Back to Love Basics 4, Friends First

There are the naive few who believe that the way to climb Mt. Everest is to simply by an airline ticket to Nepal, some equipment, and set off to climb the world’s tallest peak, in spite of the fact that they can’t climb the stairs to their bedroom without pausing to catch their breath.

In early years, I was one of the naive minds who took the same approach to building loving relationships.

Consider my first attempt at landing a date-

After years of angst and hours in front of the mirror practicing my technique while trying to cover up uncontrollable acne, I finally got up the nerve to ask Julie out. Seriously hot, Julie had sat in front of me in homeroom for more than two years without me ever saying more than a shy “hello.”

She was standing in front of her locker when I came up beside her.

Julie turned and looked at me.

There was an awkward silence.

She smiled, “Can I help you?”

Stammer. Stutter. Blurt, “Will you go out with me!”

Her smile grew bigger. Either she thought this was a joke or she decided to humor my sweaty neediness.

“Sure,” she said calmly,and added, “what are we going to do?” as she turned to put her books in the locker.

There was a clatter as I feinted against the nearby lockers. An affirmative response had not been anticipated.

Startled by her suitor’s sudden swoon, Julie turned and asked, “are you okay?”

Obviously not, as my many practice scenes in front of the mirror had not included any happy endings.

Another nervous pause.

Longer pause.

Finally, an inspiration popped to mind.

My mouth opened, “and I spoke, “the fish are running. Let’s go to the hatchery and watch them strip eggs.”

There was a loud crash as Julie’s books fell to the floor, followed by resounding echoes of hysterical laughter.

“Are you for real?” she questioned, unable to contain her mirth as I scurried to pick up her books, which I handed to her and then vanished into social reclusion.

Okay. That didn’t turn out as hoped for. It took many months of counseling sessions with my dog, Homer, and many more sessions in front of the mirror, not to mention many more tubes of acne cream, before I finally came up with a date pitch that worked.

I think the winning line was, “Wanna go midnight bowling?”

Although the exact words fail me, I do remember the ensuing experience, painfully etched into the failed relationship files in my mind.

It started out well enough. We walked into the bowling alley, I paid for shoes and drinks, and we claimed our lane. Tina, or maybe it was Shawna, I’ve a tendency to erase negative memories as soon as possible, seemed quite comfortable with the game. I carefully studied her form, and then her bowling technique, noticing she’d already thrown six strikes to my similar number of gutter balls. At this point, she also threw a gutter ball, perhaps a touch of pity coming over her when she looked at the score.

Tina returned to her seat and began to sip her drink. I picked up my ball and turned to face my pins.

Suddenly, bolstered by caffeinated Coke courage, I spun around, bowling ball gripped tightly in both hands, and blurted out, “will you marry me?”

Tina continued to sip her Coke, staring at me, a blank expression in her eyes.

I anxiously repeated my request, “Will you marry me?”

This time there was a response. She dropped the Coke. It fell to the floor and exploded all over my yellow and pink bowling shoes. I dropped the bowling ball as I stared down at the brown liquid chaos. I watched the large black ball fall in slow motion towards my unsuspecting toes.

“Owwww!!!” Again, the exact word escapes me as have most painful relationship memories.

As I danced in agony, the ball rolled into the gutter. another scoreless night as Tina’s bright red hair exited the premises.

Okay. That didn’t work so well either.

Neither did numerous subsequent efforts. Keep in mind that the emotional turmoil that resulted from these failures took months to recover from, and many more counseling sessions with Homer, who is not only much cheaper than a psychologist, he also gives free face licks when he sees me lying despondent on the couch.

Yes, admittedly I’m a slow learner, especially when it concerns social matters. However, to my credit, eventually I did figure out something important.

It is much better to have great friends than to have occasional great sex. Good friends I look forward to seeing again and again. I can’t say as much for some sex partners, although I’m sure those partners couldn’t say much good about me.

