Pay Dates

I’ve always found it humorous to hear a man declare: “I’ve never paid for a woman’s company.” Clearly this can only be stated by a man who has never spent any time with a woman. Dating, courting and even flirting incurs expense. Even attempting to engage a woman in conversation is oftentimes costly. Do you think she’s going to be there simply to be showered with your great wit or amazing insight alone? Keep dreaming pal! Detaining her through means involving force is frowned upon and can lead to involvement by authorities, so you’ll only maintain her attention as long as you are providing entertainment, drinks and food to keep her in range.

Yes, I agree that this does look quite similar to the practice of enticing game into a particular killing field by placing food and treats at strategic location. In fact, it is the exact same thing. But so far this technique has not been outlawed and as long as you stick to only threatening women with your bad jokes and poor pick up lines then you’ll remain on the safe side of the law.

If you were to keep track of the expenses you rack up for transportation, clothing, telephone calls, letters, dates, dinners, movies, flowers, drinks and the endless list of other little gadgets, gifts and trinkets you will be amazed at the investment required to court a woman. Most of the time the risk of loss greatly outweighs the long shot chance of reward. My personal record is horrendous so I won’t even produce statistics.

I guarantee you that a true cost comparison analysis would reveal that the short term rental of female escort services for an evening would prove immensely less costly than the long term plan of repeated, unstable payments required to maintain a woman.

Then you have to consider the intangible costs as well. Sanity saved alone would be incalculable. Subtract the inevitable heartache, hours of boring conversation you pretend to be interested in, meeting her family and hanging out with her friends, attending the events or show she’ll undoubtedly drag you to, dealing with unpredictably dramatic mood swings and other things you must endure, but cannot comprehend.

I met an old man once who expressed his wished for the reimbursement of time spent waiting outside shoe stores for his wife of forte-seven years. A brief glint in his eye was evident as he spoke of this secret dream. Alas, it was quickly squashed when his wife poked her head out of the store to shout loudly at him: “What are you doing? Don’t talk to strangers! You’re supposed to be watching my purse.”

His face quickly drooped even lower than before as the gray clouds resettled over his irises and he turned away from me without bothering to say goodbye. I moved several paces away to give him space to brood as well as to prevent enraging his keeper even further. But I did not leave the area completely. I watched the elderly gentleman from afar for a short while longer…maybe as much as ten minutes more as I pondered how he arrived at such a state. The man wore a cap labeling himself as a veteran of World War II so he clearly had not been led around by the nose his entire life. He was mostly bald now and a bit slumped at the shoulders, but a aged war veteran with a wife like an active drill instructor could be expected to stand a little less tall after nearly half a century of her abuse. As difficult as it was for me to stare, I wanted to ensure that this image was engrained on my mental hard drive in hopes that I would never allow myself to arrive at such a pitiful place in life.

I’m still working on preventing my own demise.