BOOM, Derek!

Women are picky about the kind of attention you give them. The last woman I dated complained that I didn’t spend enough time with her – and then stopped returning my phone calls after she caught me watching her go to the bathroom through a peep-hole I drilled behind her towel rack.

Luckily I’ve been too busy with my new ceiling-fan business to get upset about the break up. But I’ll be devastated if she figures out that the Flow-Master 6000 I installed in her bedroom is really just me hanging by a rope with my arms and legs spread out.

Women expect their boyfriends to spend time with them, Derek – it’s why they invented the term “ball-and-chain.” But like most expectations, spending actual time with your girlfriend can be avoided if she simply thinks that you want to spend time with her.

For example, the woman I met last night expected me to have an expert understanding of medicine because I was wearing a stethoscope around my neck. Did that expectation change when I cut my finger and fainted at the sight of my own blood? Who cares – she gave me a kiss on the cheek as I was being loaded in the ambulance.

The point is, if your girlfriend thinks you’re making a genuine effort to spend time with her, that’s good enough. It’s dating strategy, Derek — you need to find a girlfriend whose lifestyle is incompatible with your own. Some men are lucky and can accomplish this with a hectic work schedule or crippling social anxiety. But for guys like you and me, it comes from having the law work in our favor.

I know, I know – it’s about time.

2014 can’t come fast enough! By the way, I’m busy tonight.

Dump your girlfriend and starting dating a 19 year-old. As long you can convince her that you think the legal drinking age is a sham, she won’t get upset when you spend six nights a week at bars with your friends.

It all boils down to expectations, Derek. A 2010 calendar with your underage girlfriend’s birthday circled in red marker is a ticket to complete relationship freedom. Be careful that her 21st birthday doesn’t sneak up on you, though. There’s nothing more awkward than when every bartender on your girlfriend’s birthday bar crawl greets you by name.

Perceived intent is king, Derek. Just make sure you know the difference between your girlfriends “expectations” and when she’s “expecting.” I learned that lesson the hard way.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, John!

Let me get this straight: you’ve been dating one woman for two years? That’s longer than I’ve been sober. I think your first problem is that your watch is broken.

But the real issue here is variety. Your girlfriend wouldn’t want to spend her time watching these television shows if your relationship offered her the same sense of adventure. Women are genetically programmed to gravitate toward thrill-seekers, John. Why do you think astronauts always have the best looking girlfriends?

If your girlfriend wants to watch TV every night instead of going out, it’s for one of two reasons: 1) she thinks she’ll be more entertained by watching Lost than by spending time with you, or 2) she has a rare, one-in-ten-billion condition that requires her to be within 10 feet of ultraviolet light at all times. Since it couldn’t possible be number 2 — the last girl I dated told me that she was the only person in the world with that disorder when she broke up with me — I know exactly what you need to do.

Plan a romantic vacation somewhere in the Caribbean. To make things more intimate, charter a single-engine plane to take you to the island and leave in the dark of night. When you’re within 30 minutes of your destination, tell your girlfriend how much she means to you — and then wrestle the controls away from the pilot and crash-land the plane onto a deserted island.

I’ve picked up more women here than any bar in town

It’s the best of both worlds, John: she gets the excitement of Lost, and you get the activity that you enjoyed as a non-sedentary couple. Women love the allure of danger – it’s why they sign up for self-defense classes. You can give that to your girlfriend by intentionally marooning her on some remote, barely-inhabitable island out in the middle of nowhere. Bonus points if the island is actually the very tip of a volcano.

My point is this: The only way to save your relationship is to transform your girlfriend’s life into the trite, contrived storyline that she’s seeking out in a televised adventure series.

Consider yourself lucky that Lost is your competition. When Titanic came out, I had to sink a cruise ship.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, Blake!

The dollar sign and the female silhouette have two things in common. One, they’re symbols of the most influential forces in any man’s life – the two aspirations that can drive men to accomplish the grandest feats and commit the most wicked atrocities: Women and money.

