I was Hideki’s loyal Wingman.
He would drag me to some social outing, identify an attractive female, and have me initiate a conversation with her. Women are less defensive when approached by another female.
After a few minutes, Hideki would wander over, join the conversation, and if things were going well, I would excuse myself to go to the bathroom. At this point, Hideki would tell his new female companion that I was actually a drug-addicted lesbian, and that he was acting as my steward for the evening to ensure that nothing bad happened to me.
“She’s probably in the bathroom doing bumps as we speak,” he would shake his head tragically. Sometimes he would also tell her that I was his mentally disabled cousin, in hopes of drawing even more sympathy.
Touched by Hideki’s altruism and spurred by the challenge of luring him away from his charge, the female would invariably urge him to ditch me at the bar. Feigning reluctance, Hideki would then leave and hook up with her.
I was a good Wingman. Coupled with Hideki’s low standards, we had a very high success rate. But Hideki eventually got married and settled down, and my services were retired.
A good Wingman is hard to find. That’s why we created Poca Bear. Best of all, Poca Bear won’t embarrass you in front of your coworkers at the company Christmas party, or throw up three times in your new car, or pull into your driveway drunk and knock over your mailbox.
Everybody needs a Wingman. Where’s yours?