I adopted a new dating and relationship strategy. Friends first. I decided that the intimacy I really wanted, that feeling of closeness and security was only possible by building friendship, a process that takes time and commitment. Friendship is not a one night stand. Yes, the bliss of sexual pleasure is alluring, but is often a momentary illusion, a glimpse of something grander. But that something is only possible with dedication to building a mutually rewarding relationship.

May I suggest that if you’re intent on climbing the Mt. Everest of Love, start with “Friends First.”

I don’t expect anyone, especially those youthful in years and filled with love fantasies and raging hormones, to pay much attention to my advice. Each of us must find our own way in life,but I hope you take the time to seriously consider the true value of friendship.

If there is someone special you’d like to be involved with, start with friendship first. If this works and the two of you become respectful, trusting, and supportive of each other, new doorways will open.

Friends first, because if you can’t be friends, why bother?.

Tio Stib Signature

Looking for more Love and Relationship Help? Get “Remedies for Reluctant Romantics, 100 Ways to Win the Love Game” FREE when you sign up for my newsletter. Subscribe with the widget on the right side of my blog.

You might also enjoy: Starting Over Again, Back to Love Basics; Back to Love Basics 3, Give the Love You Want

Back to Love Basics 3, Leap for Love!

Yes, it’s February 29, an extra day because it’s a Leap Year, So do something special today.
Leap for Love!

bc_FRONT_1.15.08

Love is not likely to find you if you’re not looking and leaping for it.
Leap for Love in 2016!

Tio Stib Signature

You might also enjoy: Starting Over Again, Back to Love Basics, Back to Love Basics 2, Give the Love You Want

Back to Love Basics 2, Give the Love You Want

Are you smiling? Just checking to see if you read my previous post about loving yourself and learning how to dribble the Love Ball.

Remember, it’s all about smiling.

Assuming you’ve done you’re Back to Love Basics homework, let’s move on to Lesson 2, “Give the Love You Want.”

Let;s consider how Frank is currently dealing with his loveless reality-

Frank, entering the coffee shop, notes that his favorite server, Coffee Girl, is at the counter and silently falls in line, immediately behind a sweet little lady who smiles at him.

Frank stares blankly back at her.

Two guys about Frank’s age come up behind him, talking about last night’s basketball game which the home team lost on a last second missed
shot..
‘Can you believe a guy who makes a million a year missed a simple layup,” says one of the guys.

Frank, who had watched the game, was similarly incensed but says nothing.

Suddenly, Frank is standing at the counter in front of Coffee Girl, an attractive young woman who he has had a crush on for weeks.

He stammers, then blurts out, “double espresso.”

“Double expresso coming up,” says Coffee Girl with a smile, and takes Frank’s money.

She hands Frank his change and leaves him with “Have a great day!”

Heartbroken that his secret crush did not invite him to dinner, Frank sulks over to the pickup counter.

Does any of this sound familiar? This situation is not gender specific. Frank might be Francesca. Coffee Girl might be Coffee Guy, or any number of possibilities. The point is someone who wants love,perhaps someone like you, is stammering at the service counter.

What might Frank have done differently to change the outcome here?

First, let’s get clear about what Frank and millions of lonely love wannabes really want. Frank thinks he wants an intimate loving relationship in is life, and he’d really like it to be with the darling Coffee Girl. The problem is that Frank has got his “wants” mixed up with his “needs.”

Sure, I’d like to have a brand new Porsche to rod around in. No mind that I’m blind but it sounds great doesn’t it.

The Porsche may be what I want, but what I really need is dependable transportation. Frank may want the fantasy relationship with Coffee Girl but what he really needs is more loving attention in his life.

Here’s how Frank could have got what he “needed”-

First, when the sweet little lady smiled at him, all he had to do was smile back. He might even have said, “Good morning.”

I guarantee her smile would have broadened and she have ans

I guarantee the lady would have smiled even more and probably answered him with another “Good morning to you.”

A small thing, but this interaction would have left Frank feeling good.

And how about the two guys behind him? Frank could have said, “Yeah, I saw that game. What a putz, he should have to pay a day’s salary for that miss.”

