I had an amusing thought the other morning that I figured I’d ramble about for a bit, as long as I’m posting somewhat more introspective blather thoughts.

I’d just gotten out of the shower, on a morning when I was running just a bit too late to bother with shaving, and was looking a bit scruffier than I normally care to, when I remembered Prairie commenting that she liked the way I looked when I was a little scruffy. Somehow, this triggered a small cascade of theory-building as to how I appear to people, and why I’m attractive to people who get to know me.

(Yeah, okay, so this is starting off sounding kind of egotistical — and it may very well continue to sound that way — but it’s not really meant that way. Heck, I’m not even sure how much of what follows is actually grounded in the real world, but it’s a fun concept to play with, at least. There are also a lot of generalizations and stereotypes in here — just bear with me, okay?)

To start with, there’s the stereotype of women being attracted to the “bad boy/rebel” image (yes, a stereotype, though I’ve found that most — if not all — stereotypes have some grounding in reality). The “strong silent” type. The guy with just a hint of danger about him. Not enough to really scare you, but enough to make things just that much more titillating than the “safe” guys are. One could make a strong argument that the attraction to that image is something of an ingrained evolutionary holdover: who’s more likely to be able to support a household and defend both himself and “his woman” — the nice, sweet, soft-spoken “safe” guy with the English Lit degree, or the dark, brooding, possibly somewhat dangerous guy with the leather jacket and Harley-Davidson motorcycle?

Unfortunately, many of the men who project that somewhat dangerous image do so because, well, they’re somewhat dangerous. Anything from just self-centered and inconsiderate on up to emotionally or physically abusive, they make great Alpha Males, but end up being painfully inadequate when it comes to being caring partners.

Where I’m starting to wonder if I come into the picture is the odd space in between the two extremes.

I manage to capture some of the “bad boy/rebel” mystique through the way I dress (predominantly black clothing, black leather jackets or trenchcoat), the way I look (in the past, half-shaved head, long hair half dyed black, and goatee; currently sporting a shaved head and trim beard — not as ‘counter-culture’ as it used to be, but still not exactly a ‘prep’ look), the circles I tend to run around in (generally the industrial/gothic/alternative scene), and the whole introvert/loner aura that I babbled a bit about in my previous post. There’s a definite “dark” side to my personality that often comes out in my sense of humor, or the music, movies, or artwork that I’m drawn to.

At the same time, I’m actually a fairly decent guy (yeah, cue the ego…). I’ve developed all these silly habits over the years of actually respecting people, being able to listen to what people say, to talk to and with people rather than at them. To hold discussions with people, even when I don’t agree with them, instead of rapidly denigrating into arguments or namecalling (or violence). I’m lucky enough to have two or three brain cells to rub together, and I don’t mind doing so from time to time.

End result? I’m the “safe bad boy” — or, as I titled this post, the “rebel without a threat.” Enough of an oddball dark side to catch someone’s interest, but still quite able to make a good impression on the folks when I come by to meet the family. “Dangerous” enough to be entertaining, yet “safe” enough not to be threatening.

So — any thoughts? Did any of this actually make sense? Could I have actually stumbled upon something here — or am I just entirely off my rocker and desperately trying to inflate my ego? ;)

[See also: We need pink! Manly pink! | What Al said, in tiny bits. | Tattoo number two: Ouroboros | Redesigning | Dark Suckers ]

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