Male P.M.S.

I will undoubtedly receive thousands of letters from my male counterparts for exposing this scarcely communicated fact, but, so be it. I have grown accustomed to controversy over the years.

Little known fact: Men endure symptoms of P.M.S.
Now, obviously our symptoms are not the same as a woman's and if you are at all familiar with my writings, you know that I am big on acronyms. The classic male disorder can be defined as follows:

P.power M.money S.sex

Unlike women who generally loathe their "time of the month", most men wholeheartedly embrace ours. The testosterone driven desire for power, money and sex has caused many men to veer off the narrow path of sane and rational behavior.

Truth: A house divided CANNOT stand...so know what you're working with.

Our insatiable quest for these three trinkets cause us to be most volatile in our personal relationships. On the one hand we want the monogamous relationship but, on the other, we strongly desire the status that these three kings will bring us, so we are forced to choose. Often times than not, men will choose the latter  because the former can always be attained afterward. Most women I know are attracted to the man in possession of these three kings when they first meet him. but the piece most overlooked is that his definition of success came in three. Power, Money AND Sex. The first two kings do not present an obstacle because they, too, may benefit by association, but they vehemently fight to dethrone the third mighty king by thinking that, somehow, their sex alone should be enough to satiate his thirst. That's the first mistake. The successful man knows that he has plenty options and is very accustomed to exercising them at leisure.

Hard Truth: Remember the Golden Rule...
This is not an equal opportunity situation. He is golden so you don't rule. If you did not contribute to the accumulation, do not try to influence the distribution. I know you are all that and he should feel "lucky" to have you, but in his particular area of operation, you are one of many. I will bring this to a close by simply stating that high hopes equal high consequences and male P.M.S. is a reality. Honestly assess the object of your desire and determine if he is either in possession of or in route to these "three kings" and govern yourself accordingly.

Harmed and Extremely Dangerous

It was somewhere around 2:45 a.m. when my cell phone rang. I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to swim a few laps to work off some tension.
"Hello, Vincent. I was expecting to get your answering machine."
It was Robin, (not her real name) she was the fiance of a very popular NBA superstar.  I have entertained Robin on many occasions but our friendship was strictly platonic. Women of rich and powerful men are my best clients because they usually have a lot of free time on their hands.
"What are you still doing up, is everything okay?" she continued.
"I'm fine Robin. What may I do for you?"
The world knew all about her fiances admitted sexual indiscretions. I admired how she loyally stood by his side during these public displays of personal humiliation. Forgiving as she was, everyone had a breaking point. Apparently she had reached hers.
"Vincent, I can't take it anymore. All the groupies, the constant affairs...I thought he loved me!"
"What makes you think otherwise?" I asked while slipping on my bathrobe and walking towards the house.
"Because if he loved me he wouldn't take me for granted! No matter how much I give he always expects more."
My radar went off...
"How is his relationship with his mother?" I inquired.
"Its great. Their relationship is one of the main reasons I started dating him in the first place."
BINGO, she had been looking in the wrong place! I sat down as I allowed my mind to formulate an answer. Less than a minute had passed before I began to speak.
"Robin, you have made the same fatal  mistake millions of women make every day by focusing on how well a man treats his mother. The focal point should be how his mother treat him.
"That seems backward, why would I want to focus on that? she retorted.
"I've always heard that a man who respects his mother will respect his woman."
"And how has that been working out for you?" I asked.
I would have assumed she hung up the phone if not for the faint, steady breaths I heard on the other end of the receiver. I cleared my throat and proceeded to expand my paradigm.
"Many men have been "harmed" by their mothers during childhood. They were not literally abused they, rather, were emotionally handicapped. Their matriarch offered an unrealistic model that carried over into adulthood. Harmful men were once spoiled boys. They were coddled and fussed over and  bad behavior, no matter how deviant, was largely overlooked. These men anger easily and often use silly mind games to control and manipulate. These men work their own agenda and expect their woman to never question, but to silently accept their foolishness. After all, they have employed these same tactics, with much success, on their own mothers. These men are harmed and extremely dangerous to your emotional health.
"Wow, he is just like that!" she exclaimed.
"And I bet you've heard him say, "Who are you talking to, my own mama don't talk to me like that!"
"All the time." she confirmed.
"That was your first signal  to immediately assess the situation and quickly realize that you were entertaining a monster. It was then that everything he owned should have been placed in the box to the left. This fellow never learned to construct relationships, he only knows how to manufacture situations and unfortunately many ladies do not know the difference between the two."
"Well, now that I do, you have given me a lot to think about...Thanks for being there...again"
"No, problem. And Robin?"
"Yes, Vincent?"
" Add a extra $5000 dollars to my fee for calling after hours."
"Are you serious? she laughed, I guess it was worth it."
"I'm always worth it." I whispered into the receiver before hanging up the phone.