And two, they’re the hottest mud-flaps I currently stock at my online big-rig accessories store, e-TruckStop.com. These things are selling like hot-cakes; I literally cannot keep them on the shelves. Which must make it hard to have to choose one over the other. I feel for you, Blake, and I wouldn’t trade places with you for a million dollars.

Actually, no — I would. A million dollars would solve your problem completely.

But short of a million, I wouldn’t want anything to do with your predicament — which is that you’re a hopeless pessimist. Because as I see it, Blake, you’re choosing to focus solely on the negatives: Your girlfriend only loves you because you’re rich. But why is that such a bad thing? I only love McDonald’s for the McRib, and our relationship will continue to flourish so long as they leave it on the menu. It’s called compromise, Blake — they keep pumping out condensed meat in the shape of a rack of ribs, and I keep forking over the $2.89 that I spent all morning fishing out urinals and sewer drains.

Start thinking positive. If you’re truly concerned that your girlfriend will leave you if you stop making a lot of money, then think about what she’d do if you started making more money. Mow the lawn? Clean the attic? Put your bookshelf in alphabetical order? Love, like every other emotion, is traded in exchange for something else.

The EMS crew that I saw ripping open the collapsed skeleton of a Chevy Malibu with the jaws of life on the way to work this morning “traded” eight minutes of extra traffic to me for the flurry of expletives I shouted at them while I drove by. Now, would I be upset if I hadn’t gotten the chance to throw a piping hot cup of coffee at a volunteer paramedic this morning? Of course not, Blake — because I’m a grown-up.

These might as well be wedding photos

Forget about all the reasons your girlfriend could possibly come up with to dump you. I’ve played that game, Blake, and it’s not fun. Thinking about what “might” happen if the ceiling of your bedroom buckles under the weight of your hidden box of pornography and six-hundred pounds of smut magazines crush your girlfriend’s legs is kind of a downer — and the only thing that came out of it was an expensive trip to the hardware store.

What is fun to think about is your girlfriend loving you even more — and the only way to make that happen is to earn more money. It’s pretty simple logic: If you make more money, a woman that only loves money will love your money even more. And you know what aspect of your money she’ll have to love by default? You. You’ll be like the lifelong friend of the star quarterback in high school that gets invited to all the cool parties.

Things will start off rough — you’ll be teased, ridiculed, and harassed. But after a few years of abuse, the other football players and cheerleaders will begin to accept your presence simply because you’ve been there for so long. And trust me, Blake — once you’re “in,” you’re in for good. Unless the ceiling of your room in your parents’ house buckles under the weight of your hidden box of pornography and crushes the legs of the girl that washes the pom-poms after football games. In that case, your only option is to transfer.

So stop collecting “what-ifs” and start collecting what really counts in relationships: Money. Besides, hypothesizing over what your life could have been had you done things differently will seem a lot more fun after 40 years of toiling in a career that you hate.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, Brett!

Don’t blame your atrocious game on alcohol. I’ve scored more numbers at church in the past few weeks than I have in nightclubs, and I rarely pay tribute to the Lord with anything more than a buzz.

You’re not bombing with women at bars because they’re only attracted to booze hounds — you’re bombing because you don’t fit in. Bars exist to serve liquor, and liquor exists to get people too drunk to operate motor vehicles. When you stand around a bar sipping water and clearly articulating your words, you’re implying that a six-dollar shot poured from a five-dollar bottle of vodka is below you. You’re resisting the temptations of social conventions and elevating yourself above the bumbling, incoherent competition.

And women hate that. When I go out to a bar, I’m just looking for a good time and a few drinks to take the edge off — not a brow-beating from some holier-than-thou Boy Scout. You’re raining on everyone else’s parade by setting yourself apart from your knuckle-dragging peers, and that’s not attractive. Women don’t like a man whose rapier wit is as sharp as his starched collar and chino creases; they like a man that follows the herd. And at bars, the herd heads straight to the trough for a belly full of hooch.

