It’s all making sense now
“So Jen, where are we going Saturday? We need to go somewhere hip – maybe Wicker Park?”
“Definitely. God – I have nothing to wear…”
“How come I’m not invited?”
“Nat, you’re not invited because it’s singles night and you’re not single. Dee-Dee and I need to go someplace where we can actually meet people.”
“So I can’t even come with? I could be your wingman.”
“No offense, Nat, but you’re pretty much the worst wingman in the world.”
“What?! What are you talking about?”
“Okay – you either completely abandon me the second some weirdo starts talking to me, or you announce to the cute mop-haired guy reading Frannie and Zooey that I’ve never read Salinger before. This is not the definition of being a good wingman.”
“But I was being honest!”
“Why didn’t you just tell him that sometimes I like to play video games and eat entire frozen pizzas on a Saturday night? Or maybe you could advertise the fact that Dee-Dee is obsessed with wizard books.”
“Hey!”
“I’m just saying, Dee. You like your wizards.”
“I know. I really do.”
“Well, maybe I could learn. Just tell me how to be a better wingman.”
“Okay, for starters, you can’t just abandon me. You have to help me get away from the freaks.”
“Not a problem.”
“And you’ve got to can that honesty stuff. Make me sound more interesting.”
“Yeah, Nat. Wingman is supposed to talk up her single friends. You’ve got to work the room for us.”
“I do?”
“If you want to be our wingman you do.”
“So I have to work the crowd for both of you?”
“Totally. And only talk about the good things. Like, if exercise happens to come up, don’t say that I just finally started going back to the gym and couldn’t walk for a week after using the Madonna-Whore machine. Say something like, ‘Oh, you like to workout? My friend Jenny always has the best stories about her gym. You should meet her!’ Something like that.”
“Is that really what a wingman is supposed to do?”
“Well, that’s probably a bad example because I really don’t want to meet anyone who’s going to expect me to work out, but that’s the idea, yes.”
“Okay, I think that maybe all this time I was thinking wingman meant something else.”
“What did you think it meant?”
“I don’t want to say. I think I was just thinking of a different word”
“Just say it.”
“No, I’m embarrassed.”
“Nat. Come on, just tell me.”
“I think I thought it meant… pssst, pssst, psst.”
“Okay, Natasha. I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”
“Fine. I thought wingman meant… cock block.”
“Ohmigod! Wait… that’s what you thought I’ve been asking you to do all these years?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then I stand corrected. You’ve been an excellent wingman.”
Filed under: General on July 24th, 2007
July 24th, 2007 at 8:03 am
at thanksgiving my dad always asks ARE YOU A LEG MAN OR A BREAST MAN? since i’m vegetarian i suppose now i can say I’M A WING MAN, given your updated definition.
it’s sure better than saying, ‘DAA-AAD! YOU KNOW I’M AN ASS MAN!’ and dealing with the uncomfortable silence of the nieces and grandparents. i don’t know why people have to be so solemn on the holidays. just this past easter i was all like, ‘LIGHTEN UP PEOPLE! YOU’RE ACTING LIKE SOMEONE DIED!’
July 24th, 2007 at 8:08 am
Apparently marriage has a detrimental effect on vocabulary… thank goodness you and Dee-Dee were there to help poor Nat on this one.
July 24th, 2007 at 8:14 am
My occasional wingman helps find the guys, but they always turn out to be married with about 10 kids. It’s uncanny. I had to teach her the trick of checking for the shiny gold band. You could almost literally hear the ‘click’ as the light bulb went on over her head… YOU would make an excellent wingman. Could you please come to FL soon? I need reinforcements…
July 24th, 2007 at 8:32 am
God! I feel bad when I lay down a yearly F-bomb on my site, and you go and throw down a C-bomb! (“C-bomb”? “C-grenade”? “C-nuke”?)
That bunny head is making you think bad thoughts.
July 24th, 2007 at 8:58 am
And Jenny’s reputation is once again SAVED by misinterpreted slang vernacular!
July 24th, 2007 at 8:59 am
brandon: can i come to your house next easter? it sounds like all kinds of awkward fun!
shari: yeah, it was a pretty critical difference.
laurel: i can spot the ring from 50 yards. i’m booking my ticket to FL right now…
sween: I KNOW! isn’t that the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written?! no wonder nat had to whisper it.
dave2: phew! without my reputation, i have nothing.
July 24th, 2007 at 9:09 am
Geez, what a horrible misunderstanding. You could’ve been married years ago! With kids! Dogs! A picket fence!
On the other hand, maybe you owe Natasha big.
July 24th, 2007 at 9:09 am
Geez, what a horrible misunderstanding. You could’ve been married years ago! With kids! Dogs! A picket fence!
On the other hand, maybe you owe Natasha big.
July 24th, 2007 at 10:04 am
Sometimes a girl needs a cock block but more often we need a good wingman. At least she wasn’t necessarily failing, just misunderstanding her duties. I particularly love:
“I’m just saying, Dee. You like
your wizards.”
“I know. I really do.”
Ha ha ha.
July 24th, 2007 at 12:37 pm
sir: that’s exactly what i told nat: “I could’ve had eight curly-haired kids by now!” i guess i probably do owe her…
sizzle: everyone needs a good wingman. but a wizard wingman would be the best of all!
July 24th, 2007 at 12:45 pm
Dr Pepper. Everywhere.
Thank you, Jenny.
July 24th, 2007 at 1:26 pm
maybe that’s been my problem all these years, I’m in need of a proper wingman…Or the fact that I live in Iowa. (no man’s land) Okay, maybe I have several problems.
July 24th, 2007 at 9:07 pm
Dude, you made me laugh the snorty laugh. Ten charisma points to you, my friend!
July 26th, 2007 at 12:06 pm
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA
Oh that is excellent!
I have been told that I am a naturally gifted “wingman” too. Except they used Nat’s word for it.
July 27th, 2007 at 4:11 pm
Wait wait wait . . . how could she not know that? I think she’s yankin you.