Getting ready for a night out can be different for each girl. Some spend all week preparing for that perfect outfit. The shoes will match the bag, the bag will match the nails and the nails will match the lips, …but if you’re anything like the undesirable me, you’ll brush through the knots in your weave, slap on your ever so flattering wall paint, dig out the push up bra, moisturise your dry bits and hope the ticks on your Nike treads match the colour of your badly applied contour. The question is…what is it all for? Do we really expect to find that dashing Jude Law lookalike who smiles at us from across the bar in hope of a slow-motion dance and kiss? Because my friends, if experience has taught me anything, it is that scenes like this only occur in soap operas and American movies! It’s a false representation of ‘love at first sight’ – which we all now know to be utter bollocks that more often than not leaves us miserable and disappointed every time. Unless of course you’re just after one raunchy night of passionate sex, in which case… keep doing what you do! 😉
There’s a beautiful mixture of the male species you’re sure to find on every night out. Here, I shall attempt to name and explain each and every type of boy ‘cough cough’ I mean MAN you can expect to unfortunately bump into on a Saturday night out on the tiles. So here we go…
Man type number 1: The shy and obscure dude that sits nervously at the end of the bar playing ‘Mr bashful’ but keeps eyeing you up every chance he gets. He’s usually the type of guy that will big up his player skills to the boys but when it really comes down to chatting up birds, he has no idea where to start. He calls every bar shit, refers to them being sausage fests and claims every attractive woman is not his type. It’s of course a defence mechanism used to mask insecurity and low self-esteem.
Man type number 2: The boisterous and over-confident ‘mans man’ that shouts “sexy” from afar. He has zero problem bouncing over to you and your girlfriends, interrupting conversation and talking to your tits. The type that most of us have been attracted to and dated at some point due to inflated self-assurance and assertiveness, but deeply regret, due to man-child behaviour and inappropriate bum grabs. Biff from Back to the future is my perfect example of type number 2.
Man type number 3: The persistent and persuasive leader of his pack, who tends to slyly swift over to your personal space, phone-in-hand expecting digits. He knows exactly what he wants and he’s certainly not afraid to go get, which can be a charming trait that makes us girls weak at the knees…until we realise we are beautiful girl no.12 on his never-ending list of drunken bitches and potential one-night bones.
Man type number 4: The Z-list celebrity that believes he’s a star, doesn’t need to wait in queues and thinks his reality stint on ‘Take me Out’ gets him a free pass into every girls’ vagina. Can usually be seen sporting the ripped jeans and bicep-hugging combo, along with a shiny shoe without a sock. Thinks he’s a cool cat for saying words like ‘reem and gal dem’ when his reality is spent living at his mam and dads, taking selfies with the family dog and washing pots for free rent.
Man type number 5: “Hello, is it me you’re looking for” …the cheesy grinned lothario that whispers sweet nothings into your ear holes in the sheer hope of romancing himself into your other holes (okay that was pretty crude). His tried & tested approach has conned many naïve beauties into his arms of false promises…but you can’t blame a dude for making the most of good practice 😉 Just note that if he’s reciting Shakespeare and whistling Beethoven, he’s most likely shagged his way through the entire bar of singletons.
Man type number 6: This is the type of man that walks into any room and quite literally stops convo, he’s got this indescribable charm and persona that plows into bars and hits both your attention and erogenous spots. His ‘I don’t give a fuck attitude’ makes you compete for attention, delete your Tinder account, and act like the wifey material you are so far from. Unbelievably dangerous when it comes to lust but his game of ‘chase me’ will soon get boring once his arrogant traits shine through that well-constructed face and rehearsed conversation.
Man type number 7: He’s the ‘grabby, feely’ bastard that pops out of nowhere to slap your arse on your way to the loos. Zero sense of common decency and respect to women and continuously feels the need to grope things he will never experience in later life. Attempts to justify crass behaviour on being drunk, occasionally seen getting drop-kicked by bouncers at the end of the night and is usually the same type of guy that thinks strippers want to sleep with him. Bad nob.
Man type number 8: The insecure motherfucker that instantly fears humiliation & rejection, so spends the night catapulting insults at you in sheer hope that you’ll eventually want what you ‘think’ you can’t have. It’s a very clever tactic used by those afraid of judgment and knock-backs. A schoolyard ploy that’s never gone out of fashion. (But if he pinches you and shouts “girls stink” then he’s mentally troubled and potentially wears adult nappies under his chinos.
Man type number 9: The creeper that spends his entire night watching your every move, appears next to you at the bar, asks you for a ciggie in the smoking area and intentionally dances behind you hoping to get a ‘lil bump n grind’. He believes actions speak louder than words, will never admit to fancying you and would rather choke than ask you out…but no matter how far you roam, you’ll find him lurking in the dark corners of every room staring at your being with his globes of doom. Some would call it stalking, I call it a misunderstanding of the human flirt. Poor buggar!
Man type number 10: He’s with his misses, super indulged in his happy and ‘successful’ relationship …that is until she goes to the bathroom and his wandering eye is left to wonder. The disrespectful cock end that believes what she doesn’t know will never hurt her. Usually the type of guy that states he’s boyfriend material and genuinely believes he’s god’s gift to women…but wouldn’t know how to do life if he was left a single pringle for more than a week.
Man type number 11: He’s got a VIP table and a man-sized bottle of Goose on the go, he sits displaying his expensive watch and observes the room for young, short skirted tail to impress. Utterly deluded and thinks money buys all, including happiness… but he will never leave a tip and waits for 5p change. Also believes offering free flutes of champs will secure him sex, but the reality is a pissed off taxi-ride home wondering how he’s going to pay his next leccy bill.
Man type number 12: He’s got an arm full of tribal tatts, a couple of ears pierced and a low-cut vest top exposing his badly drawn chest piece. He thinks he’s cool and mysterious because he’s ‘different’ and inked, but he’s either a scally who copied the trend or a failed musician turned barber. (no offence to barbers, I actually think they’re awesome) He uses chat-up lines he got from his dad back in the 90’s and never remembers your name. Usually seen at the bar knocking back a Jager bomb or arm wrestling his best mate for a fiver.
Man type number 13: He’s funny, he’s endearing, he’s respectful & kind, he’s honest and open, loves pizza and dogs, he’s creative and passionate with the drive to succeed, he’s outgoing and bubbly with the right amount of confidence, he’s smart and understanding with a positive attitude, he’s non-judgmental, understands that everyone has a past, sarcastic and cheeky but doesn’t play games. He never wears turtle necks, isn’t afraid to drink midweek, can give as good as he gets and kisses you with more passion than Romeo kisses Juliet. You can usually find this type of man hanging around in your dreams, he’s relatively easy to bag once you find him…but be sure to enjoy every moment, as the fucker disappears upon waking.
There you have it girls…my wine-fuelled list of ‘types of men’ you will most probably bump into every Saturday.
I am fully aware that this post makes me seem like some bitter old bint that has lost all hope in men…but the truth is i’m just slightly intoxicated, listening to Simply Reds greatest hits and sick to the back teeth of Call Lane 😊 I hope I haven’t put you off …HA. (I also realise that I’ve missed out quite a few more ‘types’ but I’ve had too much vino to care)
CHEERS to all men xx