A player does everything he can to blend in with the crowd, Brett. Any attention that you draw to yourself with behavior that’s not average or undistinguished will hang over your head like a poison-cloud of nonconformity. Do you know why unique individualists with extraordinary talents and intriguing perspectives are called ‘loners’? They’re not surrounded by women.

Without booze, this would just be another Tuesday lunch at the Macaroni Grill

Talking to women is a complex exercise in the principal of stabilizing selection. The diversity of a species decreases over time as the extreme traits of its population are marginalized; your weird, non-destructive character flaw is pegging you as an undeveloped relic of human history. The next time you see a half-conscious college dropout guzzle an entire pitcher of beer and then vomit into the coin slot of a jukebox, remember that women find him irresistible because he has successfully adapted to his environment. If there’s one thing that drives women wild, Brett, it’s evolutionary progress.

Make an effort to look and act exactly like everyone else when you go to bars. Bring an assortment of shirts and pants, and wear the outfit that most closely represents the average color palette in the room. Wear orthopedic shoes to adjust your height if you’re shorter than other men, and hunch your back if you’re taller. Introduce yourself as James — the most common male name in America — and tell women you’re 36.4 years old, the median American age. Drink as much as every other man you see, and follow their pace down to the last drop. If you’re the only guy not covered in vomit, blood, and Milwaukee’s Best at the end of the night, you might as well forget about picking up any women.

“Being different” may work for high school debate nerds and improv comedians, but it’s the kiss of death for grown men that want to seduce women. Whether it’s drinking booze in a bar, pretending to like football at a Superbowl party, or feverishly arguing that 9/11 was an inside job at a University Student Government meeting, you have to desperately cling to the status quo to reach player status. So go ahead and sip your San Pellegrino at the bar, Brett — I’ll be chugging Lone Star and loitering outside the women’s restroom.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, Aaron!

You’re a brave man. The only opportunity that women cherish more than belittling a man with incredible game is belittling a man with incredible game in the name of friendship. Trust me on this one, Aaron — I’ve got incredible game.

Seducing your admirer’s more-attractive friend won’t be accomplished through a hair-brained scheme. “Being honest with women” may work for the gender-ambiguous space captains of absurd Sci-Fi flicks, but 21st century windshield repair experts like myself have to rely on practical methods of building real, meaningful relationships.

No man’s game can overcome the impregnable bond of female friendship, Aaron. That is, no modern man’s game.

Tell this woman that you’re a millennium-hopping time traveler from the future. You fell in love with her future self only months before she died — in order to spend your life with her, you have defied the laws of quantum mechanics and abandoned your friends, your family, and your worldwide renown as the first ultra-successful heart surgeon to moonlight as a professional athlete.

To make your story convincing, you should distinguish yourself from contemporary men by adopting strange mannerisms. Instead of wearing shoes on your feet, put them on your hands and walk barefoot. Address everyone as “Abraham” and never brush your teeth. Describe your feats of heroism during the war with the Andromeda galaxy; claim that this woman nursed you back to health after being left for dead on the battlefield. The most enrapturing fairy tales are set against the backdrop of brutal, intergalactic warfare.

Sarah Connor? I hope you like the Olive Garden.

The time travel approach is effective for a number of reasons. First, it’s believable — who hasn’t wondered if they’re only desperately lonely because their soul mate exists in the future? Second, it’s romantic. The farthest I’ve ever traveled to see a woman is 30 miles, and it was only because Legally Blonde wasn’t playing at the local theater. Your venture into space-time manipulation in the name of companionship is a testament to your devotion to this woman as well as your mastery of general relativity. Two birds with one stone, Aaron.

But most importantly, it allows you to completely sidestep the unbearable tension that comes with being honest. You’re not snubbing the first woman for the second in this situation, because you met the second woman first — in the future. If it makes the story easier to sell, tell the first woman that you never approached her future self because she was already married. To the President.

