At some point in your life you will be forced into a situation against your will and you'll have to act. Coercion reveals our true nature. It's the fight-or-flight instinct we share with the rest of the animal kingdom, and put to the test you will do one of two things: Tuck your tail and run, cowering and retreating to the shadows, or stand your ground and power through, emerge shining, whatever you want to call it. In this type of situation you'll learn a lot about yourself and your ability to think quickly on your feet, roll with the punches, whatever you want to call it. Most of the time it won't be pretty. It won't be flawless. And it will be a struggle not to lose your focus.

Tonight I found myself in the middle of this kind of situation. I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom at work, watching the water I'd just splashed on my face make its way down, over my nose and cheeks, past the curves and whiskers on my chin, and down into the sink. I took another look at my watch - the third time I'd looked in twenty seconds - and the time was still five minutes until six. My moment of truth was coming, my forced situation, my time to shine, whatever you want to call it, in the form of drinks at Delmonicos with Gloria, the Bosslady. My attempt to rope Melinda into this as some kind of security blanket had worked, but I got the unsettling feeling that given our past history, bringing in Mel was a bad idea. I'd have to go through with it though. You have to crash before you can burn.

That I couldn't go home and change before our 7pm meeting time was already strike one. I had a suit on and Delmonicos is all about professional, polished appearances, but where their bar is continually littered with hipsters touting CKNY, Hugo Boss, and Canali, I was outfitted in a three-piece Burberry. Fine for swinging by the golf club for an early evening of cognac snifters and Churchill cigars with the old boys club, but a little too outdated for the likes of Delmonicos. Oh well, no choice. I slipped off the jacket and removed the vest, carefully transferring my Colibri pocketwatch from its vest jacket to my inside coat pocket. I loosened my tie and the top button of my white cotton shirt, and let the tie hang an inch or two too loose off my neck in a disheveled manner. I ran some water through my hair and mussed it up a bit, giving myself an impish, devil-may-care look. Oh well, it's the best I can do with what I have. At least I was wearing the Ferragamos today and they had plenty of lustre from their last polishing. Women notice the shoes. They never miss it.

I rolled into Delmonicos promptly at 7 and its meat-market atmosphere was in full effect. People were packed into the bar; it was literally standing room only. Women were draped over men as they fawned their way through compliments, feigning interest in a guy only long enough to learn about his bank account or position of power. The men were doing likewise, fishing about the chock-full room of former models and playboy playmates, of full double-d bra cups and empty brains, acting interested in their senseless drivel about somebody they knew from some place at some point in time, and it was important to know they knew this person, as if it conferred status. I was trapped in a room full of clones. All they guys were nodding like bobble-head dolls as they faked listening to dumb stories from dumb women, all they while dreaming of 100 different ways to get her into bed and another 100 things to do to her once she was there. And all the women in the place looked like the golddigging type. I've usually been able to steer clear of the golddiggers, but tonight the two of us appeared to be on a collision course.

Before I could push my way to the hostess table and ask for Gloria Simms' table, an arm shot up in the rear of the bar, somewhere between the bartender and the end row of tables. I stood on my toes to get a better look, but I knew it was her. She did the same. We quickly made eye contact and once I guaged where in the room she was exactly I started pushing through the wall of huddled bodies for Gloria.

"Hey, glad you could make it," she said once I broke free of the masses and took a seat.

"Thanks. Could you have picked any more crowded a place than this?" I asked. "You are definitely going to get a year's worth of data here tonight."

"You got that right. What are you drinking?" she asked as she gave her Manhattan a slow stir. "You should grab a server the minute you see one. You may not get another chance."

The waitress came by and I ordered a J&B on the rocks. She didn't even look up. Given all the power players in the room I guess she couldn't smell any money on me. She'd barely left the table when Gloria started in.

"So, looking around the room, tell me what you're thinking about this crowd. What's the vibe?"

"The vibe? Well, for starters don't use that word, 'vibe.' It's too outdated and just old. 'Mood' or 'atmosphere' are just fine. No need to liven up such an ho-hum word, you know?"

