Never Buy Strange Women Drinks

I hate buying drinks for women. I refuse to cover the bill on the first date. It feels like I am buying a lottery ticket, only worse odds. And the women who demand it sound like whores. It amazes me – in the age of post-feminism and equal rights among the sexes I am expected to shell out money for a woman I just met.

I know the tradition of guys getting looted goes back to classic courtship practice, which dates all the way back to the age of chivalry. The difference is that back then, you were getting a much better deal. In the middle ages serfs weren’t allowed to marry – so courtship was mainly among the nobility and the merchant class. And the women involved in courtship often had hereditary titles, connections, and large tracts of land. They were also supposed to be virgins. So, you do what is necessary to get these women: buy her drinks, write poetry, start wars, kill her dad – because the benefits of success were enormous.

Now fast forward to 20th century America, before the 60’s. (read: before the Moral Majority claimed the country was going straight to hell.) At this stage women in general were considered the modern equivalent of Vesta: guardian of home, hearth, and virtue. As little girls women were taught to cook, clean, entertain, and preserve their chastity against a man’s wily advances. Their inspiration was King Lemuel of the Proverbs who lamented, “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.” A woman like this is worth every effort to get – because this is the woman who will run your house, keep you sane, keep your sons out of jail, and your daughters off the pole. Hell, I would buy one of these ladies a drink today just for being themselves.

Bring it home to the 21st century, specifically last night. I am out with a girl who I met at a club after the Diddy party last week, and we are having a good time. We have a lot of insignificant things in common, which makes conversation and rapport quite easy. However she is still messed up over her ex of four years, she freely admits that she cheats on her men, she snorts coke, and she wanted me to pay the tab – after she called her friend to meet up with her once we were done. While I didn’t smack her across the face, my verbal pimp hand was strong. Then she said, “Come on; just cover an extra five bucks – you should pay for the pleasure of my company!” I know I am a sick asshole sometimes, but what the hell does that sound like to you?

Here is the deal – I never give to strange women what I make my friends earn. That’s food, drinks, shots, cuts in line, whatever. In the last 12 months more women have bought me alcohol than the other way around – and those few latter instances generally involved the bonin’. The quickest way to turn me into cheap bastard or Supreme Pimp Coletrain Luthor is to beg for free drinks. But if you are a cool girl and you want to hang out with me – buy me a drink, and at the very least I won’t make fun of you too much.

Category:

• Sex
• Society
• Relationships