The easiest way to handle confrontation is to avoid it altogether. There’s nothing to gain by being candid about how you feel, Aaron. Besides, if you’re on a date with this woman and she doesn’t end up being as great as her physical appearance leads you to believe that she is, you’ve got an easy out. You left your wallet in your future pants.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, Amos!

An old man with a ton of cash is a player’s worst nightmare. Think about it: Wisdom, worldliness, financial security, confidence, self-respect, responsibility, dignity, nice clothes, a car. What man under the age of 50 can compete with that?

Women are attracted to old men because old men are mature and have achieved success. But that’s not to say that women are only attracted to money — they’re attracted to all old men, because success is inherent in age. Every man eventually proves himself to be worthy of companionship, Amos. It’s only a matter of time before I trade in my efficiency apartment above a muffler repair shop for a penthouse with a view of Central Park.

Until then, however, I’m just Jimmy Suede: Elite Player and Windshield Repair Technician. And you’re just Amos: Reader of Jimmy Suede: Elite Player and Windshield Repair Technician. We can’t even come close to matching the skill of old men in picking up women because we’re essentially just younger versions of them, minus the life experience and coin.

How can I impress a woman at a bar with my triple-digit bank balance when the geezer in the booth owns a Leer jet? What chance do I have against a billionaire with one foot in the grave when I have to stay behind at the restaurant on dates and wash dishes to pay off my meal?

That’s right, Amos — it’s not just an old wives’ tale. I literally had to wash dishes for two hours as payment for a date. Which was nice, because I thought it would be three when I was ordering.

Your game is useless when old men are your competition. Just like in high school track, the only way to avoid losing to a superior team is to change the rules of the game. And just like in high school track, that involves being demoted to junior varsity.

Who can compete with that?

Start hitting on younger women — way younger women. You need to target women so young that the concepts of epicurean expertise and worldly cultural erudition are misunderstood for winning eating contests and being able to burp in Spanish.

Wear your old lettered jacket to a high school football game and brag about how fast your Camaro can run a quarter mile. Take a six-pack of cheap beer to a bowling alley on a Friday night and introduce yourself to every girl in the parking lot as Thunder O’Killjoy. Start a noise band called Tremor Death of the Third Apocalypse; play a house party tour in the suburbs until your van breaks down and you have to call your dad to pick you up.

Leave picking up women to the experts — old, geriatric men. Young (but legal) girls may be obnoxious and embarrassing to introduce to your friends, but they’re better than nothing. It’s like they say — if you can’t beat ‘em, get off the team and turn in your colored socks. The parallels to high school track are endless.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, Ronald!

You’re in a tough spot. Women like guys with money — it’s the whole point of getting rich. If this woman makes more than you and still likes you, it only means one thing: There’s something wrong with her.

If this woman likes you despite being way more successful than you, how low do you think she would stoop? Would she date an inner-city High School teacher? A starving artist? A hobo? If the amount of money you make doesn’t factor into the way this woman feels about you, she could just as easily be dating a vagrant. Don’t you think you’re a little more appealing than a vagrant?

You never want to date a woman that can’t do any better than you, Ronald. If you’re the best this woman can get and you’re not a billionaire male model that runs a charity for orphaned puppies, it means you’re settling. You’ll constantly wonder if you could potentially be dating someone that makes even more money than this woman. And who wants that kind of pressure?

Is she going to pay with that dog?

You should dump this woman — but not before you ride the gravy train a little longer. Have her take you out to some nice dinners and buy you a few suits. Invite her to take you to Monaco for a weekend to gamble. Let her tag along with you on a trip to Moscow to pick up a few Fabergé eggs.

Don’t feel sleazy for exploiting this woman with the intention of dumping her soon after, Ronald. Remember, you’re teaching her a valuable lesson: She can’t do any better, but she can do a whole lot worse.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, Tony!

Not many careers involve skills that transfer over to the pickup. Sure, astronauts and treasure hunters are superstars when it comes to seduction, but your average, work-a-day lawyer or doctor has to rely on his academic pedigree and status in society to entice women.

