Sign #1: High H.B.A. factor. Rookie observers, remember the H.B.A. acronym (which stands for “Health, Beauty & Accessories”). As in, obsessed with H.B.A. Scan the latest trendy store, restaurant or bar and you’ll spot high-maintenance women easily in their natural habitat. Ground zero for the high-maintenance species are beauty salons, malls and occasionally, the health club. (Yes, female gym rats can be high maintenance, although scientists say it’s a rare occurrence.) Is she dressed to the nines at the grocery store? Is she sporting full-tilt makeup and big hair at the health club when other women are in sweats and no makeup? Look closer and you’ll find what constitutes high-maintenance is as varied as her patchwork quilt or designer bag, her intricately painted toenails or her voracious appetite for beauty treatments.
Well, gosh...guess I better quit painting my toenails and putting on makeup before I go out...I don't want some asshat scamming on me to think I'm high-maintenance. I'll just bet that I can't live up the high standards of a guy who picks up women at the grocery store or has rules about what women should and shouldn't wear out of their house to the gym. My favorite part about Sign #1 is the ambiguity...She spends too much time on herself? She's high-maintenance...She doesn't take care of herself? She's a slob. No woman will ever meet my exact standards, because I am Typical American Male, a god among men. Yeah Right.
I mean, what kind of woman takes time out of her busy schedule to go to the spa for beauty treatments? A selfish bitch that oughtta be home making her man a pot pie, that's who!
Sign #2: Emotional insecurity. High maintenance women can be as insecure as a lost toddler. They can freak out if you even so much as give an extended glance at another woman, among other indicators of emotional neediness. Her neediness often requires her to control and direct your behavior.
No, seriously, stare at other women as much as you want, even if it is right in front of me...it totally doesn't make me feel like an insignificant piece of crap. I would hate to stifle your freedom just to feed into controlling and high-maintenance values like love, respect, and dignity.
Sign #3: Controlling. Is she always instructing you to call her or sets rules around things? (Example: “Call me at work tomorrow at 2 p.m.”) Worse yet, she might express anger or manipulate you to get you to do what she wants. A range of ploys such as her demands to call frequently, fix-it items, and transportation needs (“Can you pick me up?”) are all ways to keep you on a short leash or otherwise attempt to control your behavior.
Please do not come pick me up, no matter how dire the situation. I will hitchhike home in the dark with a stranger with prison tattoos and one glass eye all in the name of not demanding any of your precious, non-controlled-by-me time.
Don't you want to meet the nice guy that gave me a ride home? His name is Ted, Ted Bundy, he drives a real neat VW Bug...although, there wasn't a handle on the inside of the passenger door, I had a real hard time getting out....weird, huh?
Sign #4: Communications. Guys, if she talks like this, run: “Like, oh my God, I was on the way to the mall and…” (At your own risk, remind her that “Valleyspeak” went out in the 1990s with Frank Zappa.) Pay attention to what she talks about for it’s the critical indicator of what might – or might not be – going on in her brain. Is it all about her, shopping and her friends? Chances are you have a high-maintenance girl on your hands. I say “girl” because rarely are mature women really that high maintenance. If they are, they may be limited to the divorcée set, who brandish fake dark tans, fake body parts, overprocessed hair and enough bling-bling to make you squint.
Well, I'm a divorcee and I say "like" quite a bit, but I didn't realize that automatically relegated me to the high-maintenance category. If I had the money I would DEFINITELY be wearing as much shiny stuff as I could get on my body and still walk upright, but hey, I guess when you're a man trying to figure out if a woman...er...excuse me, girl, is high-maintenance, the snap judgment is your best friend.
As for the rest of it, I won't even get into whether or not I think the author of this story has EVER said to himself, "Hey self, let's pass up this high-maintenance woman with the fake tan and the fake boobs and head over there, to that girl with the pale skin and average body...yeah, that's right, the one reading a book and forming complete sentences."
The Picnic Test: If you have doubts about her high-maintenance level, put it to the test. See how she handles an impromptu picnic. Suggest casual food from the deli, a cookout, or wine, bread and cheese. Then, gauge her reactions carefully. Dirk, a Minneapolis marketing manager, didn’t discover he was dating a high-maintenance woman until it was too late. When he was in his early thirties, he dated twentysomething Jodi for a couple of years. “On our way to a picnic, we had to stop so she could buy a new outfit, out of my pocket of course, because the one she took an hour to pick out on her own wasn’t good enough for the picnic.”
That was the first “picnic incident.” The second one was even sadder. The couple had spontaneously decided to go on a picnic, so they stopped by a deli at a grocery store near a nice lake area. “When the clerk weighed each of our salads, hers weighed more. She stormed out saying that I made her look like a pig because I wasn’t eating as much as she was. Kinda nuts,huh?”
These women aren't high maintenance, they're psychotic ungrateful shrews. A picnic? Are you frigging kidding me...I was married and got ball bearings for my rollerblades for my birthday...still in the Target bag with a price sticker on it...I would have KILLED for a picnic. Any picnic, even in the backyard with Boone's Farm wine and cheese sandwiches from 7-11. No joke. But, I'm just a high-maintenance divorcee with communication and control issues...so don't listen to me. Oh my god, I have to quit reading this crap.
On a completely different note...I will be gone until Wednesday afternoon, so the JB boy might be a little late. However, I am willing to make up for it with a special Friday Just Because: I Went To The Coast And Left You All Without A Timely Bit Of Manflesh boy, I'm taking suggestions.