She never learned to speak Pig Latin

Out of the blue a former client rang my phone. It had been several months since we had last spoken and, contrary to the rules that govern our profession, I had a certain fondness for her. It was nice to hear her voice.
"Hello." I casually spoke into the receiver.
"Vincent, I've met this wonderful man!" she exclaimed.
"Well, hello to you too... "
"I'm sorry, please forgive my manners. I'm just so excited!"
"Apparently."
"I'll get straight to the point. His name is Jeremy and I want you to meet him."
Now, I have entertained my share of strange requests over the years, but meeting a former client's new lover was usually where I drew a line in the sand. Talk about "conflict of interest".
"I don't think that's a good idea..." I protested.
"Pleeease! She pleaded.
"You are such a good judge of character and I want your honest opinion.
"I really do not think..."
"PLEEEEEASE!
Sigh. Who could resist that?
"Okay." I agreed.
Jealousy is a beast seldom conquered, rarely tamed.  She wanted to bring him to the abode but I strongly objected. Not too many people know the whereabouts of the Bat Cave and I prefer it that way. We decided to meet at her place instead. I pulled my "Bach" next to her Bentley and rang the doorbell. Jeremy arrived fifteen minutes later to find Christina and I enjoying cheese and wine on the first floor patio. Her face literally lit up when she saw him. He was tall, handsome and fit. I could see why Christina would be attracted to him. I stood and smiled as he approached the table.
"Oh, darling I'm so glad to see you! This is my friend, Mytou. I've told him all about you."
"Good things I hope." he said as he extended his hand to me. He had a strong handshake. Maybe a little too strong...
"Dear, do you mind if I talk to you for a second in private?" he said as he took Christine's hand in his and pulled her close.
"It will only take a second."
Indeed. A second was all it took for me to see past that charming smile and notice that glint in his eye. Immediately a phrase popped into my mind.  I looked directly at Christina.
"Angerday,etgay outay." I said.
"Pardon me?" she smiled as she nuzzled into Jeremy's chest.
"I didn't know that you were bi-lingual. What did you just say, Vincent?"
"Angerday, etgay utoay". I repeated.
"In English,silly."
"Sweetheart, I'm sure Mr. Love has other things he could be doing besides teaching you a foreign language." interrupted Jeremy.
"Besides, I still need to speak with you in private."
 Christina asked if I would mind waiting a few minutes while she and her "prince" stepped inside for a moment. I declined citing another appointment I had coming up within the hour. I shook Jeremy's hand and told him it was a pleasure meeting him. (I lied) and I briefly hugged Christina. While she was in my arms I softly repeated the phrase again.
"Angerday, eygay outay."
I still remember the confused look she had in her eyes. I fondled with my keys as I sat in the Jag. Maybe I should go back and interpret. Better still, maybe I should mind my own business.
I put on my shades, turned on the radio and drove away. 

The Hidden Mistress

She's out there, lurking in the shadows, masterfully avoiding detection. Invisible to the eyes of most women, she patiently waits. Like the mythological Siren, she lures husbands and boyfriends away from the sanctity of their homes with her sweet, enchanted song. "Come to me, she boasts, "The juice is much more plentiful on my vine and the nectar twice as sweet!"

"Didn't you hear me talking to you, where is your mind?"

He is suddenly jolted back to reality by "The Nag."

"You never listen to me when I'm talking to you. I swear you act just like a baby! One of these days, I'm gonna...

Her voice fades away as his own thoughts increase...

"She's been at me all day...why am I still here? Nothing I do is ever good enough to please this woman!"

"I don't have to put up with this!" he yelled.

Plop.

The words fell from his lips like a drop of blood into the ocean. She identifies her prey. In all her years, she has never changed her lure. She is remarkably patient, and she never pursues. Instead, her victims willingly lay their lives at her enticing feet. She begins her process.

