It’s true. It might come as a shock, but trust me on this one. Just as much as chicks start to freak out when they surpass the age of 25 without tying the knot, men, too start to feel their heartstrings tugged on by the finality of perpetuity. Think of it as the male version of the biological clock; we’re just tired of doing all of the fun stuff.
You’re probably thinking, “What the hell does that mean?” It’s an interesting premise altogether. For a woman steadily marching toward her thirties, when she’s considered ‘past her prime’ much like a 30-year-old NFL running back, the noose tightens steadily as all of her friends find men and settle down in remote suburbia. I can tell you from experience that when a woman is in her upper-20s and she’s never been close to tying the knot, warning sirens echo in the prospective male brain like a nuclear reactor meltdown. Why? Well, we’re wondering what’s wrong with you. Are you a Self-Made Diva? Are you too high maintenance? Do you wear deep-seeded emotional scars from failed relationships past? More often than not, the above questions aren’t what make you radioactive. The main problem is that you’re most likely a Stage V Clinger.
For a bachelor is his run before midlife, life is pretty spectacular. Unlimited free time, possibility, booze, chicks, sports, videogames, road trips and financial liberty are simply glorious. Those things that we love are the reason sometimes we decide to go it alone, because when you’re in a relationship a lot of that stuff goes out of the window. And do you know what that stuff is? That stuff my friends, is fun.
But in the end we get tired of that fun. Bars, apartments and occasional moments of shallow emptiness drive us toward the desire to settle down and become 'adults'. However, keep in mind that all of the fun stuff isn't easy to let go of. Women and relationships burn through time like hot knives through butter, and that knive signifies to imminent reduction of unencumbered time. When you've got a Clinger on your hands, brother you can multiply that by 1,000.
Let's use a Slurpee as an analogy. 7-11 stores, the owners and creators, of the Slurpee are pretty rare in these parts. And let's just say you're a huge fan of the Slurpee, and it's been years since you've had the pleasure of tasting one. At first you can do without Slurpees, because there are other things to hold your interest like ICEE and Parrot Ice. ICEE and Parrot Ice are initially outstanding; a new explosion of flavors create a cornucopia of fresh flavor that temporarily makes you wonder why Slurpee was so great in the first place. But over time, you start to ache for a Slurpee. You start to miss Slurpees and regret that you ever dismissed them for the love of ICEE and Parrot Ice. Slurpee becomes the nagging voice in the back of your mind, the bone in your fish-stick if you will. Slurpee kept getting stuck in your throat and setting-off a mean gag-reflex reserved for bachelor parties. And suddenly, just as your powering up your laptop to surf the web for good, free porn, you spy a headline that reads, "7-11 acquires 250 Houston Shell Stations." Bingo, my friends; Slurpee rides again!
After a few days, 7-11s begin popping-up across the land, and you rush into the first one you see. You order the largest Slurpee available and rip into it. Each gulp is delicious and fresh, baptising you in the everlasting love of high fructose corn syrup. But happens when you have too much, too fast? That's right; brain freeze. Too much of anything is never good, and the body revolts in excess. This relates directly to Stage V Clingers; your overbearing instances are a huge, pain-in-the-ass brain freeze.
Stage V Clingers want their new man every second of every day. After work? At her place. Before work? At her place? Staying the night? At her place? Want to watch the game with your buddies? Nope. At her parents' place. There is not one second that is excused from her presence, and do you know what happens if you try to do something without you? She digs her talons in deep, like a bald eagle into the scales of a snake and never lets go. And this is because the Clinger is afraid that if you leave or spend a night without her, you'll find something better and the pendulum of her biological clock will snap right off. This misconception on the part of the Clinger is what potentially drives Slurpee-loving men away. It's the misconception that just because we want time to ourselves, we don't like them anymore.
And to some extent, this is a manufacturer's defect with women as a whole. Men are lone wolves; roving souls at heart looking for excitement at every turn. To women, it's unfathomable that men could possibly enjoy hobbies and other interests that don't involve them. Somehow by enjoying these other things, we are selfish, immature bastards that don't care about who else we hurt. The Clinger takes this to the maximum level cap, and creates an atmosphere of perpetual misery.
Clingers, remember that men all want their Slurpees. ICEEs are okay for awhile, but in the end we want to be slotted where the natural order says we should be placed. However, brain freezes suck. Don't give men a brain freeze, and your biological clock will be serviced in due time.
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