Tim Allen - Don't Stand Too Close to a Naked Man

The alternative was to be caught in her closet at night wearing a penguin suit, and to try to convince her that I was really one of her stuffed animals, and would she take me to bed because I had been in the closet a long, long time, and I was very lonely. That's always a hard one to sell, and, regardless of the outcome, you're still out the cash for the penguin suit.

As I look back, it was probably a good thing I always chickened out because I'd kept my obsession bottled up for so long that I would have blurted out everything I'd been thinking for a year, things a casual stranger shouldn't know.

"I love your car, your house, and, by the way, where did you get those crystal doves on your dressing table?"

- -

Eventually you find a woman you want to date. Now comes the hard part. What's the proper attitude to take?

If what you're after is a woman's undivided attention, give her none. You can wait out any woman. Don't make any moves. Don't show your hand.

On the other hand, you can give a woman too much.

I once tried just laying my cards on the table. I went to a club, saw a woman, and walked right up and told her what I wanted. I'd been reading The Hite Report and was eager to test out all I'd learned. She was speechless, and I figured I'd blown my chance. But then she said, to my total surprise, "No one's ever come on to me like that. Let's go to my place."

We made love. We made love again. We ate Mexican‑style TV dinners. We slept fitfully. Two nights later she took me to her parents' house for dinner. I should have seen the signs. Because of my audacious approach the poor woman thought I was hopelessly in love with her and ready to pop the question. I was scared to death. Her father was really, really big.

The only question I wanted to pop was "Is there a back door?"

- -

When a guy thinks he's going to get lucky, euphoria sets in. Then he wants to stay at the party, get drunk with his buddies, and see who else falls prey to his immeasurable charm.

Unfortunately, being so self‑centered and greedy often causes

a guy to miss his opportunities. His intended gets drunk, too, and instead of going when the going is good, he waits too long and then her mood takes a turn.

This is more commonly known as a woman changing her mind.

How a woman changes her mind is very difficult to understand. All I know is that it happens at the speed of light, without warning, and that unlike men-who wouldn't have the nerve to try this unsupervised-women have an absolute right to change their minds. A man must respect it, no matter how swollen his glands have become.

"But, Sherry, baby, you said this is what you wanted."

"Well, that's not what I want now. That's what I wanted a little bit ago, but it's not what I want now."

It's all timing with a woman.

"But we already made an agreement. I'm already in lovemaking mode. I can't stop now. And you're obviously excited and. ."

"No, I'm going home."

"You can't go home."

And now you're begging, which is so very attractive. Once you beg you've lost her respect, and you'll never get any. Once you're begging you're in puppy‑dog mode, and the last thing you will get is the bone. That's why it's good if a girl has roommates. Better odds.

Some guys think they're getting lucky when a woman tells him she wants them to sleep together. Usually, when a woman is this straightforward, a distressing surprise is just around the corner.

"When I said I wanted us to sleep together, I meant really sleep ."

Another sentence from hell.

I tried "just sleeping" with a woman once, but it didn't work. We did not sleep. She slept. I was awake. Staring at the ceiling. Counting the holes in the acoustic tile. After some heavy making out and what I thought was an ironclad agreement to have sex, I couldn't stop wondering what she suddenly meant by, "I think our friendship is worth too much for this."

This used to happen to me all the time. But I only said it to one woman, who, believe it or not, is still a friend of mine. We wanted to fool around, but I realized that the question wasn't whether or not I wanted to sleep with her, but whether or not I wanted to wake up with her. I know this because she asked me the question. Women. . what can I tell you? Difficult as it was, I told her the truth. Seeing her in the morning would have been uncomfortable. And I'd have had to kill her. Fingerprints, murder weapon, details, planning, decisions. Just not worth it.

- -

Women are always asking men, "How do I look in this?"

Any answer will be the wrong answer, especially no answer. Silence is truly deadly. When you hear the question, it's already too late to run away. The guillotine has dropped, and your head is already in the basket.

I have a question: Do women really think men can say something they'll want to hear? Or is this question analogous to boys' pulling legs off spiders? That said, try to say something nice. Deep down, women will appreciate that you're at least paying attention.

Visual tip: Before answering, tilt your head slightly to one side, take a deep breath in through your nose, and as you let it out, let a sigh slowly transform into a warm smile. The results are amazing, and often overshadow any words you might mumble. Be sure to first practice this in the mirror. Avoid the classic quizzical dog‑head tilt at all costs.

I once watched a relationship end because the guy didn't understand this. His girlfriend came out of the bedroom wearing an incredible red cashmere sweater. Her hair was magnificent. She was so lovely I almost fell down. They say women dress for themselves, but clearly she was trying to impress him. But this guy just looked at her and said, "You got any beer?"

The look on her face. Her spirits just plummeted. She didn't even ask how she looked.

"You look really great," I said, stepping up to the plate. Sensitive man that I am, I had spotted the problem immediately and wanted to cheer her up. My reward was a gorgeous smile, half a lip lick, and eyes that looked at me in a new way. Later, when she'd finally dumped her putz boyfriend, she asked me straight out if I wanted to sleep with her.

I declined. I wasn't going to fall for that routine.

Besides, do you realize how many holes are in an eleven‑by‑twelve acoustic‑tile ceiling? Three million two hundred thousand six hundred and twenty‑eight.

She insisted. I resisted. She demanded. I gave in.

Do you know there are really three million two hundred thousand six hundred and twenty‑nine holes in an acoustic ceiling?

Sadly, I've probably ignored how my wife dresses a million times without thinking about it. So now I try to remember that when fm thinking she's pretty I should tell her she's pretty. Guys, don't be lazy about that. If she looks wonderful right now, say, "You look wonderful right now." But be careful, because she's liable to say, "Right now? What the hell does that mean?"

Another rule to remember is never comment on a woman's rear end. Never. Never use the word "large" or "size" with "rear end." Never. Just avoid the area altogether. Trust me. What are you going to say?

"Your butt looks good in those pants."

"Why, is it tight?"

"Yeah."

"So it's big?"

"No, it's just I like the way it looks in those pants."

"Meaning you didn't like it yesterday because it was bigger in those other pants?"

Women always think their rear ends are too big. You can depend on that like you can depend on the morning chubby. There's nothing you can say about a woman's butt that doesn't make her suspicious. There are many theories why, but I'm certain it's because the derriere is a woman's weakest area. She can't powder it. She can't use concealer. It's actually too far away to reach. She can't really see it well, from any angle. It's something they can't control, and they like controlling everything that has anything to do with their appearance.