From this, Frank would have gotten the momentary camaraderie of three guys reliving a flash of vicarious outrage.

Again, not a big thing, but Frank would have felt good for having connected with other beings who shared a common life interest.

Then, there is the moment with Coffee Girl. Frank simply sates his order, nothing more. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t greet the young woman.

Nothing but, “Double espresso.”

What if Frank simply said, “Hi! How are you today?”

Coffee girl would probably answer, “Great, thanks! How can I help you?”

Then Frank puts out his “double espresso, please!” with a little gusto.

For a smile and a few words, Frank actually gets to connect with Coffee Girl. No, she’s not going to marry him just yet, but I’m sure Frank would feel hugely better for having this encounter at the counter.

What is the lesson from Frank’s experience and, to be sure, the experiences of millions of other folks like him seeking love in the world?

Give the Love you want.

That’s it. If you want people to pay attention to you in positive ways, pay attention to them first.

Smile at people and they will, most often, smile back.

Greet people and they will, most often, greet you back.

Reinforce what someone else says and, most often, they will welcome your support.

If you want love in your life, give it first.

Please note that I believe the best way to do this is to love everyone around you, from the little ladies in line to the grumpy old farts who live next door. The more you open up and give love, the easier it is to open up and give love to someone you might be afraid of, like Coffee Girl.

What happens if someone chooses not to respond to your gracious outpourings? Move on. Some folks just are not going to have a good day no matter what. Keep smiling. Keep putting Love out there. You’ll feel much better for the effort.

Okay, time for this week’s “Back to Love Basics” homework-

For the next 7 days, give the Love you want. Make an effort to communicate in a positive way with everyone you meet. yes, last week you smiled at everyone, especially yourself. Start with a smile, add a greeting, then perhaps even ask, “How are you today?”

If you really want to get things going, add a compliment with your greeting.

“Hello, my, what a beautiful hat!”

“Hi, what a great smile you have!”

“Wow! Where did you get that haircut? I’ve always wanted a Mohawk!”

I’m not giving you a number of times to do this, counting past 10 seems to have created difficulties for some. Rather, just make an honest effort.

Smile, greet, say something nice. Do it with Everyone from kids to seniors and, yes, of course, even Coffe Girl or Coffee Guy.

Keep dribbling that Love Ball team!

Tio Stib Signature

You might also enjoy : Starting Over Again, Back to Love Basics, A Mirrored Smile

Sophie’s Last Stand

I saw the post just before the ancient Land Rover plowed through it. I’d been distracted, yelling at people to get out of the way, while jamming my foot on the brakes that were not there. I suppose that the fact the Rover was going backwards added to the confusion. Unable to find another usable gear that morning, I’d decided to drive the old wreck down to Sophie’s Stand in reverse. Yes, Sam had mentioned there were no brakes because the Rover never went fast enough to need them. If you wanted to stop, just take your foot off the gas and let the beast roll to a halt. However, this logic did not include the small downhill dip I encountered approaching the stand. In addition, Sam neglected to say that the steering gearbox was stripped, resulting in multiple spins of the wheel before the Rover began the slightest turn. Between driving backwards, stomping on non-existent brakes, madly turning a wheel that wasn’t connected to anything, and screaming my head off, I hadn’t noticed the onrushing post.

Crash!

Maddy, Sam’s affectionate name for the Rover, origin unknown, annihilated the helpless post and proceeded unabashed as calamity erupted behind me, or, perhaps more correctly said, in front of me, as I’d been traveling backwards. Vehicle and driver, admittedly a gracious label for my role in this disaster, stopped abruptly when confronted by a wall of unyielding cacti, slamming me against the steering wheel. A burst of steam blew out from under the hood and Maddy’s motor coughed twice and died.

Dazed, I felt my body gently shake. One eye opened and looked left to see a head of frizzy white hair and beard glowing in bright light.

“You alive boy?” said the talking head.

