is coming, whether it's with you or within your vicinity.

1.  Watch for the posturing - Guys who are ready for a fight have a particular posture.  Generally they move in close to whoever they're arguing with.  Their feet are spread in a solid stance, they bow their neck, trying to look taller and one or both of their arms are slightly behind them, as if being loaded and readied to strike.


2.  It's In The Voice - When guys are gearing up to fight, they don't always yell at the top of their lungs.  They're volume is probably only slightly louder than usual.  But it's uneven.  There's a nervousness or maybe they're so angry they can't control their voice.  Either way, it's cracked a little, breathy and uneven.  When it reaches this point, you can bet fists will be flying soon.


3.  Don't Crowd Me - If it's just two guys squaring off in a bar, chances are, neither one wants to really escalate to fisticuffs.  However, if one of the participants has a "posse" or is with a group of friends, or, god forbid, a girl, the macho takes over and the brain shuts down.  It's almost impossible for a guy to back down if the challenge has been made in front of a group of friends.  Something about losing face.  Regardless, be very wary of angry dudes with a group of friends.  It's a fight just waiting to happen.

Now, onto what really matters:

If you absolutely, positively HAVE to fight, here are some tips to making sure you're not the one that ends up in traction, or worse, in jail.

1.  Choose your fight wisely - This isn't as easy as it sounds.  I mean, the very fact that you're plunging into a bar-fight means you're probably drunk and your faculties are suspect.  However, try to look for a few telltale signs that you might be able to win the fight.  
     a.  Your opponents build - is he short, skinny, fat, ripped, tall?  This matters a little, but not as much as you might think.  Some fat guys can take a punch and pack a wallop, while some in shape guys go down faster than Frazier vs. Tyson.  Some small guys are, like the kid mentioned above, are scrappy and hard to hit.  
     b.  How drunk are they?  The drunker they are, the worse they'll be at fighting.  This is a general rule, but be careful...I knew a guy in college that, when drunk, could (and did more than once) get the crap beat out of him, and still not go down.  But by and large, the drunk ones don't fight well.
     c.  Their eyes - You can tell a lot by looking at their eyes.  As you approach, how do they react?  Do their eyes dart around looking for a way out or help?  Do they initially back down or flinch before finding their courage?  Or do they stare back, clear and angry and filled with steely resolve.  I've looked into the eyes of men much smaller than me and I could tell not only were they ready to fight, they WANTED to fight.  The eyes will tell you what you need to know.


2.  No Group Sessions - If you're being called out by a guy with a bunch of friends at his back, it's best to just walk away if you can.  The fact that he has a group behind him makes it less likely that he'll back down, plus he'll probably fight harder so he won't be embarrassed in front of his buds.  That and the fact that if you start to win, you'll still be vastly outnumbered...think "Custer".  If you can't avoid the fight, make sure you try to keep the group in front of you, don't circle around if possible so that the group is ever at your back.  Finally, as you're fighting, a steady retreat, away from the group is recommended.  They'll follow, but you'll be setting yourself up for an easier escape if they decide to jump in at any time.


3.  Punch First - Yes, I know, this isn't the chivalrous thing to do, but hey, it's a bar-fight.  The fact is, if you throw the first punch and connect, the fight will probably be over before it ever gets started.  Don't wait for the other guy to attack.  Just jab him in the face and watch him go down.  This is only if the fight is absolutely inevitable.  


4.  Keep your balance - The nice thing about bar-fights is that they usually involve two really drunk guys.  In the end, my experience has been that the one with the better balance generally wins.  That means no throwing your entire body behind your punch.  You don't need that much force usually, and when you throw your shoulder into your punch, you'll lose your balance.  The most effective punches I've ever seen in bar-fights have been the jabs and pokes.  They are effective because the other guy is usually too drunk to avoid or block a quick jab.  They're expecting haymaker punches.  Throw a nice, quick jab to the nose and you'll end up the winner nine times out of ten.


5.  Keep your temper - The only way to fight effectively is if you keep your emotions in check.  Sure, you're nervous, your angry and your probably drunk, which means you're probably not thinking too clearly (otherwise you wouldn't be fighting).  But if you can manage to keep you anger in check and your senses only slightly dull, you'll be able to avoid any punches they throw and you'll be able to control your punches much better, giving you a huge advantage.


6.  Finally, beat a hasty retreat - Don't unpack your adjectives, don't stick around acting as if everything's cool, don't stick around to taunt or be taunted.  If you win, leave and find another bar, preferably more than a few blocks away.  Police will show up at some point, and when they do, they will begin arresting the fight participants first and asking questions later.  If you're not there, police will get a description of you, and they'll look for you in nearby bars.  The best thing to do at that point is probably to just go home.  But if you insist on staying out for one more drink, then make sure it's far away from the bar where you were fighting.  This is also why you should always pay for drinks in cash.  No paper trail and you don't have to stick around afterwards to pay for you tab.  If you lose the fight, just go home and lick your wounds.

Let me say this; fighting sucks.  Bar-fights in particular, suck.  Even if you win, the next morning you'll just be embarrassed and you'll probably be nursing a few wounds regardless.  Worst case scenario, you end up in jail for a night, which also really, REALLY sucks.  Sometimes, though, bar-fights just can't be avoided.  In these instances, try to keep your head and, well, try to enjoy it.  As crazy as that sounds, as awful as bar-fights can be, they're also a bit of a rite of passage for the average bachelor. 

In the meantime, just try to stick to my motto, which I gratuitously stole from Michael Jackson.  Be a lover, not a fighter.