As something of a foil to the “man” who’s mad into you but then forgets who you are five seconds later, the “man” who’s into everyone can’t seem to decide just who to channel all his sexual energy and enthusiasm toward, so he bursts forth with an intolerable amount of flirtatious excess.
I suppose there’s nothing wrong with carefully sowing your wild oats before deciding to relegate yourself to one woman. But there’s a difference between youthful folly and an utter lack of expressing interest in anyone or anything other than your own visual pleasure. Being into and aroused by every woman you encounter is not only exhausting for all involved, but it also infers you’re probably riddled with all manner of sexually and socially transmitted diseases. So if you find your eyes bulging out at every pair of tits you see walk past you from Driggs to Kent, try to remember to have some motherfucking discernment.