“Lady Luck never smiles, so lend your love to me awhile…”

6♠

 

 

 

 
When I started this “one post a week” challenge to myself, I made the comparison to ⁂ gambling ⁂.

 

Specifically:

“Like a deck of cards, some will be worth more than others.
 
Don’t blame the dealer for that (it’s the nature of the game, after all).
 
Since, in the end—
 
It’s up to you to build a winning hand with them.”

 

 
It’s not by accident I did so and that I chose the handle “Ace of Spades”, years ago.

 

Nor that I write books under the pen name “Charles Spadille” [“Spadille” being the French word for “ace of spades”].

 

Life is gambling on so many levels as to be impossible to delineate properly.

 

Thus, with that firmly in mind, while speaking with frequent commenter Wald, I realized I’ve never addressed how to build a winning hand with “friendzoning”.

 

On its surface, being “friendzoned” is agonizing, disheartening and – to most sufferers – inescapable.

 

Yet being the inveterate cardsharp I am, I feel obliged to offer some assistance to men in the situation.

 

 

 

As I’ve been gently ribbed for not providing “actionable advice”, I’ll uncharacteristically provide such:

 

1} Understand your position. You’ve been declared unsuitable mate material. Railing against it or falling to bitterness will only hurt you. The female in question will only gain victim points if you punish her for her choice (which, frankly and fairly, is entirely – and rightly – hers to make).

 

2} Realize she has extended the offer of “friendship”, which actually puts her in a much weaker position (play-wise) than is readily apparent. She has willingly made herself available for reasonable social requests. If she has made the offer honestly, great for both of you. If not, she’s unwittingly sacrificed the game for a single hand. Either way, you’re set up to take the pot, down the road.

 

3} When the offer is presented to you: allow yourself nothing more than mild disappointment. Quickly smile and be grateful. Sincerely, since she’s just revealed her hand.

 

4} A week or two later, invite her out somewhere public. Make sure it’s somewhere she’ll feel safe and can easily excuse herself, should she wish to do so. Continue to invite her every few weeks until she attends or passes three times. If she passes three times, delete her number. In the unlikely event she contacts you after that, very mildly guilt trip her about not being a friend and ditching you so often. Decide if you wish to continue talking to her, since the ball is solidly in your court now.

 

5} If she takes you up on it, treat her like she were a male acquaintance [not a close friend]. Tease her gently; pay for her if and when you feel like it but not a whit more. Most of all, be sure to flirt with women in her presence. Be bolder than usual but don’t overdo it. Go for phone numbers of other women, even if you doubt you’ll get them.

 

 

 
All that said, why do I recommend that course of action?

 

1} It puts preselection to work for the man in question. An unromantically involved woman willing to be seen with him is better than none.

 

2} It forces her hand in the game. She can decide they are Truly friends, help him move on and share a good time out on the town. Or, she can excuse herself from his life, freeing him from further social obligation.

 

3} Lastly, yet not of least importance, it may (just may) cause her to reconsider her position. He certainly isn’t being clingy or cloying; he is taking charge of his situation.

 

 

 

In the event it must be mentioned, I’ll do so:

 

The key factor in all of this is genuine behavior.

 

Do not do this in hopes of winning her.

 

After all, she’s not a prize.

 

She’s an opposing player.

 

And it’s the role she chose.

 

 

6♠

“Cryin’ won’t help ya; prayer won’t do ya no good…”

5♠

 

 

 

 

“Guess what it is.”

 

His military experience makes the words sound like an order yet his omnipresent affability soften them to a palatable level.

 

Especially for a knee-jerk iconoclast such as myself.

 

 

 

It’s whiskey, I can recognize that much.

 

Lord and liver know I’m intimately familiar with that delightful poison.

 

But just seeing it in the glass is obviously insufficient.

 

So, upon his cue, we toast and sip our respective drinks.

 

 

 

“Well?”

 

This time it’s an outright question, if not necessarily stated.

 

I reply:

 

Maker’s Mark.

 

He laughs with only mildly exaggerated exasperation, saying:

 

“Damn! I can’t fool the oinomancer on anything!”

 

I smirk and laugh along with him.

 

 

 

For the next few hours, I’m blessed with good conversation and a fine meal.

 

My friend’s ample affability is outclassed only by his generosity, I’m lucky to mention.

 

Yet, something has bothered me about the exchange ever since that evening.

 

It was nothing he said or did.

 

It was my reply.

 

 

 

Yes, I guessed correctly.

 

As I said, I know my whiskey.

 

But it was the way I responded.

 

I almost asked as much as I guessed.

 

Not quite.

 

But close enough to bother me.

 

 

 

The unintentional reluctance to own my supposition irks me more than it would most.

 

Hell, most would’ve forgotten it already.

 

Not I.

 

See, nothing in my uncertain tone would’ve bought me a reprieve, were I wrong.

 

My answer would be correct or incorrect.

 

The lack of faith in my course would be of no help whatsoever.

 

In fact, it may have made me look less knowledgeable than I really am.