But guess how many women were hanging off of the guy dressed like Doogie Howser at the last 80’s theme-party club I went to? None — they all ignored me and swooned over the jerk in the Erik Estrada costume.

The point is, you’re lucky to be able to hone your skills as a player while you’re at work. You need to approach dating like a Rent-to-Own center approaches retail: You’re not looking for the smartest shoppers with the best credit or the cleanest criminal records — you’re just looking for someone that wants a TV.

Deadbeats don’t just need household appliances and furniture, Tony — they need boyfriends, too. And personally, I prefer temporary-basis, just-until-things-pick-up-for-me relationships with women that can’t really afford to be picky. When the expectations are low and the price for my affection is right, I’m happy with being “good enough for now.”

That’ll look great next to the table that’s missing 3 legs

There’s no glory in being the flat screen TV or leather sofa set of boyfriends, Tony. Those things are expensive and come with extensive warranties. They’re expected to be impressive and last for years in pristine condition. You get upset when you spill coffee on them. But worst of all, they’re used up in their prime and then thrown away or sold at a garage sale when they get too worn out to be seen by the neighbors.

No thanks, Tony. This corduroy couch still has some years left in him.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, Arthur!

Women can be really unforgiving. Especially when they’re police officers. And you’re shoplifting.

But you’ve got to remember that marriage is all about compromise. You can’t beat yourself up over your wife’s unreasonable behavior. If she absolutely refuses to forgive you, nothing you do or say will salvage your relationship.

At this point, you need to focus on forgiving yourself.

Pretty awesome, but it’d be better if the skull was on fire

I’m sure you feel bad about forgetting your anniversary. And you’re probably really disappointed in yourself for getting that hideous tattoo. But unless you’re planning on dedicating your life to building a time machine so that you can go back to last weekend and stop yourself from going to Vegas, spending another second thinking about this incident is nothing but a waste. You’ve punished yourself enough, Arthur — it’s time to put the past behind you.

Besides, what’s so important about an anniversary? You should be striving to make every day of your relationship unique and significant. By setting one day out of the year aside to celebrate your commitment to each other, you and your wife are implying that the other 278 days are throwaways. If you ask me, you should be the one that’s upset. Your “wife” has turned your marriage into a Hallmark holiday.

Move on, Arthur. And next time, skip Vegas and hit up Reno. The bookies there have much less aggressive payment plans.

BOOM!

      

BOOM, Barry!

Kids are a mixed bag. No woman is going to get involved with a guy that has a kid — they’re expensive, messy, and their innocent little eyes are always passing judgment. But on the other hand, they’re easier to train than dogs and can save you a lot of money on your taxes. I should know — the government thinks I have four of them.

You may have a lot of reasons to love your son, Barry, but women don’t. Saturday afternoons at Chuck E. Cheese’s aren’t the romantic trysts I thought they were when I bought $200 worth of prize tickets from my neighbor’s 10-year-old. That’s another reason I don’t like kids: They’re always looking for a quick, easy buck.

Something tells me that these robots crave the touch of a female humanoid

Players don’t have kids — plain and simple. You’ve got to find a way to explain away your son’s physical existence without committing to any of the baggage that comes with having a child: Baseball games, #1 Dad t-shirts, and Christmas. In short, you’ve got to play your son off as something else.

A cyborg.

Women love sci-fi, Barry, and underage androids are a lot more functional than underage children. Women won’t think you’ll have any problem taking them out on dates if “tucking your son in” simply entails stuffing him into a closet and unplugging his battery.

Besides, women will assume that your cyborg will become obsolete after a few years and stop requiring upkeep. Not true with real kids: They don’t leave the house until they’re 18. At $14 a pop, the six pairs of shoes you’ll have to buy them in that time might as well be a car payment.

Loving your son and denying that he’s your flesh and blood — or flesh and blood at all — are not mutually exclusive, Barry. A man can love a machine with the same fervor and passion that he loves humans. Just ask my parents — if you can pry them away from their electronic card shuffler, that is.

BOOM!