O Reciprocity, Where Art Thou?

[Note: This was originally a post for a mailing list I use to get in touch with some friends but I decided I would post it to this blog as well - note the names have been changed but will be used consistently from now on.]

In other news, I got my friend another girl on Saturday. Assuming quality wingmanning gives you a half-point, that puts me on 2.5 for nothing in our little commune in Glasnevin.

In fact, if we are to be honest, crap wingmanning should get you negatives and that would put him further behind.

Rather than be presumptive and give him a negative, I have decided to let the public decide.

Picture the scene (some of you will be aware of these events):

Our hero is talking to a girl on a night out and concocts a blatant but good-natured story (lie is such a harsh word) to win her favour.

He claims to have sung her praises to all of his friends and as a result, they all think she is great. Cunningly, he does not mention that such a thing was unnecessary as she has that rare combination of beauty and personality so they liked her already).

Incredibly for such an honest individual as our hero, she does not believe him.

Said female approaches the Author and the Chameleon, asking them as to the veracity of his tale.

Now, I will admit the two lads were coming in cold to this, and being deep in other conversations, it would be unjust to criticise their lack of improvisation.

HOWEVER, the golden rule of all sales, and I quote Glengarry Glen Ross here, is

"You don't say a word until you know what the pitch is."

Sounds good, but not much help if you don't know what the pitch is. After all, these lads were deep in their cups and blissfully unaware of their companion's need.

Fortunately, our hero was slightly ahead of the curve. Having predicted this problem, he stands behind the fair lady, nodding his head pointedly, deliberately, and (some might say) outrageously.

Unfortunately, the two lads decide it is much more effective to stare blankly at the girl for a second or two. Guidance from our hero is not sought. No pleading glances are thrown.

They then round off this virtuoso performance with a pair of synchronised "Wuuhh?"s.

The maiden promptly spins back to our stricken hero, berating him for his dishonesty with oaths entirely alien to one of such sheltered upbringing.

Yet virtue has its rewards, allowing our hero to make an impression, so all was not lost. In any case, a fairy-tale ending was impossible due to circumstances beyond our hero's control.

One thing about the whole sorry affair above has struck me as being strange.

When by himself, the Author can be usually relied upon to quickly invent some derogatory comment about our noble hero, thereby circumventing the problem. Evil and unhelpful, admittedly, but brilliant nonetheless.

This did not happen here. The Author was left floundering, with nary an ascerbic comment or ignominous truth to be heard.

While it was girlfriended-Author in this story, he still had not fully embraced Zen at this point, and so that cannot explain it.

It must have been something else that blunted his sharp and painful edge, some other circumstance surrounding this tragic event prevented the Author from his natural reflexive reactions kicking in.

Feel free to comment if you have any ideas.