Take it from Snee: The Wingman’s Guide

When I was younger and singler, I was a horrible wingman. I was selfish, belligerent and often too drunk to even speak human language. None of my friends ever got laid on my behalf, so it’s amazing I even had any.

Now that I’m married, though, my choices are to either:

1. cheat on my wife.
2. live vicariously through my friends.

Since I’m freshly out of debt, I’d rather not finance an ex-wife and date again, so I opt for number 2. What I’ve learned is that it’s easy to be a great wingman, if you have a little inside knowledge on how some women work. Fortunately, I have one around the apartment and have used this experience to create The Wingman’s Guide.

The good ones are taken … or gay.

One of the biggest mistakes single guys make is using their skeevy, single, drunk friend as a wingman. While the American legal system protects citizens from guilt by association, women are Dick Cheney and don’t care about your clean criminal record before waterboarding.

Unattainable wingmen, therefore, are perfect character witnesses — as long as the woman in question doesn’t have self-esteem issues that drive her into unfulfilling relationships with married men or nonexistent ones with gay men.

So, if you’re not gay or married,* it’s time to pick which one you’re going to be for the night. There’s nothing wrong with putting on a fake wedding band at the bar; women have been doing it for years.

“But enough about me, let’s talk about him.”

The best wingmen have always been able tell a good story. In the medieval days, they were known as chroniclers and traveled with their liege, totally bragging about their exploits so the guy in the armor would look modest.

Unfortunately, this fell out of style around the 1960s when JFK wrote his own book about his own damn courage in WWII and subsequently nailed Marilyn Monroe. Suddenly, black was white, up was down and CIA sleeping pill cocktails were the new morning-after pill.

But, this is a new generation that’s laughed at the remaining Kennedys too much for them to be role models anymore. Women like accomplished — or at least competent — men who don’t need to brag about it.

Which is good, because men are better at lying and exaggerating claims about other men than about themselves; so it’s win-win.

If he lent you a razor, you say he saved your life. If he once got you out of a fight, you say he saved your life when a bear tried to maul you. If he loaned you a $20, you say he fixed your tax problem with the IRS … therefore, saving your ass from prison.

The best approach is, whenever she asks about you, to preface the story with, “Well, this one time Bill (Have you met Bill?) and I were in a Tijuana prison …”

Stay on his six to counter enemy fire.

(That was the only Top Gun reference I’m making in this article. You’re welcome.)

Women generally don’t go to bars alone. It’s socially awkward, which makes it an automatic guy thing like chest hair and assault rifles.

But, the only thing they hate more than going to the bar alone is going home alone afterwards, and they will do anything to prevent doing so.

This brings up the namesake of the term “wingman.” Your friend is in front, looking awesome while wasting tax dollars on expensive warheads. You stay behind to make sure that cockblocking Mig doesn’t kill him.

Which means that you are to absorb (maybe even deflect) all of the scorn, derision and spinning ax kicks that this young woman’s friend or husband is throwing at your friend while he stays on target. If you leave, your friend dies.**

If necessary, you may even need to draw her ire onto you with taunts, what gamers call “picking up agro.”

This is a little more complicated because you don’t want to insult the woman your friend is trying to impress. Basically, you’ll have to prescript responses so that your friend can chastise you, improving his own odds and neutralizing, if not winning over, the cockblocker. (This will not work with a cockblocking husband. Jerks.)

Set realistic expectations for the evening.

Look, chances are pretty good that your friend isn’t getting laid tonight. If that’s your goal, I have only one thing to say to that:

This ain’t the damn early-2000s. We’re in a goddamn recession. He doesn’t get to swim in tits and towel off with $100 bills anymore. Nobody does. It takes college graduates two years to get an entry-level job. What makes him think he’s going to get a blo–

Breathing exercises. Breeeeeeeathing exeeeeeeeercises.

Your role as wingman is to set up playdates between consenting adults who are going to do it. (This is why I’m not allowed to have children.)  A phone number is an excellent end to an evening, and even better if it’s her real number.

*”In a long-term relationship” works about as well in wingmanning as it does in your long-term relationship: not at all.

**No, really. I heard there was this guy who needed to have sex, and he was totally going to but it didn’t happen, and he died.