“of course not, you old fart,” I heard my mind say, quickly losing respect for Saint Peter. Then I heard another thought, “shut up fool, it could be that other guy welcoming you.”

“Boy?” said the old, browned face as kind arms shook me.

Damn, I thought, recognizing Sam, now aware that I had a lot of explaining to do.

Kaboom!

My head jerked round to source the noise. Behind me, a cloud of dust rose sleepily up to the blue sky. The scene below, however, was anything but peaceful. It appeared a tornado had torn through the hut. Mangled fruit and vegetables and broken souvenirs were strewn amidst a pile of flattened building materials. What had once been Sophie’s Stand was now a roadside garbage dump.

In the midst of this chaos, only one thing still stood vertically. The sign, “Sophie’s Stand,” was newly planted in the pile of debris. Looking at me sideways, Sophie’s painted face smiled between the two words. Then, with a death shudder, the sign surrendered to gravity and slowly fell atop what had once been a thriving business. A wisp of dust spiraled heavenward.

“Jeez!” I whimpered, wondering how I could have done all that by merely knocking down one post.

“So sorry,” I heard myself mutter.

“It’s nothing, boy,” said Sam.

Nothing! I thought. Nothing! I’d just destroyed what had been Aunt Sophie’s life for over forty years. I pushed my face back into the steering wheel and cried.

“No problem son,” said Sam, his arm comforting my shoulders, “here, try this.”

I turned my head to see Sophie’s big, brown eyes looking at me. Her bright smile and curly black hair lit up the label of the bottle Sam held. “Sophie’s Best,” it proclaimed, and from all I’d heard, it was the best home made hooch in these parts. Folks were known to drive for hours to by her magic brew for it was rumored to cure everything from infertility to constipation.

I grabbed the bottle and took a deep gulp. What the hell, I thought, it was the least I could do for an Aunt whom I hadn’t managed to visit for nearly ten years and then missed her funeral. Now, to top off my sins, I’d destroyed Sophie’s stand.

I took another drink, my insides warming, my head beginning to disconnect from the disturbing reality surrounding me. Not bad, I thought, taking another swig of “Sophie’s Best,” as I was led to a plastic chair in the shade of a large palm tree.

Self pity soon dissolved into a drunken stupor and I found myself staring at an empty bottle. Raising it skyward I saluted. “Damn fine hooch Auntie!” I exclaimed.

Sam pulled a bent plastic chair beside me and plopped heavily onto the seat. He raised another bottle of “Sophie’s Best,” saying, “to Sophie,” then proceeded to drain nearly half the contents, before passing the bottle back.

A crowd of people had magically appeared and were combing the wreckage for anything salvageable. I started to say something about looting, but Sam spoke first.

“perhaps this is for the best,” he said, “Sophie always wanted to give everything away.”

“Maybe so,” I quickly added, pouring down more of Sophie’s elixir to drown my guilt.

“Sophie liked you,” said Sam, as I returned the bottle. “You’re the only city folk ever came to visit her.”

“That’s nice,” I answered, trying to convince myself that seeing her once in ten years was a good thing.

“We had a good life, me and Sophie,” reflected Sam, as we watched hands picking through the carnage.

I remembered the visit, years ago, when I’d first met Sam and Sophie, drawn by some unknown urge to know family, not to mention the need to escape town and an irate girl friend who’d just thrown me out of her apartment.

I took another drink and recalled looking up as she’d hurled my stuffed walrus down on me, prompting the thought that our relationship had lost its sparkle and I needed to move on.

Several buses and many miles later, I was dropped on an empty road in front of Sophie’s stand. A young girl arranging fruit looked up at me.

“Sophie?” I’d asked.

She pointed up the hill and I started walking, suddenly aware of fresh air, filling my lungs. I marveled at the flights and sounds of bright colored birds. Turning down a dirt path, I entered a green tunnel of branches and leaves. In the distance was a small cottage.

as I turned down a well trod dirt path covered high overhead by a canopy of vibrant green

A cloud of butterflies descended on me, floating, fluttering, circling, then drifting away as I entered a clearing. Nearby, a dozen trees hung heavy with ripe fruit. Beyond, a garden stretched in neat rows, filled with plants of all sizes. Watching over all this were two empty rocking chairs under the deep, shaded, cottage porch.