 

 

 

Thus, I’ve taken a lesson from that brief moment.

 

Weigh the evidence.

 

Use a reasonable amount of time to draw a conclusion.

 

Make the best decision possible.

 

Then act.

 

And realize:

 

By the time action is a necessity, uncertainty is a poor ally.

 

 

5♠

Voices

4♠

 

My computer died this week so, rather than miss a deadline, I decided to post something (even if it isn’t what I’d originally intended). The following is a message I received some time ago and felt it might be worth sharing.

“An observation I have about your writing, especially that clinical, super-objective, research-thesis-like style.

When I read it, I have to force myself to hear you saying the words. Once I do, it all clicks back into place that you’re just a man, a mortal man.

Because if I didn’t know you, (and to be fair, I’m really only beginning to know you), if I couldn’t hear your pronunciation of the words, your meter, I would have difficulty not believing every single thing you wrote at face value. And I mean, everything.

I know I’m not the best example; we already reviewed my levels of gullibility and trust; but when you lay things out in that careful, correct and well-researched manner, it sounds more than professional, it sounds like the words of a Prophet.

Now, God, please forgive me my blasphemy. “

– a regular reader

 

* * *

 

Regular Reader,

I very much appreciate your kind words. However, permit me to point out you haven’t blasphemed. All of the prophets were “just mortal men”. That’s where humanity defeats itself. They expect prophets themselves to be divine. They aren’t; their message is. That tone you hear is Truth. It’s so unfamiliar these days it’s understandable why it would seem almost supernatural. You should believe what I tell you; especially when I take that tone. You’ll come to find you’d likely get to many of my conclusions on your own, regardless, after significant time and effort.

 

Sincerest best wishes,

A♠

 

 

4♠

“There ain’t no companion like…”

3♠

 

 

 

 

 

While there is more than a little bitterness in the tone of the respondent’s words, I believe her to have a rather solid, accurate picture of the reality I postulated in the previous post.

 

To be clear, this is not to say she has no reason to be bitter.

 

I don’t know her or her situation.

 

My purpose, at this moment, is to point out that male/female-cat/dog is not “good one/bad one”.

 

 

 

Like their counterpart animals, the issue isn’t the nature of them that makes them troublesome or dangerous (simply ask Jackson Galaxy or Cesar Millan) .

 

It’s all (and – barring rare animal brain-maladies – I do mean ALL) in how those that bring the animal in question into their homes and communicate with them.

 

If one’s commands aren’t clear, they won’t be followed.

 

If one’s expectations don’t align with the animals’ well-documented qualities, strengths and weaknesses, then one is in for nothing more than frustration capped with disappointment.

 

If one fails – or refuses – to learn effective means to communicate and necessary maintenance procedures, then one will quickly be without a companion and – instead – have an adversary in one’s living room.

 

 

 

Lastly, it’s best to start off asking the question:

 

“Am I able to keep up the end of this bargain I’ll be entering?”

 

Taking on responsibilities one is completely unprepared to meet (regardless of reason) will make the above tasks exponentially more difficult.

 

Don’t have a cat if you’re allergic to them.

 

Don’t have a dog if you live in a tiny, city apartment.

 

And, most of all, don’t get involved with someone without expecting the level of work it will take to make it worthwhile.

 

 

3♠

“I’m a tiger when I want love…”

2♠

 

 

“Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea. ”

– Robert A. Heinlein, Time Enough for Love (1973)

 

 

I’ve never read Heinlein’s work (I know, shame on me; I’m not a big science fiction fan).

 

So, I can say with complete honestly, upon reading the quotation above I went immediately to the Internet to learn—

 

How many times he’d been married.

 

To my utter lack of surprise, I discovered he was twice divorced and thrice married.

 

 

 

To those readers that have been with me for years, it should be guessed instantly that I believe he has it all ※ completely backwards ※.

 

Relatedly, I believe it to be no coincidence that my father’s steadfast insistence “Every boy should have a dog” and the ‘sphere’s somewhat cruel insult to women to “Die alone, surrounded by cats” are intertwined more than most in our modern – post-agrarian – world ever suspect.

 

I’ll dive deeper into this particular theory of mine more in later posts but, for now, I’ll state a handful of points:

 

1} Dogs were domesticated since they traded freedom for nutritional stability and security.

 

2} Cats were domesticated only in the sense of living with humans peaceably. They were not – and are not – trained, per se, because their natural inclinations (hunting vermin) served human needs well enough on their own.

 

3} On the whole, women love cats for their low-maintenance and their independent natures.

 

4} On the whole, men love dogs for their loyalty, willingness to obey and generally submissive natures.

 

5} Neither cat nor dog is superior. They each provide value to different humans. Only need dictates worth.

 

 

 

The comments section on this one may or may not quickly alleviate any need for further posts on this topic.

 

If not:

 

“Just say a word and the boys will be right there

with claws at your back to send a chill through the night air”

 

If so:

 

“…well, that’s alright by me”.

 

 

2♠