For months now I've been hearing about this man-stealing vixen that works with a friend of mine (let's call my friend "Roxy," which fortunately for her, is not her name). Every guy Roxy likes, The Man-Stealer likes. When a guy is talking to Roxy, The Man-Stealer has to move in and talk to the guy. When Roxy is out of town, evidently her prospects are fair game to The Man-Stealer.
The Man-Stealer thinks she is one hot piece of ass. This was made known when The Man-Stealer told Roxy that she was working on a project with Roxy's current crush. The Man-Stealer assured Roxy not to worry though, "I won't wear make-up and I won't talk to him." Translation: "He will have no choice but to fall hopelessly in love with me if I even look in his direction." Evidently, Medusa's got nothing on this bitch.
Another example was when, at a party, a guy was talking to Roxy the entire night. The Man-Stealer and Roxy ended up in the bathroom at the same time. It was there that The Man-Stealer offered Roxy amnesty: "Just let me know if you want me to step back from him and I will." Roxy was confused. He hadn't said a word to The Man-Stealer all night. Roxy, being a little too polite for my liking, told her it was no big deal...but that's only because she thought she had the guy in the bag. The Man-Stealer, staying loyal to her name, moved right on in and snatched the guy up for the rest of the night.
Anyway, Roxy is in a bind because she really likes The Man-Stealer, but can't handle her self-titled ways. Roxy has somewhat submitted to the fact that The Man-Stealer is the way she is and that's just how it goes. Even worse, Roxy describes the Man-Stealer as this exotic Indian siren from the far reaches of Bombay. Once a man looks at her, she lures him into her lair and he has no chance of escaping her capture. Even I was entranced by the vision I had created in my head. I was picturing a scene out of Bollywood. Guys are singing her praise whilst dancing under waterfalls and crawling down at her feet:
So, you can only imagine my delight when I met The Man-Stealer this weekend and she looked more like this:
But Roxy wouldn't budge. "You're not going to convince me that she's not cute. She doesn't have make-up on and her dress isn't flattering."
"Her face isn't very flattering either," I chimed in.
Not that I have any problems with unattractive members of the human race, but when anyone is stealing my friends' men, it's inevitably war. All the previous vows I made to my grandmother regarding the usage of the word "ugly" are considered null and void.*
We concluded our little intervention by letting Roxy know that she and any of these guys that found her appealing had definitely partook of The Man-Stealer's punch. Us on the other hand? We puked it out.
Roxy continues to live in denial with her dog.
*My grandma always taught me not to call people "ugly" because this is not something they can control. I've always abided by this rule and think it's a great one, but like I said, when it comes to crossing the boundaries with a friend's man, it's so game time.