It has been three weeks now. You are almost blowing up from want and need. She has had an attitude and, since you are a serial one-woman man, there is nowhere to turn to. What to do? If you stay stubborn, you might be so starved that you could soon bang a tree! If you capitulate, you open yourself up to all kinds of demands and risks. Let us say you do say the three abused words, here then go the narrative.
“Yes, I love you, angel!” you say trying to keep your voice as sincere as you can.
“Show it” she demands. Now it is getting weird. Don’t you panic, my boy. Don’t even think you showed it to her the other day! In the strange world of women since Eve, it was you who had it good—you got lucky!
Some dudes come up with all kinds of gimmicks—flowers, night on the town, or some expensive gifts. That is baloney. The damsel will just despise you behind your back. In reality you are attempting to bribe her the way some parents bribe out-of-control kids.
In fact you are like those male birds which build nests and decorate them to lure potential mates. Or just like some which grow bright plumage in their rear ends and prance about to do the same.
My brother, you are of the lion genre. You got that she-gazelle because of your almost intimidating mane which in the blink of a second—courtesy of thousands of years of evolution in keeping with the perpetuation of the species—she concluded you were the one.
When in doubt you go on the offensive. You get on the freeway and cruise across town.
At your sight she will melt. Now, it is up to you.
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