Bosslady looked taken aback by that, and in the same instant I realized that I had just delivered a mild smackdown to Bosslady, the person who could make me disappear from Chiat/Day. I quickly readjusted to make myself not sound so critical.

"What I mean to say is that people can tell a lot about a person by how they speak and what catchwords they use. So if you use 'vibe' for example, you'll be written off as not being a little old fashioned. And that's just not fair to you to be operating from a position of inferiority, that's all." I smoothed my hair quickly. "I just want you to have the best data you can have." I stretched data as I said it, still suspicious of her motives and what we were exactly doing here.

"Oh that's different," Gloria said. Then she laughed abruptly. "For a minute there I thought you were insulting me."

"Me? No. Pssh." I faked a little light-heartedness and was just damn glad my out worked.

The waitress came flying back with my J&B, and I briefly caught her name tag just as she arrived at our table. Candice. "Thanks Candice," I said as she placed the drink on our table in a hurry.

"Mm-hmm" was all she answered as she scurried away to another table waiting to put in their bar order. This was going to be an interested evening. Time I kick-started things and the first thing I needed to do was get a solid and answer about what I was doing here with Gloria. I grabbed the knot in my tie and gave it a firm tweak, then reached for my drink as I leaned inward towards Bosslady.

"So, tell me why exactly we are here? You could have drinks in any bar with anybody. So is this to let off some steam? Change up the routine a bit? I'm at a loss here," I said, scratching my temple to underscore my question.

"I told you, I want to observe and collect data."

"That sounds too clinical to be the case."

She laughed and slowly stroked the stem of the martini glass housing her half-finished Manhattan.

"Clinical or not, it's the case."

"Well then, why me? There are countless people in the office with whom to conduct this test. Why not some of your fellow execs? Why not Bob in accounting? Why not the women in ad sales and trafficking?"

"The execs are boring and stuffy, and most are married and over 35, so that doesn't make for a good experiment. I'd rather do this with a man than a woman, because then I can get motives and strategies straight from the horse's mouth instead of speculating with a group of women. Is that a good enough answer?"

"I guess."

"Look, don't read anything into this. Don't be nervous, and tonight don't think of me as the boss. I figured you were as good as anyone else - we broke the ice rather well and now I know more about you. And I think your propensity to socialize with the 'in' crowd makes you a perfect test subject."

Great. I was a test subject, we were back on the clinical.

"Okay, so if that's how it is, what do you wanna know? How to tell you're being picked up on? When somebody's feeding you a line? How to tell from afar that somebody's crashing and burning, so the next time you and your husband are out the two of you can have a good laugh over someone else's misfortune?"

Gloria looked down at her hands and twisted the wedding band on her finger. "I'm not married. Not any more. We're not divorced, not yet. Only separated. We both worked so hard and so much for so long that we became strangers to each other after 21 years." She stopped twisting the ring.

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make anything of it -"

"That's okay," she interrupted, "you made an assumption. It's sort of why I continue to wear the ring even though we haven't lived together for almost a year. I just can't come around to removing it."

"So this is more about you getting back out there, isn't it?"

"Partly. I really do want to learn more about today's dating pool. It helps in coming up with new ideas for selling and marketing a client's product. It's like you said earlier today, if something sounds like it's being advertised by a group of people who aren't up to date on today's pop culture, then it can't ring true. I can identify with that remark. And if I can also use some of that info down the line when I do return to the life of a single person, then what's the harm in that? I could use all the help I can get, wouldn't you say?" With that she brushed her stocking-clad leg against mine and I jumped, though it was purely by accident as somebody behind her bumped Gloria's back, causing her to jolt forward. She corrected with a "sorry about that." Whew. I felt my soul spring out of my body and half way up to heaven.

Sensing my nervousness Bosslady added, "you should calm down. How are you supposed to get lucky tonight if you're so skiddish?"

I was about to answer when I heard a "Reed, is that you?" from somewhere in the bar. Melinda, right on cue. Was it 7:30 already?

