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 Tag: Lace Collar The evening was winding down, and the date-night couple was glancing

nervously at the clock, hoping for a few more minutes of alone time. The manager of another

restaurant was scribbling notes on a legal pad between sips of red wine, knowing that if he

sat in his own restaurant, his staff would assume he was there for their convenience and

would interrupt his scribbling. Three men were left, equidistant from each other at a bar

that 40 minutes before had been full. At 9:30 on a Tuesday night in the suburbs, you might

as well roll up the streets."Are you going to watch the rest of the Triple Crown?" one of

the men announced to no one in particular. The other men looked at me."I'm not much into

horse racing," I said. "It always seems so distant and detached."As I wiped up midweek crowd

debris, I remembered another Tuesday night and another three gentlemen. I also remembered a

race that was a bit more personal.The two fillies had stepped up to the starting gate. The

athletic blonde I recognized, the equally fit redhead I didn't."It's Girls' Night Out," said

the blonde, hanging up her midriff-baring denim jacket.It was if someone had fired a

starting gun.Along the inside came Manwithmoneybutlittlepersonality; he asked if he could

buy the women a drink before they sat down. In less than five minutes he had laid out his

portfolio: house in town, Tahoe time-share, monthly trips to everywhere trendy. He took a

breath, and in that instant Goodlookingtoafault had edged him out.Positioning himself to,

presumably, his good side, Goodlookingtoafault flattered the women with compliments, from

subtle to gross. It wasn't long before he mentioned some modeling he had done as a lad and a

decades-old B-movie actress he had dated.The ladies seemed to be eating it up. Anyone who

says women aren't swayed by looks should have been there.Suddenly,

Overcompensatingloudtalker boomed out an invitation for the ladies to join him at his table,

in a manner indicating that they should feel privileged to do so. They clearly felt

differently and he was out of the race immediately.Manwithmoney kicked for the lead,

ordering a bottle of wine for the ladies without consulting either one. They thanked him but

positioned themselves with backs squarely to him, angled slightly toward

Goodlookingtoafault.Goodlooking saw his chance. Slicking his slightly graying Johnny Depp-

inspired bangs to one side, he leaned over and touched the redhead's hand."Are you ladies

from around here?" he said, lowering his head so his baby blues would have the maximum

effect.She recoiled. Too much contact, far too soon. I could almost hear her Creepy Stalker

alarm going off.Meanwhile, Overcompensating had clued into his backmarker position and took

a different tack. If the women weren't interested in him, there was something wrong with

them. It was pure projection at its best. He began a series of thinly concealed insults,

starting with inappropriate comments about sexual orientation. At least, until the manager

appeared at his table.Manwithmoney tried to edge out Goodlooking."Would you ladies like

something to eat?" he said, waving his hand at me with a maitre'd-like urgency."I like the

(insert most expensive thing on the menu)," he said proudly.It was Goodlooking's turn. "You

sure are pretty," he offered clumsily. He tried a little physical contact, this time with

the blonde. Same result.Manwithmoney mentioned his car and his house. Again.Goodlooking

offered a less clumsy delivered, but no less transparent, compliment. Was he talking to them

or speaking about himself? It was increasingly difficult to tell.Back and forth it

went.Manwithmoney éGoodlooking éManwithmoney éGoodlooking éNeck and neck until -

Overcompensating couldn't contain himself. He voiced one more comment, which led to a brief,

stern conversation with the manager and an abrupt departure."We've got to go," said the

ladies pushing back from the bar, carefully avoiding contact with Goodlooking."Thanks for

the wine," they said in unison to Manwithmoney, leaving the two front-runners breathless and

bewildered.Almost on cue, the women stopped near the door and looked back at the men left on

the track. The blonde reached for the redhead and, holding her gently by the back of the

neck, kissed her slowly and deeply.Girls' Night Out indeed.That evening left me with four

thoughts, some of which seem particularly relevant during the Triple Crown season:1. Know

the rules of the race before you run it.2. Nobody remembers who places second or third in

horse racing (or dating) unless something drastic happens. Witness this year's derby and

Overcompensating's hasty exit.3. Inappropriate comments, no matter how accurate, are always

a good way to get thrown out of a bar.4. Whenever fillies and stallions run in the same

race, it often leaves the spectators confused, not to mention the participants.