So, it’s your typical Friday night. If you are anything like me, you’re at home sitting behind the computer simply enjoying the many, tantalizing wonders of the Internet. Then later you’ll simply take out a carton of ice cream, maybe a bottle of vodka, possibly a joint, and sit there wasting your wonderful night away wallowing in your own pathetic nature. I mean it isn’t that bad, you just don’t want to do anything else. You like being single, and like staying home every, single weekend. It’s not sad. It’s not demeaning. You don’t need a woman to be happy. You’re a free bird: an unbridled soul doused in limitless potential, liberty, and sad lonely weeknights. And in actuality, hate this lonely mess you call a life. Screw your Friday night game of Dungeons & Dragons, and screw your Saturday evening LARP session down in the woods no matter how fun it is: You’re going to get yourself a date.
Now first thing you need to do is understand the female perspective. You probably think she wants a sweet, sensitive man, just like you, that will listen to her every dream and tale she has to tell. She wants someone who can dance, dress nice, and someone to be under her thumb like a texting pad. You better prepare yourself: expect hours of your life to be spent slaving for her, following her every whim, simply to obtain some affection from her. You believe deep down inside is a wonderful being who is composed of nothing but love, who laughs at your jokes, who doesn’t make fun of you for being the loser you know that you are, and is really, really great for a good night of old fashioned bare naked gymnastics.
Of course, your two good friends Anti-perspirant and the wood chipper (pseudonyms for your left and right testicles, respectively) will be put into the same, expensive Gucci bag you worked your ass off to get for your pretty little princess. You will be her “Bitch” for lack of a better term, and the trophy of her feminine power and dominance over the tyrannical, chauvinistic male form.
“Be Strong Female! Power to you!”
You’ll be paraded around day by day, and it will all be okay because she will love you and keep you forever like that puppy she’s always wanted. You’ll go on for months and months, pulled along by your balls and chain, only to reach the final goal. The one thing every man finds at some point at life that brings him to untold places of imagination, so vivid that his mind and heart can barely handle it.
You get dumped.
“How can this be?” you say. You also say “I was kind to her,” “I was good to her,” and ask yourself “Where did I go wrong?”
It’s not that you went wrong with her at all, it’s just that she wanted to be friends or she just wasn’t feelin’ it yo. If you’re one of the really, really lucky ones, she may have decided to leave your good friend Shillig McFouldounger (the pseudonym for the male phallic) and wood chipper behind with you, and maybe your heart will be in five pieces as opposed to the normal ten. Hell, you should even consider yourself lucky: you can go back to your lifestyle of Dungeons & Dragons and LARPing that no man can resist, and you can finally get a lot more “alone time.” She will have moved on to another man, who is most definitely better looking, and maybe something sexy like an athlete or a musician as opposed to a role player like you. You can finally enjoy the single life of eating raw cookie dough and enjoying reruns of Stargate: SG-1.
Of course, there is the ulterior motive. You hate your nerdy life, and want another woman so bad you swear you can feel yourself practically exploding with hot, steamy impatience. You can’t really handle another woman again. She’s ruined you, made you a shell of a man, and destroyed all that you were. Every girl after her will be a comparison to how she treated you, and how she broke your heart with a mighty swing of her cold, ruthless hammer of lies. So figure, might as well cut out the middle ground. Who needs all those silly things, like love, emotional bonding, and first names? Why not simply find a nice girl, and then just hit a homerun in the world of baseball-sex analogies?
This new dating method is one quite commonly exercised amongst the community of single men looking for one-night stands that lack the natural ability to get them. It can be cheap, is generally reliable, and entirely legal in most places. This dating method consists of finding a lovely lady, spiking her drink, and playing the waiting game as she slowly slips into a barely conscious state of erotic fun.
Your first step is to find some of the wonder drug known as Flunitrazepam, known by most as roofies. The best place to look will be the pharmacy if you’re feeling especially risky. All you need is your good friend the brick, a mask, and enough speed on foot to outrun the cops. If armed robbery isn’t your preferred method of obtaining goods, then you can most likely find some willing to sell them to you in a back alley or hanging out on the street corner.
The next step is to find a club. Considering all you need is a phonebook or the Internet to do so, I’m not even going to bother to explain how. If you can’t and need me to anyway, God help you.
Once you’re at this club, it’s best to look for the single ladies. Because the number of serial rapists has increased, discrepancy would be well advised. Women in flocks have a tendency to look out for each other, and with their hawk eyes, they’ll see you slip that magical wonder pill in their friend’s drink. If that is the case floor it, because you’ll probably wanted for things the cops don’t like a whole lot.
So once you find this heavenly woman drinking alone, you can make your move. The suggested method is to cause a distraction elsewhere in the room. This will give you time to pop the pill is her appletini, and your only job now is to wait. If you took the earlier suggestion of armed robbery, this is the best bet, because those who steal rohypnol have few other places to go. You could also try a more direct method, by buying her a drink. This is not very reliable though, for being the creep that you are, she will be suspicious. Also make sure she hasn’t had too much drink. Slipping her these pills when she’s had too much to drink will probably fulfill your fantasies, but only if you enjoy necrophilia. Otherwise, it’s best if she is buzzed, at most, this way the fall will be gentle, and the walk outside to your car will almost seem as if she wanted to go.
At this point, she is out of her mind. She’s doped up and ready to meet you’re good friend Shillig McFouldounger. Shillig needs to be wearing his reliable hat though, because even one ounce of your hot impatience is enough to get you jailed for life. Be Forewarned: the only LARPing done in prison is with metal shanks, not wooden swords, and they actually stab you.
You can choose to make some love by the dashboard light, or you can be romantic and find yourself a motel. Both are risky, but your already too far into this, and there is little more trouble you can possibly get into. If you choose the backseat of your car, make sure you have plenty of support, so the two of you don’t fall behind the seats, and so she won’t wake up with nasty rug-burn the next morning. If you bring her to a motel, there is little to worry about as they’re built for one night stays.
Once this night of charades has reached its end, it’s best you leave her in a motel, pay for the night there, and simply wander off back into the night. Now that you have relieved your impatience, you can go back to your daily routine of Dungeons & Dragons, LARPing, and Stargate, saving what’s left of the bottle for next Friday night.
