Monday, 10 February 2014

Man's Best Friend is also Man's Best Replacement


The balancing act between what can be said, what should be said and that which should be left unsaid seems to be where the boundaries of etiquette are shrouded in fog; discernible only by those who have high levels of EQ (emotional intelligence). 
The art of ‘come ons’ seem to be positioned right about in the middle.  The most savvy are those with dual interpretation which allow for a duplicity of meaning.  This way there is an avenue of retreat, should the response of the party to which it is directed, be less than favourable.

Armed with a lighter and offering to ‘light someone’s fire’ at a braai (BBQ), has a definite double meaning and you will likely get away with it.  Albeit, you would be pushing your luck.  Saying that in the workplace, probably less than easily ‘back-peddlable’.   
I suppose those who regularly push those boundaries become exceedingly practiced in which case gives rise to yet another phenomena; heightened levels of charm and lowered levels of substance.  The problem with charm is that it is generally a reflection of an inner need to be seen and noticed which contributes substantially toward that same charm being readily and freely available to anyone with the slightest indication of interest. 

In lay-mans terms: ‘a player.’
And since I encountered one this week, up close and personal, the only conclusion I was forced to come to is that 29 is definitely too old for ‘that shit’.               

The good news is that 29 is not too old to be ‘come on to’.  So it was a little flattering.    
The bad news is that the quality of the selection of men, as time passes by, seems to deteriorate.  The good ones get taken.  So, I know it’s not a politically correct thing to say but; I have almost concluded that I should be looking for a man with a dead wife. 

And not just any dead wife because that too can be risky.  These days, even the circumstances around the death need careful consideration.  One that died in an accident.  And not any ‘accident’ either; you know what I mean.  Consider Oscar.  Accidents’ involving bullets don’t count.    
So the long and short of it is simply this.  By the time you reach ‘29’, the pickings are thin. 

But despite that, what I do know is that the right man is still important and that life has taught me that it’s better to get a dog, than have the wrong man around. 
I mean dogs are great.  They are always happy to see you when you get home.  They know when you have had a bad day, understand that they must simply listen and not try and fix the problem and would lay down their lives to protect you.  

They will happily keep you warm and are content to simply curl up at your feet. 
Many a man could learn something...