On Friday night a friend and I went out on the town. In my city, the nightclubs and bars don't really start humming until 1am, so we waited until nearly midnight to head out.<\/p>\n
Our taxi dropped us off on the Strip, a series of bars along the river, with outdoor seating warmed by gas torches and lit by strands of Christmas lights. We were disappointed to see that despite the warm night, the bars weren't packed.<\/p>\n
We chose the busiest of the bars to start the evening: the Tap Room, the bar of choice for businessmen and professionals. The average age of patrons at the Tap Room was mid-forties. Most were dressed in slacks and button-up shirts, as if they'd just come from work. The women at the Tap Room were wives or girlfriends with expensive jewelry and exquisite accessories. Everyone stood in small groups, drinking wine or glasses of rum and coke, intently focused on their own conversations.<\/p>\n
We felt rather left out at our quiet outdoor table, so we filled the time by people-watching.<\/p>\n
The best part about the Strip is that you can watch the parade of passers by. On the street in front, taxis stopped, letting out pairs of beautiful women. Groups of young men strode past, drunkenly laughing and shoving one another. Couples paused in front of the bars, discussing whether they wanted to stop. It was so much fun to watch this cross-section of the city on parade.<\/p>\n
After some time, I began to notice a curious pattern. The most beautiful women—<\/span>the ones with perfectly straight blond hair, slender bodies, and gorgeous clothes—<\/span>acted as if they were the stars of the show. They tossed their hair back for the benefit of everyone watching them. They leaned over and kissed the taxi driver for the voyeuristic young men. They walked arm in arm with their female friends, presenting a unified front against anyone who might approach them.<\/p>\n My friend who was with me said, "No normal guy would even have a chance with one of those girls. He'd get shot down!"<\/p>\n "But look at that girl," I said. One girl, who looked like a model, was talking to a large, flat-faced man the size of a football player without the benefit of muscles. Even though he was not even close to her in the looks department, she held his arm, whispered in his ear, then touched his chest flirtatiously. "Do you think they're together?" I asked.<\/p>\n My companion mused, "Maybe they're just friends."<\/p>\n As we observed, we noticed that the guy kept glancing at the crowd around them, as did she. Even though she was talking to him, both of them seemed more interested in watching who else was around them … and perhaps who was watching them.<\/p>\n The scene illustrated the fact that beautiful women don't always date handsome men. Instead, women who are aware of the status that their beauty affords them tend to date men who are equally status-conscious. In other words, (please forgive the language) "bitches attract jerks."<\/p>\n It is a strange phenomenon. For some reason, women with aloof, stand-offish attitudes tend to be attracted to men with arrogant, cocky attitudes. Attitude attracts attitude.<\/p>\n