It happens to the best of us. We set out to find a woman who is kind and caring, sensitive and sexy, supportive and submissive. With the best of intentions we press out shirts, polish our shoes and stuff our pockets with condoms before setting out on the hunt. We scan the bar looking for that special girl who we will woo with our humor, captivate with out charm and inevitably plow with cheap alcohol.

It is during this ritual that we tend to lose objectivity by instead of pursuing the slowest ( or in many cases the fattest) antelope of the herd we shift our sights to those that seemingly deserve our attention. We desire the unattainable, chase the un-catchable and challenge the incorrigible. When last call arrives and we find ourselves scurrying out of the bar singing How Soon is Now from the Smiths:

There's a club, if you'd like to go 
You could meet somebody who really loves you 
So you go, and you stand on your own 
And you leave on your own 
And you go home 
And you cry 
And you want to die 

If only we had been properly trained to spot the impostors so much money would have been saved, egos less bruised and liver cells preserved. Learning to shout down our impulses, overcome our stereotypes and harness our hormones is key to avoiding heartbreak and disappointment.

Stopping to hit on the beer tub chick is like staying on the parking lot tram at Disney World. She is placed near the entrance to build false hope and to wrestle away the $5 bill you just got back from the cover charge. She is a paper tiger: too dumb to bar tend, too lazy to waitress and often too small for her fake boobs. If you try to talk to her beyond telling her what kind of beer you want she will blow you off by rearranging the beer bottles or washing off the ice. She is a beer tub girl, if she had personality she would get a more respectable job, like emptying abortion vacuums. All she really is is a bottle opener that thinks it's going to be a marine biologist.

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You shouldn't stare at the sun because your eyes will burn. You shouldn't stare at protruding tits because you are liable to miss something important, like her club foot, parole ankle monitor or worse yet you may totally overlook her insecurity. The girls who like to wear low cut, tight fitting shirts don't do it in order to temp you to talk about astrophysics, they do it to dare you to look. Then when they catch you looking, they point you out to their flat chested, bangs sporting tag-a-long and call you a pervert. It is obvious that these women have big tits regardless of what inappropriate attire they wear. I have a pancreas but I don't slice my gut open to for all to see then throw a drink in their faces when they ask if they can rub their feet on it. These women tend to bait you with their breasts but end up having ulterior motives, or pimps.

Heels are great on women who know how to walk in them . I can't count the number of times I have watched an attractive girl get up from a table wearing heels only to watch her fight gravity and coordination as she tries to sashay across the bar. Instead of undressing an elegant gazelle with my eyes I end up feeling like I am watching a newborn donkey try to right itself before being eaten by a mountain lion. It doesn't matter how nice her ass is when she walks like she has MS. 

If you see a girl wearing heels all of the time and she isn't a secretary or pole dancer, stay clear. She probably is self conscious about her calves or her short legs. She obviously is oblivious to the notion that men don't care how far the vagina is from the floor. Eventually you will have to carry her when she snaps an ankle trying to wear heels on the boardwalk or worse yet you will miss the first touchdown at the football game because she thought NFL meant National Fashion League and the six inch pumps she wore slowed both of you down when you had to walk from parking lot ZZ.