Shotgun!

To ride shotgun is to sit in the front passenger seat when riding a car or other vehicle. The first known reference to "riding shotgun" in print occurred on March 27, 1921, when it was used to refer to riding as an armed guard in the front of a stagecoach.

An armed guard in the front of a stage coach… It stands to reason but it also makes me laugh. As I researched calling shotgun, I did so with the intention of writing a piece about calling men the same way that you call shotgun. I am of the belief that you can call the front seat and you might even be able to call a certain spot at a restaurant or you might call dibs on tickets to a game or grandma’s peach pie... But surely, you cannot call dibs or shotgun on a man.

Yet, women do it all the time!

And that simple act might be the single most detrimental act on female friendships. Nearly every woman has made a habit of picking out a guy and calling him “hers” and implying that none of her friends should even think about him. She called shotgun. The seat is hers. No flirting allowed. Certainly no touching. And sometimes talking is even frowned upon!

But the fact of the matter remains that even if you do call shotgun on the next hot guy that walks through the door, it doesn’t mean anything unless he’s got his eye on you too.

The traditional game of shotgun has rules and regulations. Calling shotgun on guys does not. So if we are going to continue this trend, perhaps we need a committee. We should develop some rules. Rule number one should be a time limit. And if he doesn’t reciprocate within that time limit, your friends get a shot at him.
I’d like to clarify that I am not writing about this now because I have my eye on any of the men my friends apparently have “dibs” on at the moment. I have been thinking about this for quite some time actually.

Often, you hear female friends saying that they will never let a man come between them. The truth is that men don’t come between us. We BRING men into the middle every time we call shotgun on them.

An Email from THAT Guy

Got an email yesterday from a guy that just plain does it for me…

If I could have looked the world over and plucked one man from the masses to keep as my own, he would have been that guy. He fits the “mold” I created in my mind of my perfect man. He satisfies the checklist. (Every girl has one. I keep mine in my wallet.)

I realize it is dangerous to publicize that I have met and identified my ideal chap considering I am still in the market for a man. But prospective Michele –Enthusiasts can take heart in knowing that I do not use THAT guy as a measure for others. I evaluate each man on his own merits. There’s no competition. So please keep the offers coming.

That said, I can’t help but wonder from time to time, WHAT IF? What if I hadn’t been such a complete goof ball every time he came around? And what if he hadn’t gotten married? And what if I had complied with his check list?

But I try to live my life with no regrets and no what ifs. I will always see him as the guy who fit the mold and I will admire him from afar. And I will keep his emails. And every once in a while I will look at his name in my IN BOX, just for grins.

It's completely unhealthy, I know. It's like sucking your thumb when what you really want is a chocolate raspberry popsicle.

But I’ll do it. Until I get an email that trumps his…

…or that chocolate raspberry popsicle.