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November 23, 2004

Never Leave Your Wingman!

Wingwomen, on the other hand, are meant to be abandoned.

For $50 an hour, Meredith sips cocktails with well-heeled men who dream of getting lucky. But Meredith is no escort and certainly no prostitute: She's a "wing woman."

Meredith, 28, works by day at a top investment bank in New York. But for the past few months she has also been moonlighting at a different trade -- accompanying men, too busy or too shy to meet women, to bars to make connections.

Anthropological Observations And Conclusions

The act of appearing at a bar in the company of women is invaluable for the male of the species in that their presence serves as a kind of shorthand to the other females present; "This male meets minimum accepted standards for civility, grooming and socialibility." Thus assured that the male in question is unlikely to be a mouth-breathing momma's boy, lunatic or desperately lonely comic-book collector, females in the immediately observable area become relaxed and approachable.

In a number of cases observed during the study period (Bub O'Malley's Pub, 1985-1995) a single female from an outside group will often either allow an approach to be made by a strange male, or approach him herself in order to judge the reaction of the female(s) accompanying him. Invariably, any display of jealousy on their part increases the perceived value of the target male in the eyes of the strange female and her associates. The display of jealously allows them to determine that not only does the male in question meet standards for social companionship, but as a romantic partner as well.

Thus, a strategy for the thoughtful male consumer of the Wingwoman service is clear: Pay extra, so that when the time comes, one's Wingwoman will appear possessive and threatened at the approach of another female. Once one's relative worth has been artificially enhanced by this purchased display of jealousy, comic book talk is interpreted as a charming eccentricity, and references to "What mama says" is seen as heart-warming filial devotion, allowing the male to "Carpe Dame", as they say down South.

Posted by Bigwig at November 23, 2004 03:32 PM | TrackBack
Postscript:
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Comments

Oh, I'm so busy laughing about the research time period post that it's hard to digest this one. Y'all were sexy to women back then ~because~ you were confident, whether you were confident specifically about being sexy or about something else, such as being the smartest motherf***ker in the room. But you are definitely right about the single females from outside of the group. Pain in the ass, they were, like annoying, cloying moths to a flame. But they definitely kept the rest of ~us~ on our toes.

Posted by: cuddledove at November 29, 2004 09:47 PM
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