I heard singing and looked into the garden. There she was, bandana tied around her mop of black hair, bent over her plants, filling her apron with the joys of harvest.

“Aunt Sophie!” I cried out hopefully.

The singing stopped and the stout woman in the calico dress stood up and turned around. A smile exploded across her face.

“Lordy?” she blurted, dumping her bounty into a basket and rushing to embrace me.

Sophie had introduced me to Sam, her man. I never knew if they were married in the eyes of anyone but themselves and it didn’t seem to matter. What I did know was that they were partners, friends, and playmates. I could still feel the buzz I got just being around them and their zeal for life.

I took another belt of “Sophie’s Best” and smiled, yes, I thought, that was a great time. I passed the bottle to the old man sitting silent beside me.

“What do you think Sam?”

I turned to see a cluster of men behind us. Sam handed the closest man the bottle and looked them over as the hooch was passed from mouth to mouth. I found myself slightly miffed as I was really beginning to enjoy “Sophie’s Best” and didn’t feel like sharing, but decided that being the cause of the mess in front of us, I’d best be quiet.

“Well,” sighed Sam, “this was Sophie’s place to serve the world and now she’s gone. Seems it’s the stand’s time to go too.”

There were anxious looks between the men, throats cleared and feet shuffled in the dust.

After a long, awkward silence Sam realized the real issue at hand. He looked up and smiled at the men.

“Youall afraid I’m gonna stop making “Sophie’s Best,” he laughed. “Well, I reckon I’ll keep that going until I join Sophie at the pearly gates.”

Then he spoke sharply, “but no way I’m gonna rebuild that damn stand by myself!”

Hands shot up and voices called out.

“No way Sambo!”

“We’ve got it brother!

“No worry man!”

“Vamosa hombres!”

I watched in amazement as a transformation occurred. The sad faced group of apologetic men and mob of pilferers became a focused army of workers sorting re-useable materials from the fallen hut. Squashed produce was tossed back in the bushes to rot into organic oneness. A flatbed truck arrived and before noon what had been Sophie’s Stand was loaded up. Gears grinding, the truck lurched forward.

Finishing our third bottle of Sophie’s Best, Sam and I Threw our chairs on the truck, and followed the community parade.

In an earlier moment, Sam had decided to relocate the new stand atop a nearby hill. Here the caravan stopped and waited as Sam surveyed the setting. He slowly turned around and smiled.

“Nice view,” said Sam, “It’ll do!.” Then he crossed himself and emptied his bottle of “Sophie’s Best” on the ground, holy water anointing the sacred place.

The crowd cheered. The work began.

Sam and I reclaimed our chairs and placed them in the shade of a towering coolibah tree. Sam produced another bottle of Sophie’s Best which we drank watching the flurry of activity on the stage in front of us.

While it can be justly said that most of the world’s problems have been caused by misguided men, I had to admit that when guys get their act together, they can do a helluva lot of work in short order.

Every one seemed to know what they had to do, and while the men put things back together, women showed up with baskets of food and even the children helped where they could. There was laughter and singing, and people seemed genuinely happy. By late afternoon, what had been piles of reclaimed materials had become the newly arisen Sophie’s Stand. Women and girls were soon stocking fresh produce.

Ladders were leaned against the front of the hut and men replaced the sign under the edge of the tin roof. Sam spoke to a young man who climbed a ladder with a brush and can of paint. Carefully, the artist added a word to the sign above Sophie’s smiling face.

“Sophie’s Last Stand” the sign announced. Sam grinned and the people clapped in approval.

At that moment, I saw a lone figure coming up the road. Getting closer, the form became a young boy dragging something. Shortly, he appeared in front of Sam and set his load on Sam’s knee.

