Did I ever tell you about the time I was a stellar wing-man? Oh yes, not a wing-woman (I can barely snag a man for myself, let alone a friend.)
But no. I wing-manned for Buddy, he got both her phone number and a lusty makeout session.
Now Buddy is asking me "first date advice". I'm playing Cyrano de Bergerac.
And it is fucked being on the other side of the fence. I've got this chick eating out of Buddy's hand.
And ya, maybe he does like her and his intentions are half-way honourable.
But it's all a fucking game.
What happened to good ol' fashioned honesty?
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