Playing by The
by Mad Dog
We all must have done something terribly,
horribly, unspeakably evil in our prior lives. For as if the Macarena wasnt
punishment enough for living in the 90s, now we have to put up with hearing all
about a best selling book which purports to tell women everything they need to know in
order to catch a man. Right. Like catching a man is a big deal. Look, if you want to catch
something you can really brag about, try landing a 900 lb. marlin. Or the Loch Ness
monster. Then Ill be impressed. But a man? Pshaw! Were easy.
The book is called "The Rules:
Time-tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right" and it consists of little
more than thirty-five supposedly unbreakable rules that will help you nab a fine specimen
of a husband with whom you can spend the rest of your life in complete bliss.
For this you need thirty-five rules? Come
on! If God figured ten commandments was all we needed to live our lives correctly why the
heck should it take twenty more to catch a measly husband? Its not like men are that
complex. Were simple creatures, really. Give us a TV, a bowl of popcorn, a beer and
a Sylvester Stallone movie and we wont move an inch. Keep it flowing and were
yours for life.
Before going any further, let me state for
the record that Im extremely qualified to be discussing this subject, seeing as how
Im male, Im single, and I like women. But the idea that single women all
across the country are sitting around the house memorizing a set of rules designed to lure
me into marrying them is very unnerving. Especially since the rules almost uniformly set
my teeth on edge.
- Dont call a man.
(Why should you? Its much more fun to be upset at him because he didnt call
- Dont make yourself
available every time he calls. (Wouldnt you rather sit at home and
watch reruns of the Donna Reed Show by yourself? Of course you would! What better role
model is there?)
- Never accept a Saturday night
date after Wednesday. (See above.)
- Dont discuss The Rules
with your therapist. (What? No one needing these rules could possibly need a
therapist, could they?)
The problem is, the very act of using these
rules means theyre destined to become self-fulfilling prophecies. Saying "Any
man who doesnt play by these arbitrary rules isnt good enough to marry
me" automatically weeds outyou guessed it!anyone who doesnt play by
these rules. Hell, if you really want to set your sights high, why not add rules like
"He has to be worth over $100 million dollars", "He has to look like George
Clooney", and "He has to do only what I want to do, when I want to do it, and
how I want to do it"? Then youll find yourself a real catch.
As rules go these are actually pretty lame.
In Mogadishu, Somalia all men have to grow beards. In Iran, unmarried men and women are
forbidden to socialize. But the real difference isnt in the harshness of the rules,
its in the punishment. Over here if you dont follow The Rules you wont
find a good husband. Over there if you dont follow the rules theyll chop off
your right hand. Then see how easy it will be to find a good husband.
Heres something to think about: Maybe
the men you meet arent being turned off because youre playing the game wrong
and arent playing hard to get, maybe its the fact that youre so
desperate to find a man that you have to buy stupid books like this one and follow its
silly ass rules like theyre the gospel thats making men run away. Hey, even
dogs smell fear.
But I dont want to be unconstructive
about this. You want dating rules? Ill give you dating rules.
1. Be yourself.
2. Let him be himself.
3. Throw away your self-help books.
4. Draw a moustache on Ann Landers photograph. But
whatever you do, dont read her column.
5. If you wake up, dont smell the coffee. If you
smell the coffee, go back to sleep.
6. Dont date anyone whos been engaged more
times than your shoe size.
7. If youre not having fun, go home.
8. If youre not having fun at home, go out.
9. Take your copy of The Rules and give it to someone who really
needs it. Like your local recycler.
10. Dont listen to a word I say. Hey, what the hell
do I know?
©1997 Mad Dog Productions, Inc. All
These columns appear in better newspapers across the country.
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