Friday night, the girls and I headed out to a local bar for a few glasses of bourbon—just a way to blow off some steam after the work week.
I'm single, or as people like to say these days, "dating but not looking." At home, the only thing waiting for me is my cat. It's been five years since I've been in a relationship that involved any actual commitment. Things just never seemed to click; either he wasn't the one, or I wasn't. Plus, guys today usually prefer the path of least resistance, trying to catch a woman's interest through social media. If some "cold-hearted" girl doesn't appreciate his effort and ignores the message, no big deal—he'll just find someone else desperate enough to give him a chance to show off his typing skills and reply to his profound "hey."
Seriously, the romantic days when gentlemen actually introduced themselves in parks, coffee shops, or on the subway are long gone. Now, the peak of masculine courage is when a guy, fueled by liquid bravado at the bar, offers to buy you a drink. Don't get me wrong—I'm not trying to generalize! Not at all. It's just that the vast majority fit that description. But in fairness to the men, I have to admit that women are partly to blame for this sad state of affairs. The desire so many women have to control everything—to be independent, tough, and frankly, to "wear the pants"—while chasing purely material interests has practically sidelined the traditional role of the provider.
Anyway, the girls and I were unwinding at the bar, joking around and taking selfies, when trouble arrived from out of nowhere. A guy appeared at our table—tall, athletic, broad-shouldered, and well-dressed. Naturally, he had a charming smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye. My heart immediately sensed danger! It has a habit of enjoying being broken every once in a while. A red light started flashing in my brain: "Run, you idiot!" But my new acquaintance quickly numbed my cognitive functions with a round of tequila. Our group migrated from the bar to a karaoke lounge, where I decided he was a kindred spirit. Before long, we moved on to long kisses, slow dances, and wandering hands. When the sun started coming up and the clubs began to close, we weren't ready to end the night, so I invited him back to my place.
***
His name was Arthur. He was twenty-eight and worked in medical sales—so, as you can imagine, he was a professional at smooth-talking. He had his own condo, a solid income, a quick wit, and a great sense of humor. He was handsome, too. What more could a girl want?
It was past noon. I felt a slight twinge of shame waking up in bed with a man I barely knew, which isn't usually like me. He went down to the street to grab a smoke, and my mind started racing: Would he come back? Would he just disappear without saying goodbye? Honestly, when the door opened and Arthur walked back in, I felt a wave of relief. By the time he asked if I wanted to spend the evening with him, my heart was thumping in my throat. We went to his place, ordered my favorite sushi, drank more bourbon, and talked about everything under the sun. We spent the night wrapped up in each other. I felt like this was "it." Towards morning, I headed home, glowing with happiness. Still, deep down, there was that nagging fear: "What if he never calls? What if I never hear from him again?" But the very next day, Sunday, Arthur texted and asked me to come over on Monday after work.
Ladies, I'm begging you: when you meet a guy, never—and I mean never—run to a date the second he asks, especially on his terms! Let the candidate simmer for a bit, I swear. Tell him you already have plans that day and suggest a different time that works for you. Be busy, but don't overdo it. You want to stoke the fire, not douse the sparks. And don't you dare think that if you say no once, he'll never want to see you again. Don't tell yourself, "But he's so great, and I haven't been in a relationship for so long, and it's been forever since I met a decent guy—if ever." Trust me, it'll only make him want to see what you're all about even more.
And how do you think I reacted to his invitation? Of course, I went flying over there on cloud nine. That was the first moment I devalued myself as a woman in his eyes. I showed him I was completely available, unoccupied, and ready to stand at his doorstep whenever he snapped his fingers. At the time, I wasn't thinking about that; I had no idea where it would lead. I thought I was doing the right thing—that we were adults with past experiences, so why play games if I'd met a normal guy I was attracted to? You have to play the game, girls! At the beginning, you absolutely have to. It's the oldest story in the book: the man is the hunter, the woman is the prize. But for some reason, when it's time to play hard to get, we ignore our brains and listen to our naive, bruised hearts—the hearts that have been starved for real love for so long that they believe "this time will be different," right before they're shattered into pieces once again.
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