She walked towards our table wearing a long-sleeved cotton shirt with just a little cleavage showing, and a pendant necklace pointing down towards her lightly freckled chest and the cleavage below. Those pendant necklaces, they sure draw the eye just where women want them. You'll never hear a woman admit that. Mel also had on the same blood-red skirt she'd worn to work today, and classy-looking heels. She was dressed to kill, and the men all took notice. The guys parted the middle of the room for her and just stared as they slowly filled in the wake behind her. She flirtatously smiled at a few and I knew they'd just had their day made.

She stopped in front of me and quickly got into her part. "My my, Delmonicos? Is nothing out of your league? What are you doing here?"

"Oh you know, enjoying the atmosphere" - I stressed the word and winked at Gloria as I said this - "and having a drink with a friend." At this I nodded towards Gloria and waited for Mel to move forward with our little ad-lib.

It worked. Melinda did a almost too-good-to-be-true double take, acting like she just realized for the first time who I was seated beside. "Oh, Ms. Simms," Mel started. Wait, she called her "Ms." What did she know that I didn't? "I work at Chiat/Day, in Reed's department as well." She gave her hair a quick toss. Apparently Mel was quite aware of the men still fawning over her.

"You do?"

"Yes," I interjected, "quick introductions - Gloria Simms, Melinda Davies. Melinda is a fellow junior account exec in our department. Quite a good one too." Mel blushed a bit as I said this.

"Pleased to finally meet you," said Melinda, hand extended.

"Gosh, another employee I barely know. I feel so dumb," remarked Gloria as she stood to take Mel's hand. "I was just telling Reed today that I am going to make an extra effort to get to know people working in the departments I don't keep a close watch over, and what do you know - you just land in our lap here! You must join us. I can't see any better way of getting to know another employee."

Gloria was hooked. The plan was working perfectly.

Mel took the seat next to me and pinched my leg under the table as she sat down. I grimaced. "You know Gloria, maybe we should tell Mel here about your little experiment. She'd be perfect for it too, because a guy surrounded by two women is infinitely hotter to the rest of the women in the room. It's a simple fact."

"Oh, I make you hotter?" Mel playfully asked. Now it was my turn to pinch her leg under the table, and she tried to supress a wicked grin as I did. She probably enjoyed this.

Gloria filled Melinda in on the details of our rendevous, and Mel for her part acted surprised and excited. "Sounds fun," Mel said to punctuate the offer of hanging out with us. "We can see the god's gift to women in action," she added, nudging her shoulder against mine.

"Whatever," I said. "You make this sound like I have it down to a science."

"And you don't? Tell me, where did you get that little nugget about guys in the presence of women from?" Melinda asked.

"Cosmo. Wait, maybe Glamour. One of those magazines we have at work."

"You did?" asked Gloria.

"Sure. You mean you've never read that in one of your women's magazines? Never?"

"No, not in mine. But I only receive Women's World, Women's Fitness, and Modern Runner. I don't think any of the three contained info on how to get other women jealous."

To egg me on, Melinda continued. "And what other little nuggets of wisdom did you get from reading women's magazines?"

"Get off it, these pearls aren't only available in women's mags. You can find them in Men's Health or GQ, even Stuff. And there are plenty of websites that share this info under the guise of them being "secrets." They aren't secrets. Just pay a little attention and learn to read the signs, that's all."

"For example?" asked Gloria.

I looked around the room and spotted a guy and girl a few chairs apart from each other who seemed to have something in the works. "Over there," I said, being so blunt as to point in the direction of the two, "the guy in the black suit and cobalt blue shirt. See him? Follow his eye line. Every so often he's checking out the redhead in the multi-colored striped shirt and navy skirt. It's not a hard stare, just enough to be obvious sign to the woman that he's checking her out. That's the beginning."

Gloria and Mel locked on to the two, temporarily interrupted by Candice's return with a fresh round of drinks. I continued with my commentary. "Check out the woman's body language. It's open-faced, that's to say she isnt' crossing her arms or showing physical signs of resistance."

Bosslady stopped me. "Signs of resistance? I don't follow."

