During the course of our recently deceased summer I was invited by a young belle to a dinner party. This very evening I was considering writing a piece on the ultimate bachelor survival line which I did utter at this function, and in fact had it outlined with the title and subtitle you see at the top of the page, not wanting to let the summer get too far into my cracked rearview mirror before documenting one of my more antisocial moments! Mind you a bachelor survival line is concerned not with the bachelor’s survival, but the survival of his partnerless status.

Just as I was ready to wax misogynistic I received an email from the same belle, inviting me to a second dinner, a dinner which will be attended by a second woman who I believe was previously intended…

Back in the dog days of August, as I was welcomed before dinner, the hostess quietly informed me that the other woman attending, who we shall name Hannah, ‘Was just getting out of a long term relationship’ and was ‘sexually starved.’

For some unfathomable reason I found myself—alone among the numerous men present—seated across from Hannah. Hannah was not only intelligent, interesting and pretty, but, well had a figure that appealed mightily to my Mesolithic female body image.

Having gotten lost in conversation with this fine young woman—many years my junior I might add, and at my age it means something—my friend Sebastian [who is a wholly owned subsidiary of the belle throwing the party] saw my ship of bachelorhood headed toward the shoals of compatibility and interceded on my half, just as Hannah was asking me how I ‘usually felt’ upon the dissolution of a longstanding relationship.

Sebastian spread his arms and said, “Woah, woah! You obviously do not know who you are speaking to.”

Intrigued, the young lady blinked at me with her long auburn lashes and folded her hands under her chin. Sebastian intoned, “Just last year I was trying to fathom the mystery of Mister Jim’s bachelorhood. In an attempt to pin him down and develop a scenario whereby he might consider matrimony, I discovered that his ideal woman would be Selma Hayek.”

The lady—with similar length hair and a like degree of vertical challenge to the Latina beauty—seemed pleased with my taste.

Then Sebastian dropped the bomb as he turned to me, “Now, Mister Jim, would you be kind enough to repeat your answer to me when I asked you if anything could possibly be better than waking up in bed next to Selma Hayek for the rest of your life?”

I pushed back from the table slightly and repeated my infamous bachelor boast, “If I had a choice between marrying Selma Hayek and waking up with her in my arms every morning, or waking up in an alley chained to a wall next to Mike Tyson and having to fight him over a can of dog food or starve—I’d fight Mike for the cold can of Alpo.”

That was the closest to a Beowulf quality boast I have ever made. The men were careful not to applaud too loudly and the ladies did not.

I declined this evening’s invitation to dine once again with the personable Hannah. However, if the lady shows up at my door in a trench coat and high heels with a bottle of wine in her purse I might be swayed to temporarily forget my pledge…

Hannah did contact me thrice, over a year's time, and I politely disappointed her thrice by not getting back to here. I must admit a very real desire to get physical with her, and would not trust myself not to fall into her pretty clutches if left alone in a room with her. This is why distance, distance created between you and your female suitor—and looming ruination as a fighter or author—is as necessary as maintaining distance is in a fight if you are a boxer and the opponent is a wrestler.

Also keep in mind, that if you, like me, are attracted to a woman largely based on her personality, than her hopes will sky rocket [good luck hiding this]. Since most men honestly dislike women she will see you as a once in a lifetime opportunity to have a total relationship, which is the last thing you need. Once she has decided that 'you're the guy!' than all serenity depletion markers will go off the charts when you decide to make your much needed artistic or combative space, which shall be the subject of the upcoming installment, Her Cozy Place and Your Battle Space.

If, as a man, you have a career in fighting, or writing, which I find are very similar in the amount of solitude required to achieve quality results, then getting in a relationship with a woman—no matter how attractive—who is obviously looking for a fulfilling relationship—which for a woman means extensive close contact and the diminishment of the solitude necessary for your art—then you are acting destructively towards her peace of mind, and laying the ruination for your own, unless of course your are a sociopath. Even if you are a total asshole, merely the time required to manage the break up in such a way that will not result in being stalked, charged or sued—all of which are detrimental to your serenity—will place a significant drag on the practice of your art.