Friday evening, my girlfriends and I popped into a bar to enjoy a glass of whiskey, just to unwind after a long workweek.
I’m a single woman, as they say these days, passively looking for love. At home, only my beloved cat waits for me. I haven’t had a relationship with a man that involves any sort of commitment in five years. Things just haven’t worked out—either he wasn’t right, or I wasn’t. And honestly, men in today’s society often take the path of least resistance, trying to spark a woman’s interest through social media. If a cold-hearted lady doesn’t respond to his attempt to connect and ignores his message, no worries—there’s always some desperate soul who’ll give the guy a chance to show off his texting skills by replying to his profound “hey”!
Yes, folks, sadly, the romantic days when gentlemen met ladies on the streets, in parks, libraries, trams, or bus stops are long gone. Now, the height of courage is when a tipsy, flushed guy at the bar offers to buy you a cocktail. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not trying to generalize everyone! Not at all! It’s just the vast majority. But in defense of men, I must say women are partly to blame for this sad state of affairs. Many women’s desire to control everything, be independent, tough, and, excuse me, have “balls,” while pursuing purely mercenary interests, has practically “castrated” the stronger half of humanity!
So, there we were, unwinding at the bar, joking, laughing, taking selfies, when trouble came out of nowhere. A guy appeared at our table—tall, sturdy, broad-shouldered, good-looking, well-dressed, and, of course, sporting a sly grin from ear to ear and a mischievous glint in his eye. My heart sensed danger! It’s got a thing for getting broken every now and then. A red light flashed in my brain, screaming, “Run, you fool!” But my new acquaintance quickly dulled my senses with tequila. From the bar, our merry group moved to a karaoke club, where I felt a kindred spirit in this guy, and we smoothly transitioned to long kisses, tender hugs, and passionate dances. The arrival of morning and the closing of all the nightlife spots didn’t stop us from continuing our acquaintance, so I invited him back to my place…
My new friend’s name was Arthur, 28 years old, a sales manager (as you can guess, he was a pro at sweet-talking), with his own apartment, a decent income, smart, well-mannered, with a great sense of humor, and good-looking—what more could you want for happiness?
Around noon, I felt a slight pang of shame waking up in bed with a man I barely knew, which isn’t like me at all. He went downstairs to smoke, and my mind started racing: would he come back, or slip away without saying goodbye? And you know, when the door swung open and Arthur appeared in the doorway, I felt a wave of relief. When he suggested spending the evening together, my heart was practically in my throat. We went to his place: ate my favorite sushi, drank whiskey, talked about everything under the sun, kissed, hugged, and had passionate sex. I felt like this was *it*! By morning, I headed home, content and happy. Deep down, though, there was a nagging fear: “What if he doesn’t call or text again?” But the next day, Sunday, Arthur texted me and suggested meeting at his place on Monday after work.
Ladies, my dears, I beg you, when you meet a man, never—hear me, *never*—rush to a date at his beck and call! Let him simmer a bit, honestly! Tell him you’re busy that day and suggest another time that works for you. Be occupied, but don’t overdo it! Just stoke his interest a little, don’t douse the spark. And don’t even think that if you say no, he won’t want to see you again, “but he’s so great, and I haven’t had a relationship in forever, and it’s been ages since I met a decent guy, if ever.” Trust me, he’ll be even more curious to figure out what kind of person you are!
And how do you think I reacted to my new flame’s invitation? Of course, I flew to him, wings spread! That was the first time I diminished my worth in his eyes as a woman, showing myself as available, unbusy, someone who’d be at his doorstep whenever the mental “master” wanted… I didn’t think about it then, didn’t even suspect where it would lead. I thought I was doing everything right, that we were adults with past relationships behind us. Why should I play hard to get if I met a decent man I’m drawn to? But you *should*, ladies, you *must*! Especially in the beginning! Why am I even explaining this when it’s been said for ages: “Man is the hunter, woman is the prey.” Yet somehow, when it’s time to play a little coy, we ignore our brain’s advice and listen to the whims of our poor, naive, wounded heart, which hasn’t felt true love in so long and believes, yet again, that this time it’ll be different—only to shatter into pieces once more.
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