When I was a child, I wanted to be Lois Lane when I grew up. Now that I have grown up, I actually kind of feel like her. We both write, have somewhat of a social conscious and terrible taste in men. Like Lois, I am forever trying to get a man of steel to give me attention. But he just always has to fly off to save a kitten out of a tree or whatever excuse men, I mean Superman, come up with.
I was never really attracted to superman, however. I mean, I work out at a gym daily and am frequently surrounded by men who look like I could pop them with a pin. It just doesn’t appeal to me. Also, I don’t care who you are, no one is super human enough to pull off lycra.
If I had to choose a fictional character to spend my time with (other than The Johnny or any other man I have spent more than eight minutes with who has turned out to be utterly fake) it would be James Bond.
I can see it now: We would meet at a bar, he would get my number or Blackberry pin and about three weeks later he would finally call.
Yeah, you know the type of guy Bond is.
We would go on a date: I would probably wear black, backless Gucci and silver Sergio Rossi shoes. I would always be conscious, with someone like Jamie (yes, that is what I would call him) to ensure that I showed just enough to keep him interested. Both physically and emotionally. The relationship would be stylish. But it would be real. Intense. Possibly secret.
The only way a relationship with 007 could last more than 007 minutes is if you understood him, moved with him, grew with him. There would be nothing stagnant with Bond. And that is the appeal: Guys like Jamie will never complete someone, they will just compliment them. Shake them, stir them, love them.
Superman, however, would probably throw some steak on a BBQ, gallivant around in his little red speedos and have the ability to open beer bottles with his teeth.
Something about Superman screams “Neanderthal” and “Too much testosterone” to me. Something also screams “Homoerotic” but that is a totally different issue.
I think that the man of steel represents the man’s man: The man would save you from a burning building and then do you against it.
It is possible, I think, to generalise the male species and categorise them as either James Bond or Superman. Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp and Ben Affleck would all be Bond. While someone like Bruce Willis, Vin Diesel or Sylvestor Stallone would be Superman. Or, at least, the victims of steroid addiction.
The question you have to ask yourself is, as a female, is do I want Bond or Superman? Do I want subtle or obvious? Do I want to save or be saved?
I have never been with Superman. I’ve been with some Lex Luther’s, sure, but I have never gravitated towards raw, animalistic men who have the ability to save me. I have never wanted (or needed?) to give myself to someone to help me.
But I have been with James: Living fast, loving fast and essentially being the weakness in his sauve exterior. And let me tell you, it is a gun in his pocket. And he is happy to see you.
Deciding what type of character, or guy, you want to end with can only be decided upon once you know who you are. Are you Lois Lane? Are you Carol Brady? Are you really lost and possibly only able to identify with Big Bird?
No matter who you are, or what prime time character you fit into in this pop culture world, there is someone out there for you. We all live double lives, only letting a select few in on our secrets and He comes in different disguises and will look like something on the surface, but it is what is happening underneath that matters.
After all, we all know that Clark Kent was really the man for Lois.
Post By Salium
