  Come on, admit it. You know what I'm talking about. You're out at a bar, enjoying a "few" drinks, when across the room, you see one of the most gorgeous men alive. He has dazzling green eyes, a casual and sexy smile, broad shoulders, and he is looking right at you. You smile and give sort of a wave. Just as you are about to wave him over, your Wingman (the female friend you came with) grabs your arm and spins you around.
"Dude?!! What the fuck are you thinking? Woof! " Huh? What do you mean? He seems perfectly wonderful!
(Shaking my head. ) Tsk, tsk, tsk. You've just fallen victim to one of the most tragic phenomena the dating world has ever seen. Something that has helped ugly people all over the world succeed for thousands of years at the Horizontal Mambo: Beer Goggles. Admittedly, I have occasionally worn the goggles in bars, but it has never progressed past pointing at someone I thought was Brad Pitt and having my Wingman go "Erin, seriously? Sweetie, maybe it's time to put down the vodka.
" That's because I always, always have someone with me who can: a)drive us safely home, b)keep me from making an ass of myself (hey, not an easy task), and c)protect me from Beer Goggles. Double points if it's all the same person. As my relationship progressed with CP and I realized he was The One, I stopped wearing the goggles. I lent them to friends and took up the dutiful job of being someone else's Wingman. I haven't had a drink in over six months (due to necessity, not choice) but my skills as a Wingman are as sharp as ever. No one brought their Beer Goggles over here (they were notably left off the packing list), but after approximately 3 weeks in this country, everyone is issued Deployment Goggles.
Now, I may have to explain this a little bit, but stick with me here. It has been proven as a scientific fact that the longer someone is away on a deployment, the lower their standards for sexual conquest become. Allow us to delve into the extraordinary psychology of Deployment Goggles: I'm sitting at lunch today (after battling the blazing heat to get to the chow hall) with three of the people from my office. (Hey misery loves company, right? ) Take note that they are all male, and I am the lone female. So we're sitting with our backs to the wall, which allows for convenient people-watching, which is our normal lunch-time activity.
Some female soldier walks by, and all three of them have stopped eating, jaws are dropped, eyeballs popping out, and they are all panting. She passes by, they all pick up their jaws, and then commence talking about how hot this chick was. "Seriously, man...she wants me. I could tell. " "No, man...she wants me . " "No way--you're second place, on this one, bro.
" By this point, I'm about to fall out of my chair, snort salad through my nose, and pee my pants because this "gorgeous chick" is just about the most atrocious-looking individual I have ever seen. (Hey, that's probably a little harsh, but I'm sure she has a great personality. ) I have to fulfill my duties as a Wingman, though, so I pull myself together and manage to squeeze out "Guys, seriously, she is horrible. Take off the Deployment Goggles and put them back in your ruck sack. " Then, I pull out a picture of Jennifer Aniston, which I keep just for this type of situation. "See?
Jennifer GOOD. Ugly girl BAD. " They all scratch their heads for a minute. Then a light bulb seems to come on and they nod up and down like cavemen. "Ugga ugga. " Wheww!
Another crisis averted. My work here is done. 
