This testimonial is based on true events:

Sitting at the Mahogany oversized bar, watching the braided pig-tailed waitress pour our drinks, we smile at one another…every man at the local neighborhood bar has literally turned in our direction, away from the 9th inning of an intense Yankee game, and towards our sexy foursome. We pretend to be oblivious to the parade of post-work, well dressed men, coming our way, surrounding us and creating a circle of testosterone. We order four glasses of Sauvignon Blanc and crowd closer together, slowly beginning to take notice of the clientele: all men in their late 20’s/early 30’s, and all, well, mediocre-looking (and that’s being generous).

Each group of men takes their position, and moves in for the kill, waiting for a lull in our conversation (which is entirely about how to deter them from chatting with us), and stand staring, watching, anticipating. Twenty minutes in and ten guys have already struck up the standard bar conversations with us and failed, (“Where did you go to school?” “What do you do?” and my personal favorite, the stalker question, “Where do you live?”). As soon as we strike one out, the next comes up to bat, fearless like the last, walking away defeated like the last. We whisper and giggle and wonder when they will give up, and surprisingly, they never do…except for one guy…the guy who didn’t try at all…

He sits there, beer in hand glancing from across the bar at the spectacle we have created. He occasionally laughs at an overheard pick-up line or two, and continues to go about his business. All four of us have taken slight notice of him, not because he is exceptionally good-looking (in fact he was quite mediocre as well), but because he is doing the exact opposite of everyone else…and that makes him noticeable.

He stands and appears to be getting ready to leave, motioning over to the waitress, asking for what I believe to be the check. I look away, hardly thinking anything more of him, and suddenly the waitress is in front of us smiling. She informs us that the man across the bar has bought us a round of drinks, and as she points and we look to get a glimpse of this generous suitor, we see that he is gone…the “man who didn’t try” is gone. Just like that. And THAT was all he needed to do. We felt his presence even though he had left, looking at one another in amazement, each of us secretly scoping out the place for him…

Sometimes doing less is more. Sometimes being a mediocre someone, means having to do something non-mediocre to get you where you want to be. I hope he knows, wherever he is, that he got there. Not one of us can or will forget his face, or the fact that of all the compliments and attention we received that evening, his action was the most moving and the most impressing. He was the only man that we really saw that night, and the only man who wanted nothing more than to make four girlfriends tell a story for years to come of the “drink that made the man. [Via Pimpwiz.com]

For more on the inner workings of women everywhere:
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Labels: Ask Lauren, women