10 men you’ve dated and dropped

There are many more categories but one or two of these should ring a bell.

There are many more categories but one or two of these should ring a bell.

Published Sep 26, 2013

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Once you’ve dropped a guy, you wonder what you ever saw in him. The men here are on our “dated and dropped” list. There are many more categories but one or two of these should ring a bell. If so, you know what to do!

 

MR STRUGGLE CREDS

Name any political VIP with Struggle creds and he’ll claim to have them on speed dial. He talks the Struggle cred talk and regales you with tales about what it was like training with Umkhonto in Russia and how he is now working behind the scenes to resolve the power struggles at Cosatu and support the workers at Marikana. Funny thing is he’s far more interested in talking luxury cars and tenders than justice for all and widows. And when you ask him to speak some Russian all he can say is “na ndorovie” while knocking back vodka shots at the Saxon Hotel, which he claims is a place of revolutionaries because Madiba stayed there.

 

MR FACEBOOK FLIRT

You’ve been dating him on Facebook for a couple of months and he tells you how he’s dying to meet you, and that he is almost divorced and out of his sexually unfulfilling, terrible marriage. He makes it clear that you really do it for him sexually and his online appetite is voracious. It’s 500 shades of grey and all you need to do is wear a leather coat with nothing underneath. After a few months he tells you that his marriage is over and that you should meet. You’re curious to see if he matches up to his Facebook photo and agree on the time and place. Togged up in your leather coat, you receive an 11th hour message from him in which he says his wife begged him to give their marriage another chance, and he agreed for the sake of their children.

 

MR DISAPPEARING ACT

“Where has he disappeared to this time?” your friends ask when the man you’re seeing is hardly ever around. You hear yourself repeating what he tells you: he’s doing offshore business in the Cayman Islands or a diamond deal in the DRC. Your friends keep raising their eyebrows but he keeps telling you he’s mad about you and that he knows he has a hectic schedule but he hopes you’ll put up with him because you’re so good together. The truth is South Africa is too small for him and it is only a matter of time before he’s spotted somewhere where he’s not supposed to be. He denies all this of course but when you loan him your car because his is in the garage, your tracking GPS reveals all.

 

MR NOT-SO-WELL-DISGUISED SEXIST

He’s learnt that in business you refer to your female colleagues as women, not chicks, and he tells you he’s not a sexist and supports women’s lib. You point out the more modern term is feminism. “That’s what I mean,” he says, but he has no clue what it means. He’ll be watching South African Idols and when a woman strips down to her bikini for Gareth Cliff he blurts: “How’s that fat chick! She needs to hold back on the KFC!” You look at him aghast. In that instant you see him for what he is: a sexist slob who thinks he looks buff when he takes off his shirt and parades his fat rolls. But that’s okay because he’s not a chick!

 

MR LONG POCKETS

Traditional men feel the need or feel socially pressurised to pay the dinner bill. Mr Long Pockets is a traditional man. He opens your car door, making a point of saying he still feels these traditions are important because he likes to treat his woman like a lady. You sit down to a tasty meal, he encourages you to eat whatever your heart desires as he orders Champagne. When the bill arrives he swiftly hands over his credit card. After repeated swipes the waiter says: “It doesn’t seem to be working.” Mr Long Pockets frowns long and hard and acts annoyed. You readily produce yours. He vows to refund you but, being a lady, you say: “Not to worry,” silently cursing that Champagne.

 

MR MAMA’S BOY

He can’t get over the fact that McCain Stir Fry exists and you have no desire to be a chop-chop kind of a woman like his mama. When he keeps comparing you to his mama you realise that Freud is alive and well and that your man is missing his mama’s breast. His mama doesn’t want to release him either and expects you to have dinner at her house every Friday night when you want to be out there having fun. He spends the meal complimenting his mama and telling her she must teach you how to cook. He well knows that you have no interest in cooking. She looks at him lovingly and tells you that she knows she spoiled him, that he doesn’t even know how to boil an egg.

 

MR FOREVER COMMUNE

He’s way past the age of sharing a house with his friends but he claims it’s the new trend in sustainable living. When you first saw his home you called it a “commune” and he gave you a long lecture about how it’s not a commune but an “intentional community”. He explains that communes, free love, psychedelic drugs and flower children are so 1960s, whereas intentional communities are run by 21st century professionals with a strong sense of business and social commitment. Funny they still argue about who drank all the milk and left dirty dishes in the sink. You enjoy visiting him here because it’s certainly very social, but it’s only a matter of time before you discover he’s also into open relationships. “Aren’t you?” he asks as if everyone is, then reassures you that you are free to see whomsoever you choose.

 

MR SEX GOD

Five years ago you would have crossed continents for him but he was so into himself that the only reason he went out of his way to satisfy you sexually was to reinforce his own image of himself as a Sex God. When you tried to get close to him emotionally he accused you of being needy. But that was then and this is now and he’s looking far too tired and world weary to fit the portrait of a Sex God, while you are looking and feeling amazing. When you turn down his offer to meet for drinks he can’t believe it. He says: “I really want to talk to you.” Now who’s needy!

 

MR PARANOID

He’s forever looking around in a nervous state, like some Eastern European assassin out of Carte Blanche is out to get him. “You can’t be too careful these days,” he says as he peeps through his curtains in the middle of the day. “Anyone there?” you ask. “Keeping an eye on that gardener,” he says. “Never forget the domestic staff were the eyes and ears of the Mau Mau.” After a weekend of sneaking around you need to go home and get some rest. When you start getting your things together he immediately looks suspicious and accuses you of having an affair. It all starts making sense when you find small sachets of white powder behind his computer. He denies all knowledge of this and says: “Didn’t I tell you they’re out to get me?”

 

MR BOOZE HOUND

The first couple of dates are such fun. You both get completely slaughtered in the “getting to know you” phase. In your mind you’ll both settle down to a more sober lifestyle once the relationship is on its way. In his mind you’re his kind of party gal who enjoys a toot as much as he does. A few weeks into the relationship you’re seeing each other every other day, but no matter the occasion, his mantra is “Let’s have a drink”. When you broach the subject that you don’t like to drink so much, he says: “Don’t tell me you’re getting boring” as he cracks open his ninth for the night. - The Star

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