Winging it

This whole "wingman" situation has typically been a bro thing. Here's a little secret, women are amazing wingmen too. We're considerate, funny, supportive (beyond belief), natural talkers and many other amazing things. We're majestic. Period. There has been a few situations where I have served as a wingwoman to some guys, but mostly, here's a dirty little secret.. fellow majestic ladies also have wingwomen. Yep, that's right..sometimes girls go hunting, you will often find them dressed scantily clad, wearing very high heels and in a gaggle of other girls. That's right, a gaggle.

So a few days ago, a friend hit it off with a seemingly nice guy. He was with a friend, naturally my friend tried to pass the friend off on me. Right off the bat, not my type, but I did as any good wingwoman would do, took one for the team. I entertained conversations, hung out with them all night and let him buy me a few drinks (duh). After a bit, the kid grew on me, and it didn't seem so much of a duty, rather, I chose to stick around. Then, .. a friend of mine met up with us. This friend, a man friend with whom I have sexual tension with, put my wingwoman-ness to the test. Here I was... caught in the middle of a man ping-pong game. Not that I'm complaining... I would love to be in this situation more often, but I was torn ..I didn't know how to maneuver this situation.

Option one, be a good wingwoman and let my friend twiddle his thumbs.

Option two, screw being a wingwoman and hang out with my friend. After all, I had completed my duties long enough.

Option three, Ninja my way out of it while not disrupting any of the delicate relationships. 

After some other friends weighed in on what I should do, all responses came down to having to make a choice. I went with option three. If I were a guy, would you ask me to choose? Probably not. So I decided, that I wanted both. I wanted my cake and I'd be damned if I didn't eat it too! I devised a plan, made sure not to be too comfy or flirty with either, I didn't want to lose one...or worse, both. I played it cool toned it down and suggested we move bars, I saw that as an escape, left with one and had my friend be a wingman for me and make up a story about me getting split up/leaving early, whatever. Genius.

How'd it end up? Well, let's just say you can call me a ninja. A majestic freakin ninja.