Written By: The Unsung Romantic
Her Codename: Mini-Carrie Bradshaw
Category: Fairy Tales
I know what you might be thinking. Any time that a girl uses the word “big” and associates it with a man, the first thought is that she must truly be referring to the size of our penis. What else could it be? On the other hand, there is the dreaded “big teddy bear,” which in lies the problem that you are nothing more than a cuddly, wuddly safe friend who in our male psyche we do not always grasp and still believe that even a teddy bear can get laid. The truth is that when this mujer stated the words to me, “You’re so like my big …”, she was referring to the television bible for women of the last decade – Sex and the City (SATC).
My reactionary internal monologue – “%^&$! that god damn whore of a show and the incurable STD it gave this city.”
Yes, I know who Mr. Big is in that dreaded show. Just like all good soldiers I was dutiful and watched this crap over the course of its never ending run through the scores of SATC influenced girls I dated. Not only was I dutiful, but three steps ahead of the game on female counter intelligence operations. I usually save this for the end, but here is a quick piece of advice: Watch the show, plus the two movies. On top of that, make sure every time you are at the doctor’s office or at any location where females are the primary customer, read Cosmo. Do you think I am crazy? I am not fucking joking around with this. Cosmo, was the old SATC and in a strange universe, they’re both one in the same. The array of misinformed, subjective and irrational advice given in that monthly rag, coupled with a decade of Carrie Bradshaw and her inconceivable escapades have transformed the landscape of rational (if there ever was such a thing) expectations women (girls) expect of men (not boys).
Look, we can get into a whole debate about how that show empowered women across the country (especially carpetbagging transients who moved here from middle-America in search for the glamorous city life,), but this kind of crazy manifestation of a new breed of women has nothing to do with the show being a top-notch production. It was, I tip my cap to that. It’s about the drowning effect it had on millions of women who are between the ages of 25-40 in present day. It created a false sense of reality. It made all of us fellas into living, breathing embodiments of all the male characters in that show. It made us men to be fictional beings. And for an unknown percentage of the women who watched the show, it turned them back into little girls in search of the great knight on his white horse. I’ve dated a lot of these women retarded into girls, but it was this one particular Big incident that made me realize I had two choices: 1) Either be her “Big” and let her ride out the fantasy, or 2) Convince her I am not “Big”, but I’m better than him and I’m real.
So yes, I know very well who Big is, but I still have no idea what that fucking means to this day. Do you? Maybe you can help out on this one. Here are my quick theories on what the incarnations of real world “Bigs” are:
Big 1: I’m a perpetual commitment-phobe. When the kitchen gets to hot, I toss her a fire extinguisher and dash for the nearest fire escape. I’m never around when she needs him. I’m sensitive to her cries at night, but only from a phone call or text away – never in person. I just don’t want anyone controlling my life. I am not cheater, but I need eternal autonomy and distance when I please.
Big 2: Charming. Dashing. Loving. Shares all my adventures with her. Make her feel as if she is the only girl in the world. Tell her she’s the most perfect thing he has ever met in my life, but … I won’t ever get married.
Big 3: I’m in love with women. Not one, but many. She wants me to be just in love with her, but she cannot change me. She knows I am this way, but will refuse to leave me. She hates me and she loves me equally. I can only show love for her, but she cannot understand how I can love so many. I must just hate her.
Big 4: I love her. I want marriage, but not now. I want children, but not now. I want to divert my energy from my career to my future wife, but it’s not time yet. I don’t want, think or flirt with the idea of another, but she tells me that can’t be because I am a man. I believe we live slow, beautiful lives, but we are moving too fast now for that to be. I love her and will marry her, but just not now, therefore I don’t really love her enough.
The truth is all of those versions of “Big” have a lot of truth in how these girls, maybe even women, see us. It’s their projections of how they want us to be so their insecurities, fears and emotions remain unhinged by the reality of a real guy in the world. You see, the television show ended with Carrie quietly winning over Big over the course of many years, therefore never having to doubt that he may still have been one of those guys mentioned above that will do nothing more than break her heart. It’s that fairy tail many girls want to live.
It’s the tail that beauty can control the beast, with one major difference in the stories. Beauty never changed who the Beast was, she just unveiled the real him. Carrie did end up changing Big, which only will lead to one thing … the return of the real Big.
I said above that I had two choices: 1) Either be her “Big” and let her ride out the fantasy, or 2) Convince her I am not “Big”, but I’m better than him and I’m real. I chose number 2 and that eventually led to the end, but she still does contact me. Why? Because this “Kind of Crazy” is the fairy tale kind who will forever see her life as the greatest drama ever told in story. Your choice is whether you can handle the crazy of a fictional tale for the sake of love or show her that non-fiction is a much better story because it hasn’t been written yet.
Background Check: Mini-Carrie Bradshaw also ended up being a fan of another great work of art, Grey’s Anatomy. Drama knows drama.
Do you have a “That’s Kind of Crazy” you want to share? Spill it and we’ll tell it.
The Unsung Romantic