Friday, April 15, 2011

Indecent Proposal


      Out, as usual, with hot female friends who I don’t get to see naked, I stepped aside and let a prideful man have a shot. I’m not a c-blocker, people--I’d say I’m more of a c-greaser. I yield to alpha males and either learn from their amazing conquests or sweep up the messes they create. Nice guy to the rescue! I admit that I’m shocked more often than not by how often the underdog perseveres. All is right in the mating world. All is right.
      “I bet if you give me one evening, by the end of that night you’ll want to sleep with me.”
      “Ha! Not a chance.”
      “Well, you’ll at least want to kiss me.”
      “Nope.”
      “Then bet me.”
      “Fine.”
      “What do you want to bet?”
      “How about that fine watch you’re wearing?”
      “This is quite an expensive watch, and I am sufficiently confident to put it on the line. Now, what are you going to put up?”
      “Nothing sexual.”
      “...”
      “Dude, I’m not about to bet you a blowjob, so get over yourself.”
      “Fine. We’ll come up with something.”
      Later that evening I debriefed her. I found the man to be confident and brazen in a way that I admired. He wasn’t gross, mean, or perverted--just sure of himself. What’s wrong with that? The man had thick skin too. He spoke of training other men on the art of the approach. He was right--the most difficult part of what leads up to love is the approach. I’ve not approached many women who I should have. Much to my dismay, I’ve heard this painful line more than once: “I always had a mini-crush on you, but you didn’t seem interested.” Ugh, ball-less insanity.
      The woman the expert chased was six inches taller and twenty years younger. He didn’t care. He spoke of dating women much younger and taller, even ripped from the claws of  men left stupefied as their women slipped away into his arms. The guy loves a challenge and I’m not convinced he’ll fail, no matter what she says.
      “He’s gross. He has no shot at all. I’m going to be holding his watch at the end of the evening.”
      “I’m not ready to slide my chips over your number quite yet, my dear.”
      “Seriously. He’s a fucking lawn gnome. Nothing he can say or do will make me want to kiss him.”
      “You can’t be the first woman to make such a claim. I want to see him in action.”
      “Fine, but there’s no way.”
      “What if he hypnotizes you or something?”
      “Just make sure nothing lands in my drink.”
      “Fine. I’ll play referee. This is a dangerous game, though. I’ve seen numerous tens lassoed by sixes armed with charm, humor, and determination.”
      “Not a prayer.”
      I can’t wait to watch this play out.

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