It was a signpost. Atop the pole was a board with one word painted on it.

“Almost.”

Next to the lone word was a number.

“2.”

I remembered the story. Sophie had told it to me as we sat on those rocking chairs the day we’d met. Seems she and Sam had been enjoying the wonder of life one evening rocking on their porch and she’d said,

“Honey, this is about as close to Heaven as I’m gonna get.”

“Amen, momma,” replied Sam.

“”I’m almost there, baby,” Sophie concluded.

The next day Sam had shown up at the stand with a new sign and planted it facing the road.

“Almost 2)

Now, Sam put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and smiled. Then he and the boy dragged the sign next to the new stand and two men began digging. Soon, the sign was proudly resurrected.

Sam spoke to the artist who started to paint over the number “2.”

Wait!” I heard myself yell.

It was time for me to make a stand of my own.

Beside Sam and the sign, I raised his arm with mine in triumph.

“Almost” had a new resident.

There was applause and cheers and a few hats flew into the air, then people went back to their daily lives. Cars began pulling up. People entered Sophie’s Last Stand seeking fresh fruit and vegetables, some local hooch, and a friendly smile.

If you ever feel like you’re in Heaven, look around. Perhaps you’re almost there.

 

tio stib, 2015

You might also enjoy: A Mirrored Smile, The Road Not Taken

She Thinks Purex is Perfume

A Tribute to Domestic Stew

My wife thinks Purex is perfume
she daily douses every room
and drowns each floor
with bleach galore
a stench that soon
provokes a swoon
and drives me out
to shout the moon

tio stib, 2015

You might also enjoy: Where the Sidewalk Ends, Seattle Sun

Footprints

standing silent on the sand
as time drains from my mind
I see a lone heart on the beach
a love that once was mine

you asked for love
you let me in
to see
your wounded soul
you shared your shame
but did I hear
sadly, I said “no”

your heart screamed
did I feel your pain
no,
I hid behind my walls
afraid to love again

I violated sacred trust
your tears a silent shout
and now lost in loneliness
mere words will never count

I know now a larger love
That cries we’re not apart
too late though in my emptiness
I see footprints on your heart

tio stib, 1995, 2015

You might also enjoy: A Cure For The Valentine’s Day Blues, Intimacy

The Ultimate Romantic Gift, or How To Save Your Ass When you’ve Really Made Her Mad

You spent last night on the couch, not because that’s where you fell asleep watching the female
mud wrestling championships, but because “She” the woman you’ve promised to forever hold
and cherish, stomped into the room in the middle of said championships and yelled, “You
worthless pile of bat guano! Do you know what day it is?” At which point She turned around and
disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door so hard that the car alarm started screeching
in the garage.

Surprised, you watch the referee count down the final pin by ooze covered She Bitch, then turn
down the volume and consider what just happened.

A distant voice stirs in your subconscious. She said something about a day. What’s so special
about this day, besides the mud wrestling championships? Oh. A glimmer of recognition. The big
circle she’s been highlighting on the refrigerator calendar the past few days. The advertisement
for Cirque de Soleil tickets left obviously on the kitchen table. The extra cookies in the sack
lunch. She must have wanted something. Oops! Clarity looms in your limited consciousness.
Today is her birthday! What can you do now? First, go turn off the car alarm, the sound is
driving me crazy.

Much better. Now, since you’ll have the whole night on the couch to consider what to do next.
Let me start the process.

Remember The Love Game, (see previous post). She only expects you to do something nice
for her four times a year, those four sacred days are: birthdays, Anniversaries, Mom’s and
Valentine’s Day. In return, you get clean clothes, cooked food, and, hopefully, some delectable
moments in bed, not to mention the beer she brings you with the week’s groceries. All this for a
few measly niceties four times a year. So much for so little and now you’ve blown it.
Take heart, you’re not the first man to be so stupid, our short sighted history precedes you. But,
do not despair, help is on the way. Tio Stib is going to disclose how you can dig yourself out of
this hole.

