Thursday, March 22, 2007

The Little Things

For those of you who aren't aware of how I paid the bills until I went for this "screenwriting thing," I slung bullshit for a living. That's right, I ran a small Public Relations & Marketing firm. And really, all Public Relations, Marketing, and Advertising boil down to, in essence, is slinging bullshit - something I've become very good at over the years. This is one of the many reasons that I consistently date women out of my league.

Now I'm in no way going to give away all my secret sauce here, but for the purpose of this blog, I'm going to let you in on at least one secret: it's the little things that count.

For example, as men, we simply cannot compete with the female gender when it comes to the big things - like remembering birthdays. When it comes to relationships, we're handicapped. So what we have to do, is become creative with the little things that women don't keep track of. A woman may remember your first date, what day you met, and probably even the first time you had sex - but does she remember the first time she wore one of your shirts? How about the first time you went on a walk and held hands? Probably not. These are situations you can strategically use to your advantage. And the beauty of it is, you can make it up as you go along.

You screwed up and stayed out all night playing poker with the guys without calling her? No problem. Wait two days and give her a giftwrapped bar of soap. When she looks at you funny, explain to her it's in commemoration of your first shower together.

Not only will she forget about you staying out all night playing poker, but you're probably going to have some great sex that day.

The point is, it's the little things that count. This applies to more than just dating, though.

I recently heard about a couple I once knew breaking up. Even though I hadn't spoken to either one of them in years, it reminded me of something.

See, I hated the guy with a passion. He used to be someone I considered a very good friend. In fact, I'd go as far as to say at one point in my life, he was a person I trusted implicitly and looked up to. So when this guy betrayed me, it shattered my faith in the idea of friendship. And when betrayed or double-crossed, a man's immediate reaction is to fight. To break stuff. To be destructive.

Without going into too much detail, I wasn't in a position where I could just kick this guys ass. I had to get creative and reach into my arsenal for lessons I'd learned in my career. I had to look to the little things. What could I do that would be the equivalent of me taking him to the mattresses?

I fucked his girlfriend.

He, assuming I had forgiven him, had relayed to me his interest in a particular girl we both knew - and of his plans to ask her out once he returned from the vacation he was taking. I knew the girl was interested in him too, so this was my opportunity to strike.

The moment he boarded the plane, I was on the phone with her - inviting her over for the always-innocent "watching a DVD." A few glasses of wine and my ability to sling bullshit later, her face was planted in the arm of my couch as we went at it like a couple of jackrabbits. When we were finished, I told her that I didn't want this incident to ruin our friendship, and that our mutual friend was interested in her. She understood my guilt and agreed we'd never mention it, most especially to our friend who was getting back from his trip in three days.

He returned, and sure enough he asked her out and they hit it off.

To make sure and plant the seeds of doubt in his mind, in case I ever felt the need to destroy him, I confided in him that I had asked her out while he was gone, but that nothing happened. She confirmed the fake story to him. He didn't speak to me for two weeks, but they continued to date.

When they finally moved in together, I felt vindicated. The fact that he had no clue my sausage had laid claim to the land he was looking to acquire made it all the more satisfying. They dated for three years.

So hearing about their breakup recently, I was reminded of this valuable lesson that I wanted to share with you all:

It's the little things that count. Oh, and if you remember ever betraying me, I probably fucked your girlfriend.


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