Step One: She befriends him. She offers no resistance, only a listening ear. He can't speak to his partner because all she does is critique and fault find. Besides, everybody needs a "friend."

Step Two: She compliments him OFTEN. She tells him how lucky his woman is at home for scoring such a catch. If he were her man, she would definitely know how to treat him. The sweet smell of her perfume lingers in his mind...Some women just don't realize what they have...

Step Three: She complains about how lonely she is. At this point, she becomes the exact opposite of what he has at home. She mentions how she would give her man plenty of space if she had one, and subtle hints at how good and freaky she is in bed almost certainly helps her victim rise to the challenge...

Step four: ( THIS IS THE MOST LETHAL STEP OF HER PROCESS) She offers an innocent invitation to dinner at her place one evening. She promises it will be their little secret... THEN SHE WAITS for her phone to ring.

It's not long after this invite that her adversary (the lady of the house) realizes her destruction. He doesn't pay her any attention, and her rants fall on deaf ears and a hard heart. Things quickly unravel between them as he packs his bags and leaves. Her relationship has been demolished. Completely dissolved by the beck and call and temptation of this woman called... The "Streets."

You are too old for a boyfriend.

If you are age thirty or above, then wake up. Either he's your MAN or he is not! What is a "boy" friend? Isn't that a term used to identify a childhood or adolescent playmate? No wonder you are frustrated. BOYfriends don't pay bills. They don't cook you dinner or buy you gifts. They are not required to celebrate holidays or remember special dates such as birthdays or anniversaries. No, their primary role is to PLAY. That is what boys do, they play. What you want is a leader. Someone who is responsible and accountable. You want a person of the male gender who is able to effectively reciprocate action and emotion. You want a MAN. If you can relate to anything I just said, then I suggest you go home tonight and either kiss your man or spank your baby.

Don't Get too Comfortable

It amazes me how easy it is to manipulate a situation once you understand a few basic principles.
Principle: Do Not Get Too Comfortable With Your Partner.
The Ming Dynasty vases, her collection of Rembrandt and Picasso paintings and the shiny new Rolls Royce parked outside immediately told me that the woman had exquisite taste. Her husband was an international banker and had provided her with all the finer things in life. Even so, I was a consistent fixture in her inner circle. It was easy for my trained eye to notice why; the man was sloppy.
He was ignorant to the rules.
Rule: Acquiring is easier than maintaining.
No doubt her husband had pulled all the stops in his initial pursuit, but once he acquired her affection he dropped his guard. He started taking things for granted. Rich or not, she didn't like finding raggedy underwear laying in the middle of the floor or smelling his rancid behind because he didn't feel like showering or brushing his teeth before coming to bed. These are just a few signs that he had gotten too comfortable. Now I'm helping her spend his money.
Things To Avoid: Just a few simple actions would have kept me from his treasure...
* Do not allow the person in the bathroom when you are using it.
* Make sure you keep sexy underwear on hand and do not walk around naked.
* A nice fragrance, especially ones with pheromones, is a must.
* Give sincere compliments on a regular basis.
* Tell them how important they are to you and do it often.
Applying these five suggestions will go a long way towards maintaining the magic of your relationship. It's a shame this international banker didn't get the memo.
Point To Ponder: Take care of home or someone like me will.

W.I.F.M

The sound of classic R&B greeted me as I opened the front door. I love Old School. It's nice to finally be home. "This is such an impractical color." I thought to myself as I slipped off my Italian loafers and into the plush Bally slippers I kept in the foyer. This routine was a royal pain, but I didn't want to risk staining the carpet. Alpaca is expensive enough, but white Alpaca is practically priceless. I moved through the formal sitting area past the dining room and into the kitchen, removing clothing along the way. I poured a glass of wine, made a bowl of fresh fruit and cashews, and retreated to my favorite recliner in the den. The last few hours had been rather hectic as I ducked and dodged the paparazzi in their futile attempts to photograph me. As these "Confessions of a Gigolo" posts grow in popularity, the risk of my discovery increases. As I sat in my chair, I began to evaluate myself. Why do I do what I do? The initial response would be the insane amount of money I collect for my services, but that's only the surface. Am I really that shallow?

