I should have known better.
It was a given: sooner or later I'd get "caught."
To be clich+â-¬ for a second, maybe I'd have been better off "policing myself."
(Hey -- at least I'm not going to lie about it.)
But instead, I acted as I normally do around a group of collegiate scholars enjoying each other's company on an idle weekend night: witty, outgoing and (at least attempting to be) funny.
Normally I receive laughter.
Instead I got called out.
I was accused of developing, harboring and executing what can be defined in this paper as only a "penile defense strategy."
In other words, serving as a barrier between my friend and his interaction with a creature of the femine part of the species.
Indeed -- the first thing out of my dear friend's mouth: an accusation that I knowingly and purposely set out to block any chances he had at having an enjoyable evening with a particular female.
I was appalled at best, and left in a state of such disarray that I couldn't figure out how to defend myself.
So, I did what every other accused male does in such a situation: respond with another choice, eight letter compound curse word that shares the same initials as this column.
Not only was "it" now "on," but apparently my rebuttal was enough to have things "already brought."
I sat angered while the friend continued on with his interpretation of the night's events. Unbeknownst to me, my actions that night came across to him as strategically placed moves built around the sole factor of keeping him and anyone else out of the female's direct line of hormones.
If only I was so capable...
Not only did this strike me as condescending and rude, but it also gave good evidence as to exactly how horny freshman males can be.
Give or take a few beers.
The exact transcript or a rough recollection at least (again, see prior sentence), is as follows:
Angered friend: "Dude -- you were so being a ..."
Me: "Do tell."
AF: "You and (other friends) were so hanging around the whole night. There was never any 'alone time' and I warned you that I was trying to get on that!"
(What I heard: "I'm blaming you because my game sucks.")
Me: "Man, she was rolling her eyes behind your back every chance she got."
AF: "She was just trying to fool you."
(What I heard: "I don't really have a good defense to that.")
Me: "Besides -- what were my motives?"
AF: "I don't know, but dude you know better. It is guy code."
Oh yes... guy code; that silly little never spoken, just assumed book of rules that call for all males to help each other out in times of dire need. Specifically: when attempting to obtain sexual partner(s), alcohol or in dealing with a byproduct of the two.
Now realizing that the conversation was headed steeply downhill, I immediately spoke my last line of defense:
"Get over it."
The conversation soon ended in haste and I was left wondering how I could physically block someone's genitalia from, well... wherever.
I'm sure that buzzword will still make its way into conversation again. However, I see this as a one sided problem - if one can't "score," it's his/her own fault.
And that's if you can see past the superficial one-night stand logic that's involved.
Short of physical intervention, it's all a battle of the minds in the end.
A valuable reminder as the spring season of love approaches.
As for my friend, he got over it and we're getting along great.
But I still maintain his game sucks.
Write to Dave at heydave@bewilderedsociety.com
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