the rules... for grown girls

when it came time for dinner, i located my place card, only to find i'd been seated next to a female editor from a well-known magazine. i took my seat and leaned in close to the woman, so close we nearly touched foreheads, and said, "Do you realize how lucky you are? you're seated next to the most gorgeous man in the room."

the woman stared at me blankly for a moment, undecided in my reaction. i merely nodded, as if to say, well, it's true, and she stole a furtive glance to her left. i watched as her eyes widened and she inhaled. sitting on her other side was a god of a man. he just seemed to gleam.

she turned back to me and groaned. "you're right. he's a fucking god."

i surveyed her hands and, finding no rings, said, "go for it. make him yours."

she laughed. a sort of snort that was neither delicate nor feminine. "yeah, right. i'd have a better chance of going home with matt damon tonight. there's no way in hell this gorgeous guy would go for me."

again, i assessed my new friend. average height. better than average face, with a cute button nose and a nice smile. she sported a sleek blowout, what looked like professionally applied makeup, and a shoes-and-bag combo that most of womankind would kill for. her appearance, combined with her success as one of the most sought-out editors in new york, should have propelled her into the stratosphere of confident women; he insecurity made absolutely no sense.

before i could do a thing to stop her, she turned to the hot guy, tapped his arm insistently, and cleared her throat. she didn't seem to notice that she was interruprting his conversation with the woman to his left, nor did she catch the surprised and slightly irritated look on his face. he swivelled around and peered at her.

"hello," he said in a neutral voice, but i could tell what he really meant was, "yes? can i help you with something?"

she plastered on a ghuge fake smile and extended her hand, a rather awkward gesture considering how tightly everyone was packed in around the table. she ended up looking slightly spastic, a fact that wasn't lost on the guy. "hi there, i wanted to introduce myself. i'm xxx, features editor at xxx magazine. probably not your typical reading, since it's a women's magazine--but actually, come to think of it, we do actually have quite a few male readers. and surprisingly, they're not all gay, which is--"

"darling? would you happen to have a little breath mint, or a stick og gum?" i asked, gripping the woman's arm. it wasn't brilliant, but it was the best i could possibly do with this woman i barely knew. besides, i didn't really care what was said, just so long as she stopped talking. it was painful to see, like sitting in the front row as a comedian floundered on stage, or a best man flubbed his toast. it made me uncomfortable, and for this reason alone i stepped in."

i looked at the guy and said, "do you mind if i borrow my friend for a few minutes?"

my new friend opened her mouth to interject, but i took the liberty of pinching her forearm.

the hot guy smiled, nodded, and turned back to his original conversation.

i could feel the iciness radiating from the woman's body. "if you wanted him yourself," she hissed, "why did you encourage me to go for him?"

i sighed. "i didn't--don't--want him myself. i just couldn't bear to watch that. it felt so..." i tried to think of another, gentler word here, but i already felt so exhausted.

"so what?" the woman insisted.

i met her gaze levelly. "so desperate."

the woman inhaled sharply and i felt a opang of sympathy before remembering that i was doing her a favour. if no one had told her this already, she was pretty much doomed. so she'd hate me. i had bigger things to worry about than another woman hating me.

"it wasn't desperate," she whispered back. "i was just being friendly."

ah, the friendly card. i was instantly transported back to my teenage years, when my mother was trying to teach me these important lessons and i had raised these very seem same arguments. i smiled with the memory.

"friendly, outgoing, engaging, charming, whatever you want to call it, it still translates into 'available and desperate' when you're the one who initiates contact."

the woman appeared to mull this over, at one point opening her mouth to disagree and then changing her mind. "you think?" she asked finally.

i nodded. it was boring, it was so obvious. why didn't more women understand this? why weren't they taught it? "the rules" had helped a little, but hadn't done nearly enough; it instructed women how to deny men, but not how to seduce them. if i hadn't actually witnessed it myself over the past 10 years, i never would have believed there existed grown women who thought the way to get a man was to chase him. i'd found the exact same thing with my friends--they could be downright humiliating, initiating conversations, calling first, suggesting plans, and making themselves constantly available.

"so, i shouldn't have introduced myself?"

"no." i sipped my wine.

"well, how were we going to meet otherwise?"

i looked at her and tried not to get frustrated; i had to remember, it wasn't really her fault. "you would have met, probably in a few minutes, when he had introduced himself to you."

"oh please! what's the actual difference who--"

i continued as though i'd heard nothing. "at which point you would have rewarded his politness with a smile and some smouldering eyes, and then you would have promptly dodged any of his direct questions, turned away, and become completely engaged in a conversation that did not include him."

"even if--"

"even if he was midsentence, even if he asked you a question, even if he seemed smitten with you. especially if he seemed smitten with you."

she nodded, seeming more entranced with me than annoyed by my slightly patronizing voice. this was so basic it was elemntary; how had this otherwise attractive, successful woman missed it?

"so basically what you're saying is we should all be living embodiments of the rules? which, in my opinion, is totally unrealistic."

"i agree," i said. "it is totally unrealistic. the rules is a good place to start, for teenagers. but it's nothing for grown women. i mean, any book that addresses sex as something you should avoid or withhold is not remotely relevant."

"i was pleased that she seemed to appear transfixed. i continued, "because really, what's the point of men in the first place if you can't properly enjoy them?"

the woman kept vehemently nodding her head in agreement, so i kept talking. "it's a complete myth that once a man has sex with you he'll lose interest. in fact, it should be just the opposite: if you're doing your job well, it will make him want you more. it's all about finding the balance between mysterious and unavailable and challenging with sensual and seductive and sexy. you make them work for it--not just the first time, but again and again and again--and they'll love you forever."

"you sound so sure..." she trailed off, and i could tell she was a believer.