First, remember the rules of The Love Game. Remember that women make the rules, meaning
only they really know what the rules are. there’s no way you’ll ever really know these rules.
Women know this, and they like it this way. They like being in control. They like knowing your
ego can be flattened at any moment with “”The Look.”” Yes, women like leaving us eternally
confused by this game. The good news is that most women have some sympathy for the sad
male condition, meaning they will grant opportunities for salvation if men do enough groveling.
So, let’s start groveling.

Face it guys, women like drama. It’s what makes them tick. Part of her reason for stomping into
the living room and raining on your mud wrestling parade was to put some drama into your
relationship. Yes, she was probably really pissed off too, but she wanted to make sure you
damn well knew that. So, how do we get back into The Love Game now that we’ve fallen off the
ladder?

Think Ultimate Romantic Gift. What would this be? What can you give her that will so amaze her
that your current worthless status will be immediately forgiven?
Please pay attention. What I’m about to share is the secret of many happy loving relationships.
There are three ingredients to the Ultimate Romantic Gift. First, it must be Wow! It must be
something so unexpected, so incredible that she can’t believe you’ve done this for her. Second,
it must be a surprise’ something that comes at a totally unexpected time. Something so WOW!
So unexpected that she’s speechless with wonder. And, lastly, it must be something from your
heart. A gift that shows that you really care, not something to make up for yesterday’s screw up.
This surprise gift is “just because.”

Simple, yes? So how do you pull this off?

Start by paying attention. Do your best Sherlock Homes imitation and begin looking for clues.
She’s often quite forthcoming in this way. Listen to what she tells you, read between the lines.
Little thoughts like “ Did you notice Harriet’s new diamond ring,” meaning she doesn’t have such
a trinket. Or, “Sally and George are going on their second vacation in two years,” which is her
way of telling you that you’ve not been on a vacation in five years. O.K., you’ve started paying
attention, you even have some ideas of what might make her happy. Now what?

Remember, the perfect gift is something she really wants and it shows up in her life at the
perfect time. What does this mean? It means you don’t give her a beautifully wrapped box and a
dozen roses the day after she’s sent you off to the loveless desert because you forgot your
wedding anniversary, again. Yes, this may help soften the situation, but remember, she’s
dumped on you because she likes drama and she enjoys watching you suffer. She’s going to
play this for all it’s worth and will not let you off the hook so easily. She wants you to be guilt
stricken, there’s not much else that seems to motivate you.

No, if you really want maximum effect for your Ultimate Romantic Gift, you need to give it on an
unexpected occasion. Not one of those four special days, rather on a day just like any other, a
day when you give her this special surprise “Just Because.”

“Just Because” gifts are the arrow straight into a woman’s heart. That is, of course, assuming
you’ve not totally forgotten the other four special days. If you’ve done that, it won’t matter how
many “Just Because” gifts you bestow upon her. She’s going to think you’re a lazy, self-absorbed
jerk. And, of course, she’s right.

No, “just Because” gifts are for the rare occasions when you truly stop and appreciate how
much “she” loves you and how empty your life would be without her.
Let’s summarize. Guys, if you want to stay ahead and win The Love Game, you need to
remember those four special days, birthdays, anniversaries, Mom’s and Valentine’s Day. You
need to pay attention and listen for those clues she will undoubtedly give you to what she really
wants. Then, to really show you care, and to soften the fall when you inevitably screw up, you
do something Wow! “Just Because.”

You can do this guys. You can win The Love Game.

Drop me a note if you’ve got any great gift ideas. After this mornings crash with the wife over the
proper temperature of hot chocolate, I’m in need of some suggestions.

Good loving!

Tio Stib Signature
INSERT TIO STIB SIGNATURE HERE

Need more help? Check out my book “Remedies for Reluctant Romantics, 100 Ways to Sweep
Love Off Its Feet.” It’s fun; it’s practical; and it’s cheap! Here’s the link-

Remedies For Reluctant Romantics

Winning at the Game of Love!
Romance For Dummies…