Spiritual fucking is a term I have coined for desperate mortals who know that they have a bleak chance with women. They try to use terms like warm, caring friendship and sharing joys and sorrows to bond with a woman spiritually before they can get into her pants. They think that they will be able to give the woman a holy orgasm and tickle her senses! All they manage to do is tickle her funny bone. They are creeps of the lowest order. And their life value to intelligent and smart women is less than that of a cockroach. They are below mind fuckers!
The mind fuckers come in next. See, the mind fuckers manage to score a couple of points more than the spiritual fuckers. They don't discuss warm bonding but they incessantly try to portray how cool they are. Long drives and pubbing are their favourite hobbies. They look decent and may have even managed to lay a woman or two in their lives. That gives them so much confidence that they feel they can lay a Salma Hayek if allowed a date! They come with their "I am just looking for fun" tag line. And yet, in that one date, they want to talk about themselves - their cool friends, their cool bikes and cars, their love for pets, what turns them on in a woman, blah, blah, blah. Not once asking the woman how she can manage to keep her eyes open! So, at the end of all that mind fucking, 235 and a half yawns and ‘sad food never felt so yummy experience!’, the woman never wants to use the word fuck and him in the same sentence. Unless, the words come together with multiple exclamations and maybe, even the finger!
Then there are the semi cheapos or the one night stoods! The semi cheapos come out at as charming, sweet boys on the first date. They can make decent conversations, entertain women with their half decent half-baked histrionics and may even end up at her place. The sex is decent with some foreplay. The woman's satisfaction level is directly proportional to the number drinks she has downed. So if he has managed to get her drunk, he may get a four out ten in bed. The problem happens the next morning when the woman wakes up with a hangover and that toad next to her. Not surprisingly, she fails to have any decent conversation with him. With monosyllabic cordiality they split over a cup of coffee. He even promises to meet her again. But all he talks to her in the next few days over chat or text is sex. He lives with the hope that she will oblige. The woman realises that she prefers candles to him any day and promptly blocks him off her chat and sms. So that one night stand turns into a one night stood when he turns from Cinderella to a pumpkin.
Then there are the social schizos! They love to socialise, meet interesting people and make their life happening. They are pretty interesting themselves. Well mannered, good conversationalists and funny, they charm the women. The women after meeting the three low-lifes realize that maybe they can finally have a good time, which they do. The first date is a good one, where conversations flow along with the booze. The women feel relaxed and safer. They tend to let their guards down. The social schizo on the other hand also manages to have a good time. He doesn't put the woman to sleep and as a bonus, makes her laugh too. The conversation moves from the bar to the bedroom and eventually, he gets laid. He starts to enjoy the company! He even manages to hug the woman to sleep. But the schizo in him wakes up the next morning when he realises that he is having a good time and wanting some more is inversely proportional to his freedom. Suddenly, he feels claustrophobic and blames his social personality for making him have such a good time. The coffee conversation starts with I had a great time last night, moves to you are a wonderful lady and finally stops at I hope you are not looking for something serious in this. He decides to slap his schizo personality to rest for some time and continues with his acquittal conversation. The woman on the other hand is flabbergasted. She pretends to sit through all this with her I understand what you are saying smile but her eyes keep moving to the nearby kitchen knife. She cannot stab him but she hopes that the delusional talks end soon. All she can think is the great chemistry, which turned to better biology which at that moment was rapidly changing to Braille.