"It's all in the body language. If she's turned towards him, arms at the side instead of folded, legs slightly apart, and conscious of his presence that's a good sign. She's displaying all of that right now."

We continued to watch as the guy every so often sent a glance towards the woman, and then broke away when he sensed she knew he was watching her. This went on for a little while as we sipped our drinks in silence. Then the woman ran a hand through her her.

"She went for the hair," Mel remarked. "He's in."

Gloria perked up. "Meaning?"

Mell took this one. "The woman running her hand through her hair is a good sign for a guy. It means she wants him to approach her. It's something primal. You know how animals present, when they show off their plumage or their mane? It's pointing out something they have that's flashy and superior to the rest. This woman is sorta doing the same thing. All the guy needs to do is approach her and start talking. The ball's in his court now."

We resumed watching, waiting for the guy to take his cue and stroll over to where the woman was seated. She seemed to have lost all interest in those around her and the people she was there with, another indicator that this guy was getting the red carpet treatment. But a funny thing happened: He wasn't taking the bait.

"Why is nothing happening?" asked Gloria.

"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink," replied Melinda.

I sighed. "Perhaps. Maybe he's shy. Shy is a roadblock. He has to take the bull by the horns. I dunno, maybe he's hoping she will approach him. This whole independent woman thing has been a boon for shy guys who now sit back and wait for the woman to make the move. It's also thrown a real wrench in the works. You're stuck with two interested people, each waiting for the other to take that first step." I took a swig of J&B. "I don't have time for to wait for this guy. Let's use another guinea pig and accelerate the situation."

"What do you have in mind?" asked Melinda. She looked deep into my eyes, smiling. "Your eyes look green in this light."

"Knock it off, I'm not talking about us," I quipped. "Well, not me. Just you. Scan the room and see who's giving you the eyes."

She did. It didn't take long - I noticed five guys checking her out.

"See, what Melinda is doing is locking eyes with intersted men to gauge who is hot for her."

"They're all hot for me," Mel deadpanned.

"How long is enough?" asked Gloria. "What's the difference between an 'I'm looking around the room' gaze and a 'hey you, you look pretty good to me' gaze?"

"If you are interested, you throw gazes their way maybe two or three times. The third time you stare just a little more than what seems to be a comfortable length. More than a gaze, but not quite a stare." I took another swig. "Are you certain you've never heard any of this before?"

"No, never," replied Gloria, chuckling. "It's amazing how you know all these unwritten rules."

"You have no idea," Melinda responded. I pinched her again under the table.

Mel found her candidate: A late 20s-looking guy, dark and distinguished, wearing what looked like a Hillfiger searsucker suit and a tan shirt. He had a very long and angular look to him, and he picked up on Mel instantly, locking eyes intently as he produced a faint smile.

"Like what you're seeing?" I chided.

"I do, but I'm here to help you find that special someone, not me."

"Oh, so giving of you." We watched as Mel and dark-and-distinguished traded occasional glances, sometimes underscored with an additional smile. I watched for long enough, and then announced I needed to visit the men's room. In my absence dark-and-distinguished approached the table and sat down, telling them he only had a few minutes to work with until I returned. Luckily for him there was a line in the men's room, giving the guy a few extra moments to chat up Mel and Gloria. Melinda sent him away empty handed, while Gloria simply waved her left hand to show off the ring. Then he was gone. When I returned the two were giggling, thick as thieves.

"This brings up an important point: What happens to a guy's ego when he's shot down?" asked Bosslady.

"A guy will go one of two ways. If he's had enough practice, or enough experience being shot down, he'll just go to the next one. If his ego is too fragile for him to handle that sort of thing, he'll go home, lick his wounds, maybe renounce women for a little while before returning to the hunt." I produced a sly grin before reaching for my drink. "I'm in the first group by the way."

"And how many women is enough women?"

I counted on my fingers in mock jest. "There's no maximum. Why do people feel the need to put a cap on everything? Make casual acquaintences. Take some a little further. Take some even more so. What's the big deal?"

