I discovered that there’s no such thing as a shy cowboy, no such thing as a self-effacing cattle wrangler. And that holds true for all the guys who don hats and boots and loiter near the bar at the Electric Cowboy. A little for instance: this guy dances up to me, smiling with all four teeth, and acts as though he’s doing me a favor by being near.

And my response? Ladies, you know what you want to say to some loser who thinks he’s all that. You want to tell him to get lost. But what do you do instead? You smile, dance along with him (as far away as possible) and then make an excuse to go get lost in the crowd. There are definite exceptions — I have friends who don’t take any BS from anything male — but most of us don’t want to bruise the precious ego.

Another example: my friend Vivian, who is a no-nonsense type of girl and very straightforward, was in the car freshening up her lipstick before entering the bar — or “like lambs to slaughter,” as she describes the feeling of going to the big dance clubs — when she looks over and sees the strangest thing.

Near her car is a guy with his pants undone. Not one of those “zippers-at-half-mast” kinds of undone. I’m talking flayed completely open so the world can see what brand of tidy whities he wears (or doesn’t — I didn’t ask). When he sees her glance his way, does he turn around? Act embarrassed? No, he doesn’t. He just smiles and tells her how pretty she is.

With his pants down!

As a woman, I think the most mortifying thing in the world would be getting caught with my clothes half off in a public place. I’d go home and vow to never go back. And for good measure, I’d probably spend a couple of weekends at home in front of the television set, with some good books about other women’s embarrassments.

But not so with this guy. Later, inside the club, he asked Vivian to dance. He also explained that he had been tucking his shirt in. Why, when Viv saw him, he was just standing there, not tucking anything, is anybody’s guess. Maybe he was letting his manhood breathe before he zipped the ultra-tight Wranglers around it. Who knows?

When he asked Viv to dance, you know how she wanted to respond: “Get back, perv. I’ve got 911 on speed dial.”

But being typically female, her response instead was, “Sure, honey, let’s dance.” And she danced with him. He gave her his card and his phone number, not that she’ll ever do anything with it….

But that just goes to show you how amazing the male ego is. And how amazing we are for loving it. One of the biggest things we look for in a man (for many of us it’s more important than looks, a sense of humor, money) is confidence. Also defined as ego. We love the ego, can’t get enough of it.

Maybe that’s why we’re happy to accommodate any ego, even that of the 5 foot, 4 inch tall guy with the mullet who just asked me to dance. Gotta go. Can’t keep Curly waiting. He says if I’m lucky, he’ll take me for a ride in his pickup truck.