Four letters came to mind as I probed deeper for the root cause. WIFM. Most of us tune into these call letters, some more than others, but we are all guilty of listening every now and again. WIFM checks our motives...it measures our character. Often times it displays our selfishness. Could this particular frequency be a major cause of relationship dysfunction? Whenever a person tries to manipulate or control the actions of others, they are tuning into this station. If you have ever said, "This is me, like it or not." or "It's my way or the highway, " you are a frequent listener and are probably single while reading this post. Suddenly my phone rang. It was Jennifer.

"I'm sorry about earlier, she said. "But ever since I got my divorce from ****, the media has been all over me."

"No problem, it comes with the territory," I answered.

"Are you sleepy? I will pay you three thousand dollars to come see me." she teased.

"How about I charge you ten thousand to come over here?" I countered.

"It's a deal! I'm getting in the car right now, see you in a few."

WIFM (What's In it For Me?) The money... I guess I am that shallow. 

The 3i Principle for Healthy Relationships

I apologize for my brief hiatus, I just needed a vacation. As I lay in my hammock swinging back and forth enjoying the cool Caribbean breeze, I relished the thought of traveling abroad unencumbered by the strains of a nagging companion. I was in the moment, unknown to the world and enjoying every second of it.
"Vincent! Omg! what are you doing here?"
"Damn..."
I knew that voice. I disguised my irritation as I raised to my elbows and squinted against the sun.
"Just trying to relax." I said. It's been a while. How is your son?"
"Growing like a weed. He's almost two."
"Wow. And the S.O. (significant other)?"
"He's cool." she said while drawing a figure eight in the sand with her toes.
Being the astute professional I am, I immediately picked up on her unspoken dismay.
"Talk." I said.
She continued her drawing as if she hadn't heard me.
It was obvious she was having a moment, but time was money and I was off the clock so...
"Lindsay, It was nice seeing you again, but I..."
"He's a jerk! she finally said. Her anger was undeniable.
"From the very beginning he pushed himself on me!"
Sigh, I was stuck. The only thing I could do was play this thing out.
"Excuse me." I said to the attendant as she passed in front of me.
"I will  have two Saratogas, one with a slice of cucumber."
"Certainly, Mr. Love."
As we waited for our spring water, Lindsay ranted on about how helpless and distant she felt towards her mate. It instantly dawned on me that she was totally unaware if the 3i principle.
"The three principles? she innocently asked. "Who are they?"
I smiled as I began my explanation...

The 3i principle:
Imagine your partner going to the park looking to play ball."
"Okaaaay..." she said looking somewhat puzzled.
"He has all of his equipment and is eager to play." I continued.
"You noticed him approaching the fence(when you first met him), but as far as you were concerned, he was an "intruder" so you ignored him."
"Ignored? Hell, no! I would have called the police!" she blurted.
"Lindsay..."
"I'm sorry, Vincent. Go on."
"Thank you... Now, instead of leaving he stays, eventually making his way from behind the fence and onto the field. You "included" him in the game when you accepted his first date. You didn't readily appoint him Captain, but you did like the way he played the game. After a few victories, you completely turned over the play book and allowed him to meet your son. Your lives had become "infused" with one another's and he was elected a permanent member of the team. If it did not flow in that order, then it was out of order". I concluded.
"That doesn't sound anything like what happened over here!" she lamented.
Our conversation was interrupted by the soft chirp of her cell phone. It was her sitter announcing an issue with her child. Apparently he'd confused the  bar of hotel soap with a piece of candy.
"That boy will eat anything! she said over her shoulder as she hurried along the sand. "Maybe I will see you later this evening!"
I pulled my shades over my eyes and leaned back into my hammock.
"Not if I see you first." I thought.

Loving on Credit. What's your score?

I sat on the passenger seat of a brand new apple red Ferrari, visibly on edge as we peeled out of the parking lot of Prestige Imports and onto Biscayne Blvd. Ariana was one of my younger clients. She was making her mark as an up-and-coming software designer, and although she was not as wealthy as my other patrons, she was well on her way.

"I'm so glad I was approved for that auto loan, she exclaimed. "I can't wait to show this baby to my friends!"

My attention drifted inward as my mind formulated an interesting analogy... Loving on credit.

Fact: Most relationships operate...on a subconscious credit system.

There is a sense of ownership that accompany status symbols. Automobiles, homes, expensive jewelry...all add to the importance of accomplishment and the feeling that one has undoubtedly arrived. You finally have it all! That's the illusion of good credit...