I was tired of waiting around for Candice to come ask if we wanted another round, so I made my way to the bar and tried to get the bartender's attention. Instead, I found I was getting the attention of the redhead the three of us had been watching earlier. She kept looking my way ever so briefly, hoping to catch my gaze. When we locked eyes, she gave a quick smile before darting away her eyes. I looked back towards the table. Mel had picked up on the girl's gaze, and was giving me the push sign to go over. Not getting the bartender's attention, I gave one last gaze towards the woman. She was already locked on me, and when our eyes met I grinned. She grinned and then turned away. Batter up.

I walked over and said hello. She introduced herself as Angela. We shook hands and I asked who she was here with. "Just some friends" was her succinct reply. Then she pointed out our table.

"Co-workers? Or mother and sister?" I silently laughed as I heard Gloria being mistaken for my mother, just like I knew would happen.

"Co-workers. You're a winner."

She perked up. "I am? What do I win?" She smiled coyly. She'd done this before.

"Uh, another spin on the Reed-o-rama. The grand prize is a doozy." She laughed and tousled her hair. The bartender finally came and I ordered my drink and bought Angela one while I was at it. We talked a little bit, but as I turned to glance back at my table, I noticed Melinda shooting me eye daggers. Apparently she was keen on having me experiment, but not to go so far as actually enjoy myself.

I politely made my exit and delivered it with a confident accuracy. "I'm sorry, but I have to get back to my co-workers before we wrap up our business and leave. I'd invite you to join us, but we won't be here much longer. I would, however, like to continue what we've started here, maybe a drink or a cup of coffee sometime. Some place not so crowded and frenzied as here. I came in this evening and thought they'd be handing out hooks for this meat market atmosphere."

Angela laughed again and nodded, then reached in her purse and pulled out a slip of paper and a pen. She wrote her name and cell number, adding a smiley face beside it. Ugh. I took the paper and told her I would call later this week.

I returned to our table and sat down, going for my phone to program the number.

"Wow, look at you, you really made out!" said Gloria, taking the slip of paper from my hand. "Angela," she repeated a few times.

"No, the making out will come next time I think."

"You're really something. You have a pretty high opinion of yourself, don't you?"

"It's confidence. You are confusing ego with confidence."

Gloria shook her head. "You are really something."

"I know you didn't mean that as a compliment, but let me tell you - the women my age, they remember the really somethings."

Mel punched me in the arm, a little harder than playful. "Way to go Romeo," she added. "I can't believe this," Melinda said, shaking her head.

Gloria picked up the sentiment but totally missed the intention. "I know. First he points out all the things she's doing. Then he goes and throws them all right back at her and hooks her. Five minutes with her and he's walking away with her phone number. Do people still use the word player?"

"They sure do," Melinda mused.

"That's what you are, a total player," Bosslady declared.

I shook my head. "I'm just a regular guy, just like anybody else in here."

"No way. Clearly you've working with something these other men do not. Something giving you an edge. But there will come a day when you falter. One day you are going to crash, and crash hard. I only hope I'm around to see it happen."

"Me too," added Mel. Then they laughed together.

"Okay, okay," I said as I stood, "that's my cue to leave. My work is done here."

"Oh boo hoo, did we hurt the high-and-mighty Reed?" asked Melinda in a mocking tone.

"Has your ego taken a hit? Time to go home and lick your wounds?" added Gloria.

"No, I've no wounds to lick tonight. I know when it's time to go, and when Brutus and Cassius here are plotting my demise right in front of me, I'd say it's time." I went for the wallet in my coat pocket and pulled out a twenty.

Gloria waved me off. "Oh no, don't worry. I've got this. There's three of us here, it's a business expense." She kept up her waving motion until I put the bill back in my wallet. "Besides, what I've learned and seen tonight will last me for some time."

"Yeah, you just got skirtchasing, chapter one," added Melinda. They both laughed again.

"Fine, whatever." I gave my tie one last tweak, loosening it more so the knot hung lower on my shirt, threw Angela one final glance as I pushed through the masses blocking the door, and was off into the cool Los Angeles night.