Archives for posts with tag: man card
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So you might have seen a recent discouraging study from the University of Kansas about the art of flirting. Apparently, when placed in a face-to-face situation and asked to chat, college men and women were really bad at recognizing when the other was working his or her moves. In fact, only 36 percent of the men and 18 percent of the women picked up on flirting cues.

Sigh. How have humans survived for so long? You might be surprised at the answer.

There are plenty of books, blogs and advice columns on how a gal should get a guy’s attention by making those sexy eyes over her shoulder, batting those plumped-up lashes and “casually” touching his arm. However, the reality is: Guys are reading the instinctive things you do more than your intentional moves. That’s actually good news if you’re shy or think you suck at flirting — and probably why men scored twice as high in the study.

If you’re attracted to a guy, you’re going to lean in, touch or bite your lips and arch your back without even realizing it. It’s like your body propels you into the mating ritual practically against your will. That’s what guys pick up on. “Most women can’t hide or fake these cues,” a guy friend tells me. “They’re like tells in poker.”

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Question for you: How many hours, days even, do you think you’ve spent breaking down the meaning of every text, glance, grin and utterance of the guy you’re attracted to? I’m guessing it’s quite a lot. You know — equivalent to the six months the average person spends standing in line during their lifetime. And just about as useful, really.

I’ve been there. I once crushed on a co-worker whose desk was positioned on the other end of our vast warehouse-like newsroom. Every time he stood up from his desk and just happened to turn his head north, I had an emotional spasm, thinking he couldn’t spend another moment without looking my way. If he caught my eye and smiled, I was sure he was covertly signaling our future wedding date.

Truth is: I wasn’t picking up the signs of his (casual at best) interest in me. Or worse: his obvious interest in other women at the office. I brushed those aside and made excuses and looked for more clues. And I mean, I looked really hard.

As with any good lesson, I couldn’t get out of my own way, and this one was best learned by watching my friends suffer, too. They cling onto every painfully vague promise of “where this is going” he might utter, and somehow read their vows between the lines of his wishy-washy words.

This realization led me to ask some of my guy friends a pretty common question: How do you know if he’s really all in? Their answer was a resounding: Duh! You won’t even have to ask. You’ll know. There will be no question about his intention.

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How could a television show about six single dudes in New York City who chase skirts, eat hot wings, sit around a smelly poker table and roll cigars possibly appeal to women? In many ways. Oh, so many ways.

Seriously, ladies. Turn off the “Sex and the City” reruns. Sexy-version Aiden isn’t going to build you a custom armoire anytime soon. You need to clear your schedule and get caught up on the Esquire Network’s new original series, “Lucky Bastards” — pronto.

In April, Esquire Network (the former Style Network that relaunched in September 2013) premiered the 10-episode series. The premise of “Lucky Bastards” is simple: follow six highly eligible and financially buff bachelors around Manhattan for a while and see what madness ensues.

The no-holds-barred, balls-out attitude of this posse makes for some great, entertaining television. When that’s paired with nothing-to-lose, guy-to-guy, wink-wink-nudge-nudge commentary, it’s a veritable overflowing fountain of insider intel that every single gal needs to take a nice long, hot shower in. Bring a loofah — you’re gonna need it.

The best way for modern women to find the genius in this show (besides the cute smiles and occasionally bare chests), is to realize it’s a celebration of men being men — unapologetically. Now at the halfway point in the series, we’ve seen that the situations are real and sometimes dirty, often crass and even distasteful. In a world otherwise filled with emasculating male-bashing, hate-filled blogs and television shows, I find “Lucky Bastards” refreshing and illuminating. But I’ve got thick skin and I’m open-minded; plus I want to learn. As they say: When the student is ready, the teacher appears.

