The scariest guy like this I've ever met was a carpenter/professional storyteller. This guy is in his fifties, lives in Berkeley, has a wife and three children. His wife supports them, even with the carpentry/professional storytelling. Every Christmas he buys her Birkenstocks. The scariest part: All their children are SINGER/SONGWRITERS! This woman always looks just a tad glazed, as if she's on a full-spectrum antidepressant cocktail. I believe the only reason she hasn't killed herself yet is that she is just too tired.
Self-Proclaimed "Renaissance Men"
I forbid you to go out with this guy. I forbid you to even ask him for directions. Any fellow who defines himself as a Renaissance man is telling you, in shorthand, "I am full of a quite yet all-encompassing knowledge and no matter what you know, I will always know better than you and will chuckle with a quiet condescension whenever you challenge me and I might even smoke a pipe. Plus, I don't make any money ever, but that is not my fault. It is the fault of the system."
You may think your Renaissance man is not like this. But they are all like this. The underlying theme of the Renaissance man is that his entitlement expectations are off the chart. Once when I was working on a sitcom my friend Marco and I went out to dinner with Meg, an actress, and Brad, her R.m. husband. We were talking, as all sitcom writers will whenever they can open their mouths, about the stupidity of the networks, how no good sitcom goes unpunished, etc. Brad looked at us pityingly.