the weekend wingman

wingman. the integral partner when it comes to the courtship dance. he’s the one that takes the flak. he the one that gets 2nd pick. he’s the one that gets a complimentary pat on the back and a mouthed ‘thank you’ as you leave with that hot chick in tow.

the self sacrificing, under appreciated wingman.

and so ever since i have been single, i have been relegated to the rank of a wingman amongst my male friends. oh i don’t mind getting them laid, but it isn’t pretty in more ways than you can imagine, when i get stuck with the unwanted one. but i still play nice. i introduce myself and buy her drinks. i strike up a conversation and try to hold it for as long as i can before the awkward silence, the looking around, the forced smile and laugh when our eyes inadvertently meets creeps in.

gosh, some days i seriously wish you girls would bring some better looking wing(wo)men. i know you all have better looking friends for fucks sakes! you may not be interested but at least have mercy(pity?) on him? you might want that friend of yours who hasn’t got a boyfriend since lower secondary 20 years ago to get laid but no, not all wingmen are desperate and would jump any girl. take my word for it.

bleah, seriously guys, i really really really don’t feel like dancing tonight… ><

-scissor sisters: i don’t feel like dancing-

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