My six new favorite professors are a group of old friends who range in age from 33 to 45. They’re not the ridiculous caricatures of men we often see on TV these days. They’re real, they’re savvy and they’re deal closers. Their personalities and business pursuits are quite varied, but their chemistry and camaraderie are undeniable and often combustible. There’s just enough douche-baggery to earn the “bastard” badge, but no one’s faster to call them out on it than one of their own — usually delivered in a swift, harsh, “don’t-be-a-dick” verbal swipe. The “lucky” comes in because they’re rich, well-educated, business savvy, good looking and well-spoken (proper grammar is always sexy). Here they are:

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I heard this question for the first time about six years ago. I was pursuing a guy I shouldn’t have been (fill in the reasons for his unsuitability … several apply). He knew he was wrong for me, too, but I was stubborn and persistent.

Until the day he asked me: “What’s your endgame, here?”

Endgame? What does that mean? I’m supposed to start at the end? Do I have to actually say it out loud?

It was time to bring in some help, so I asked my guy friends what this “endgame” was all about. “Well, what do you want to happen in the end?” is what they countered with. Starting with an endgame, they explain, keeps you on task, focused and purposeful.

Officially, this endgame term defines the final moves in a game of chess, and it also applies to battle strategy. Heck, Homeland Security even had Operation Endgame, an effort to deport illegal aliens and suspected terrorists in the U.S. by 2012.

If we’re honest with ourselves, women will concede that we look at every love interest as possibly THE ONE, even if he’s completely wrong for us. To put that in guy speak: Even if we know better, there’s a moment where our endgame looks something like Kimye in Florence, rose walls and all.

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ICYMI: This kid shows some early savvy with the ladies, but the best — and most revealing part — is listening to the announcers absolutely gushing over his strategy.

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At the end of a sweaty night in a dark, hipster coffee house turned makeshift blues bar, a musician friend of mine laid down the royal flush of man card material. “It’s all about strategy, man,” he said.

This was in response to my gaping shock when he relayed a conversation with a much younger, quite adorable, band mate. The kid wanted to play more gigs because he was broke. Why? He’d spent all his cash on his drums and the hot, red car he pulled up in. He’d bought them for one purpose: To pick up chicks, he confessed. “Dude. You already play the drums,” my friend instructed him. “You don’t need BOTH!”

This cute guy had banged on the drums for several hours, seductively throwing his head back, completely lost in the music, or so I thought. If he had just made eye contact or said hello to me, I would have been a puddle, and I didn’t even know about his sexy red ride. But in his mind, he needed a shtick — or strategy — to give him an edge.

After getting hit with this strategy card, it dawned on me: In all of life’s worthy pursuits, guys instinctively go into this game-plan mode; with deliberate actions designed for a desired outcome. Chicks get grossed out at the thought of guys running game on them, but it happens outside the dating world, too. Read the rest of this entry »

MANCARDLOGO

A few years ago, I realized I have a certain advantage over other women. Well, besides the whole tall-blonde-smart-funny thing I’ve got going on.

Truth is, women — no matter how smart, accomplished or beautiful — tend to make a lot of the same failed assumptions and mistakes that lead to frustrating, unsuccessful interactions with men.

But, to put it bluntly, I’ve often been someone guys consider one of those “cool chicks” who they like to banter with and, well, hook up with. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my share of failed relationships and embarrassing gaffes. I’ve really screwed up some good things I had going.

That is, until I realized that I possess one of the most valuable tools when it comes to guys: Insider information.

I obtained a lifetime’s worth of guy-speak intel by spending my high school years in the varsity baseball dugout (as the scorekeeper), in college writing sports for the student newspaper, and professionally in the journalism industry, which is (still) overwhelmingly dominated by men.

I’ve made dozens of very close guy friends who’ve helped me with tons of dude problems over the years. They’ve gladly provided lots of insight into how guys think and what their behavior really means. Not in that condescending “mansplaining” sort of way. They really wanted me to be happy. I know that because it finally dawned on me that I’ve heard a certain phrase time and again:

“I’LL LOSE MY MAN CARD IF I TELL YOU THIS, BUT, HERE’S WHAT HE’S THINKING/DOING …”

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