"Did you even hear a word I said?" snapped Ariana."It's like I'm over here talking to myself."

In my profession, an occasional fib is acceptable.

So I lied...

"I heard every word you said, sweetheart. Continue."

(Now, where were we? Oh yeah.)

Let's go deeper.

When you emotionally fall for a person, you "buy" that relationship on credit. You get to test drive it, take it home, and use it any way you like. Being free to handle the merchandise in such a manner creates a false sense of security. You begin to believe that you actually own these items, but in reality, you do not; the BANK does. You are simply a borrower, and they will never belong to you until you pay the total price of ownership; they only appear to be yours. This can be proven by neglecting a few payments. See how long it takes before the valid owner comes to repossess their property. So it is with love. No matter how excited you are about that new relationship, in the beginning, that person will never belong to you until you eventually pay the total price over time. Miss a few payments by consistently mistreating them and seeing how long they stick around. It takes time to develop great credit (or a great relationship), and it takes time to maintain or destroy it.

'It's so responsive. I can let go of the wheel, and it would drive itself!" 

I tightly closed my eyes.

Beware of impulse buying.

This type of spending usually leaves us holding a bag of regret. We saw something that we thought we wanted and made a quick, emotional decision without thoroughly weighing our options. Now you're stuck. Often, the first deal is not the best, and hasty decisions leave us paying for some undesired thing. (usually for eighteen years and longer), with the precious years of our life. These headaches could have been avoided if we had only taken a Kit Kat moment. Window shop (date) and come back tomorrow. It's wise to slow down to be sure because time wasted is time lost.

"This thing can fly! We're almost at the beach, Vincent."

"I see, and it was a lot more comfortable than riding your broomstick."

"I bet you wish I were riding your broomstick. Let's see you use that smart mouth later on tonight."

Final thought... Be honest with yourself.

Do a self-evaluation. You know your drama better than anyone else does. Would you really date yourself? If not, change. You must first become the type of person you are hoping to attract. I hate to be blunt, but if you are perpetually attracting losers, the apple isn't falling too far from the tree.

I smiled as we skidded to a stop. Not that I was fazed by the faces of the gawkers as we raised the doors and stepped from the belly of the high-performance beast, I was smiling because I was still in one piece. I smoothed the wrinkles in my white linen shirt as I walked around, grabbed Ariana by her waist, and looked her dead in her soft green eyes.

'Why wait until later when I can put my smart mouth to use right now?"

How to Survive a break-up.

It’s difficult to imagine Batman without Robin, Sherlock without Holmes, and Scooby without Doo…  Yet the loss of your significant other may have left you feeling like a superhero with no sidekick. After all, a break up is something that was reserved for “other people” until it knocked on your front door. At some point in time, we all have experienced the emotional pain, disappointment and sense of loss caused by a break up. And if you haven’t, keep on living; you’ll get your chance! It’s inevitable. As long as you choose to romantically engage another human being you will eventually be told (or end up telling} someone to kick rocks. At first, you may feel you can’t survive without the familiar support and comfort of your ex lover, but you can! Reaching the fork in the road doesn’t have to leave you stranded on the “highway of love “. Following these two suggestions will work wonders in helping you get back on your feet in no time.

Step one: CRY.  In a situation like this, it’s okay to be a big baby. Tears cleanse the soul. The tendency to internalize your frustration only lengthens the recovery process. It happened. He or she is gone and it HURTS! Take as much time as you need to embrace this reality. Moving forward too quickly could cause you to carry excessive baggage into your next relationship. It’s never a good idea to make someone pay for another person’s mistakes. It may seem callow, but it works. So, forgive yourself.  Have “one last cry” and leave it there.

Step Two: Rediscover your identity. It’s easy to lose yourself in a relationship. Often times we were so preoccupied with the other person that we lost sight on our own uniqueness. If we will be honest, most of us could admit to initially adding or subtracting significant portions of our personality to appease the object of our affection. Now that we are single, we may find ourselves in a stupor.  We often can’t think past the other person as to what it took to make us happy. When we were in a relationship we were happily engaged in the task of “molding” our partner into the shape we wanted them to be in. It never really dawned on us that, in the process, we were being molded, by them, as well. Reconnect with your individuality; get back to being you.