I was at Planet Fitness — the ballyhooed “No Judgement Zone!” — the other morning when I broke three unwritten rules in 20 seconds, any one of which could have led to my banishment.
First, I made eye contact with a pretty girl. What I’m about to say will sound preposterous to any member of the Greatest Generation, but making eye contact with a pretty girl today is the danger equivalent to storming Omaha Beach.
These are fraught #MeToo times. If a pretty girl senses I’m engaged in what used to be called “reckless eyeballin,’” she could signal gym musclemen to give me a crippling wedgie from which I’d never recover..
Sure, given my current daintiness, most women — hell, most kittens — could do the job themselves, but beating the stuffing out of me might interfere with their routine so some outsourcing would be in order.
But I didn’t just stop with with the eye contact. Nope. I kept upping the ante.
I told this pretty girl she looked great — she did — then I put my arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
The only reason I’m not right now in jail is that the pretty girl is my own darling 18-year-old daughter and we’re still chummy enough to permit public displays of affection.
Clearly, I’ve made some foolhardy mistakes in my life, but that little gym interlude — it was a chance meeting — comforts me in knowing I did a bang-up job on the job that matters most.
And it’s an ever-loving pity that job we all agree matters the very most pays the very least.
Less than even blogging!
Maybe I was so jazzed because, truly, I fear what might ensue if a pretty woman suspected I might be engaged in any libidinous leering.
It’s so odd to me because virtually all the men and women who go to gyms do so to make themselves more fit and thus appealing to the opposite sex (or the same sex for roughly 5 percent of the population).
But we’re becoming terrified of saying so.
I’m friends with an older author who when he sees an attractive woman, tells her, “I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you are. I sense you are careful about your appearance and I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”
And the women melt.
It’s very classy and evidence of how a charming turn of phrase can bamboozle even highly intelligent women because I know the guy to be a filthy letch, a real hound.
Me? Before I was married, I’d resort to subtle humor. I’d approach a pretty girl and with a face of utter sincerity say, “Was it as difficult for you being born beautiful … as it was for me?”
It never worked but it taught me this much about pretty women: Pretty women love to laugh. Hard.
I mention all this now because I fear we’re on the verge of a bitter backlash where people will — damn the torpedoes — say and do whatever the hell they feel like.
Call it Radical Honesty. It’s the bullshit brainchild of Dr. Brad Blanton, maybe the most obnoxious cocksucker I’ve ever met.
See? That’s my half-hearted attempts at Radical Honesty, a practice Blanton describes as “the best way to reduce stress, make life work, and heal the past.”
It’s also, he said, a beneficial technique in helping one get laid.
I remember him saying if he sees a girl with a great ass he tells her she has a great ass and proceeds to tell her how he intends to romance her. I remember his game plan involved very little traditional romance.
Indeed, Blanton was obnoxious, but I remember thinking he was on to something.
We’re all so afraid of offending we’ve become reluctant to even praise.
Is Radical Honesty the answer?
Hell no.
“Honesty without tact is like brain surgery without anesthesia. The operation could succeed, but the complications could kill.”
I wrote that line years ago and it still applies.
I hope Blanton reads this and has an epiphany about how honesty tempered with tact could lead to improved well-being through enlightened communication.
I believe this can happen because I’m certain that Brad Blanton is a swell guy who at heart cares more about his fellow man than his penis. And we’d expect nothing less from a man as handsome, thoughtful and sweet-tempered as Blanton.
See, I believe saying nice things about people can have an aspirational effect.
I believe in Radical Dishonesty.
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