Stop and Search in Ibiza!

A short story about when I was searched in Ibiza on a night out.

What Do Women Want?

I heard this joke and found it quite amusing.

"A woman needs four animals in her life: a mink in the closet, a jaguar in the driveway, a tiger in bed, and a jackass to pay for it all"...funny, but could there be any truth in it? Could women be that shallow?

What do women want? It's the age old question that has been irking men for years. Four simple words. This is probably the most frequently asked question that has never had a definitive answer. What do women want? It has been a topic of discussion of hapless men all over the world since the dawn of man and it recently became the topic of discussion between a few of my friends. I'm sure many smarter men than us have asked this question and failed to achieve an answer (even Sigmund Freud gave up after 30 years of research!) but hey, why not give it a go, lets find out what the average East London lad thinks women want.

I gather a few friends and go straight for it "What do you think women really want? I ask inquisitively, "A sharp groan comes across the table from an obviously dejected and defeated male. "Listen yeah" he begins "women don't even know what they want, so how would we know!" A cackle of laughs akin to a pack of hyenas rapture around the room. 'Naah, have you seen my car, they like nice cars" interjects another. "Ahh...so that's why you got that car?" ponders someone else. After a series of jokes I quickly realised this wasn't getting us anywhere, until someone shouted out, "what about what we want!?"

Worked for him, kinda...

Interesting, I thought. After all, in a successful relationships one of many decisive factors is the ability to  meet each others needs. So I changed my stance...what do we want from women? It actually turned out that our list was pretty short and slightly unrealistic. "They need to make a specifications tab on Tinder" quips one, "I'd search for a good cook that doesn't talk through Match of the Day, then I'd set my location to within 15m" He chuckles. The room erupts with laughter again. As the evening wore on and the alcohol vanished from our glasses, one thing was certain, we still had no idea of what women wanted, but at least we had achieved something, intoxication. We decided to call it a night and left in our blissful ignorance.

Ultimately, although we all have the same core fundamental needs of physiological, safety, love and belonging, esteem and self-actualisation (fulfilling your potential) everyone is different and you cant tarnish everyone with the same brush, all women aren't indecisive and emotionally needy and all men are not self confident and able to put up a shelf.

We've all been there!

In my opinion we all have the same needs but in order to satisfy them for a woman you need to put in a bit more effort. For example, men like to be listened to when they have a story to tell, women like to be listened to all the time. Men occasionally like to be complimented, women like to be complimented all the time. But in the end i'm just as stumped as the other 3.5 billion males in this lonely world. Maybe it's the kind of assumption from the opening sentence as to where men have been going wrong all along? So to surmise, what do women want? Why don't you ask them?

The Day My Childhood Ended

The coming of age occurs for men at different ages, each man takes a bold step out of his childhood at different times. Each man matures at a different rate and the process of becoming a man is no mean feat. Many boys are forced out of their childhood through situation, some are self driven to become men and others choose to stay within the realms of childhood. The Peter Pans of society.

I must say I was introduced to manhood through situational reasons. I neither wanted to enter manhood nor was I prepared for it. And my entrance was sharp and unforgiving. I remember it as vividly as ever, like it was yesterday. I woke up excited, full of life and exuberance, it was my 17^th birthday. I had more gifts than I could imagine, I had done the whole rounds, I was sure to visit every family member, aunties, uncles, and even the random people my mum talked to on her weekly trip to the market. No one was safe. It was payday and I was like a bailiff, I would not miss a repossession. Better yet I was like a collection plate at a Pentecostal church, everyone knew I was coming, they just didn’t know when and weren’t surprised when I came around twice.

I was on my final collection for the day, saving the best till last… I turn up at my grandmas with a broad smile on my face, enjoy a Caribbean meal, laugh along with my grandfathers jokes and then it was time, everything was going right, she handed me a large silver envelope embellished with glitter. I opened it with excitement. Grandma always looked after me, visiting her was always a pleasure, warm comforting hugs, copious amounts of dinner on the table and to top it off the monetary gain. Everything was perfect at grandmas. 7th birthday…"here Ross, here’s £5 to get some sweets!" 11th birthday …"here Ross, here’s £10 to get some sweets"…16^th birthday…."here Ross here’s £20 to…" you guessed it, to get some sweets. A visit to grandmas was like a trip to the royal mint.

Grandmas tradition was to wait until you were leaving before giving your gift. My heart was filled with joy as I received the luminescent silver envelope. I glumly thought to myself "ahh you've done it again, haven't you grandma". Don't count your chickens before they hatch is probably the moral to this experience, because I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but an empty card was not one of them. Have you ever opened a card carefully expecting to see money gracefully fall from it's crease, instead the only thing that drops is your heart to your stomach, leaving you with no choice but to try to hold back your disappointment and grin graciously. Nothing was in there, not a red cent. I frantically re-examined the envelope to make sure I didn’t miss anything, whilst attempting to maintain my composure and keep a smile on my face.

I read the card aloud, "Happy Birthday Ross, You're a big man now, we hope you have a lovely day" I smile attempting to hold back my initial disappointment (I failed miserably), but then immediately come to the realisation that in their eyes I had grown up and had achieved adulthood. That is definitely something to be proud of, I suppose.  It was now time for my younger cousins to take the throne. Sigh, I admit I had a good run. Being the youngest child, allows you that. But like all good things, they come to an end and mine had come to a brisk and premature one. It was all downhill from here.