I watch her and I see how she does it.
It is all come on over big boy, poking fun to make friends. Put down love. The kind that makes them squirm but pay attention. Reeling them in by seeming only half attentive. When they are there at her feet she cuts the line and laughs and walks away and they are hers.
A whole party full of men and all of them buzzing around her. It is distressing for me. This treat them mean game. I like her but I see the cruelty in it. I seem them stripped bare, humiliated. I see them lose face and not care.
I see how she does it and know that I too could have any man there. At my feet, kicked and beaten and hoping for scraps off the table.
That horrible game. A cliche. But it works. It works for her. Maybe because she is prettier than I am. Maybe because I can't hurt people like that, even if it makes them love me more.
I would play but I can't. You are either liked, and cared for or I give you a wide berth. There is no middle ground.
Therefore the adoring hordes are at her feet and not mine.