A Bitch is Born

So a friend (and by friend I really do mean a friend and just not me in disguise) was recently on a date with a gentlemen (used very loosely in this context) who asked her not once, not twice, but thrice, how it was that she wasn’t married.

The first time she giggled it off.

The second time she smiled and answered “I guess I have just been lucky.”

The third time, having now learned that he was previously married answered, “I have better judgment than you.” She then downed the rest of her scotch and called out to the waiter for the bill (or at least that is how I imagine it).


Despite her obvious contempt for her date, he has called her everyday since.

I wasn’t going to write about Why Men Marry Bitches. One, because it didn’t tell me anything I hadn’t read already, and two, because I think I am done reading these books. None of them tell the truth -- that there is no formula for falling in love. That you can do everything right and the guy still may not call you for a second date. Or you can do everything wrong and six months later your walking down the aisle.

Except, I’m not sure I believe that anymore. I am starting to think game playing is the way to go.
Stanley called me a couple of weeks ago because he wanted to fix me up with someone. Mind you, he didn’t know this person, only spoke to him once, but since he sounded nice and Stanley knew he was tall, he thought of me.

I said why not. I decided to try this new thing where I actually try new things. The next day I got a call from him -- still working on a nickname, so for now we will just go with Him.

Him and I spoke for about fifteen minutes. We laughed a lot and before it ended, Him said he would call me in a couple of days to plan to get drinks.

Then he friended me on Facebook.

I was in a cab on my way to a wedding when I got the e-mail alert. I wanted to click accept, mostly because I was interested in knowing what Him looked like. But then this tiny voice inside my head said, “this is a bad idea. You shouldn’t friend Him. Remember what that book said.”

See, bitches don't accept friend requests from would-be suitors. Bitches always allow for a little mystery.

What? I was really listening to the advice from this book. Obviously I have read too many of these. I immediately clicked accept.

I haven’t heard from Him since.

Now, I’m not unattractive. There aren’t any pictures of me on my Facebook page surrounded by cats and knitting. Nor are there any pictures of me drunk, squatting in an alley taking a dump. My interests do not include weddings and babies and crying during Kleenex commercials. For the most part, I think my Facebook page is pretty unremarkable and so I can’t understand what about it would make Him not call.

Well, except for the fact that I suddenly became too available to him. The kiss of death according to everything I have read.

I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t.

So, I am reconsidering my approach. Which is why the next day, when Mr. Tuesday Night called to see if I wanted to get dinner, I didn’t take his call. I also haven’t returned it. I figured in a couple of days he will call again, begging me to let him buy me dinner.

As for Him, well, we’re still friends on Facebook.