A romantic comedy is perhaps the most powerful tool a woman playing hard-to-get has at her disposal. It keeps you in a crying/laughing dichotomy, which makes it almost impossible to plan out the next move. First I’m crying because some chick never knew her father, then I’m laughing because she gets tackled by the family dog.

The girl has two hidden agendas by picking such a film. The first is to see if you are actually sensitive enough to cry. The other is to see whether or not you have an obnoxious laugh. Based on this, they will decide to let you make the next move. Unfortunately, you will have to sit through “27 Dresses” before you find out.

Such an event befell me just a few weeks ago, and, needless to say, I wouldn’t be writing this if it went well. Sitting in my basement we flipped through the direct-TV movie options. I sat silently and prayed that a freak snowstorm in October would knock out my satellite before she found it, the ultimate chick-flick.

She found it. “Ghosts of Girlfriends Past” staring Matthew McConaughey and Jennifer Garner. I would make a joke about Matthew McConaughey, but I would be mauled by angry tweens and cougars if I did. The movie of course takes place on Christmas Eve, and cost me six dollars too watch. A meager amount for the opportunity to make a move.

Nothing happened. I ended up losing those six dollars to Matthew McConaughey who gets to do more than kiss for seventy percent of the movie.

Romantic comedies are like spin the bottle, except you have to pay to play.

We waved goodbye, and all I could think about was what could have been done with my six dollars. Eventually all my friends found out about my inability to make a move, so I was teased relentlessly.

I would’ve paid a swine flu-infected third grader to cough on me (just to escape school), however I had just spent my last six dollars on watching Jennifer Garner sob about the wedding she never had.

That was the day I decided I like H1N1 better than girls.