Posturing

Soon my daughter will be of dating age and the day is coming when I will be greeting prospective wooers at our front door.  For the sake of argument I will assume these wooers will be boys.  And like an end-of-the-world survivalist getting ready for imminent apocalypse I must begin preparing now.

I don't own a gun.  Yet.  But more on that in a moment.  My first step is to decide what type of personality I will project with these hapless lads.  Do I go with the traditional grim, stone-faced intimidator or the jolly, sure-you-can-talk-to-me confidant?  I see this dilemma as similar to the choice a newbie professional wrestler must make when entering that business:  hero or heel?

Either way, my goal in this endeavor is to ensure that these guys behave respectfully and conduct the romantic proceedings on terms agreeable to Jenna.  Early on this probably won't be much of a problem since the laws of human growth are in our favor and Jenna is taller than pretty much every boy in her grade.  This will probably hold until age 14 or 15 when the pipsqueaks start to catch up.  But I need to have my strategy in place and well-established before any growth spurts kick in.  Staying on message will be critical.

Playing the heel can be much more fun than being the nice guy.  If I had any acting skills whatsoever this could be utterly hilarious.  I don't see much need for gun ownership with our current, militia-free lifestyle but what if I started answering the door wearing a shoulder holster like I just left the set of a Beastie Boys video?  (70's lamb chop sideburns optional.)  Is there a 7-day waiting period on those?  Or should I mount a large gun rack in the living room in sight of the front entryway? 

Between my dad and my Marine friend I could probably collect enough large caliber weapons that, just on display, would scare the bejeesus out of any kid.  Throw in a little creative story-telling and the beau is toast.  "Junior, let me give you a little tour here.  This is the .50 cal I used in Columbia back in the early 90's when I took out the Cali cartel.  Let me show you this scar here..."

A path that requires fewer ATF permits would be to stage contrived, Ron Burgundy-style dioramas that spotlight faux physical supremacy.  I could remove the entryway chandelier and replace it with a boxer's punching bag.  Whenever the door rang I could quickly put on some gloves, squirt myself with a spray bottle to simulate sweat from exertion, and start slugging away while Jenna opened the door.  "... 998, 999, 1000.  Oh, I didn't see you there."  Then I'd grab ridiculously heavy-looking dumbbells that I had strategically placed nearby and start curling those.  I'd have to make sure he didn't linger lest he see that I could only muster 2 reps for show.

An even more subtle approach would be to create a "Most Interesting Man in the World" backstory combined with chucknorrisfacts.com absurdity.  Prospective dates would have to review a special website listing my "accomplishments":
- Dave Carl invented the exclamation point
- Dave Carl once won a staring contest with one of the plastinated Body World cadavers
- The Titanic didn't hit an iceberg, it hit Dave Carl's toe.  Specifically, the little piggy that went to market.
- In Transformers, Dave Carl was the stunt double for both Optimus Prime AND Megan Fox

As long as the prospective suitors retain some amount of fear of me, either due to ill-gotten admiration or the assumption of insanity, I've done my job.

Conversely, being the nice guy may require more finesse than I can muster.  With this generation I would probably have to learn to speak in texting abbreviations to make a personal connection:  "OMG, ROFL, DGTG, H&K."  I'd have to offer to chillax and call him "brah," all without snickering.  Yeah, this ain't gonna work.

So, heel it is.  I'll arrange for my own bad-guy theme music to play whenever I enter a room with Jenna and the boyfriend.  Something that instills fear and dread, like "Vader's Theme" or "Enter Sandman" or anything by Coldplay.  Er, wait, Coldplay instills fear and dread in *me* -- never mind.  I'll develop a signature move like the "Blatantly-Sending-a-Message Absurdly-Macho Crushing Handshake" or the "Arched Eyebrow of Disdain" or the "I-Was-Once-Your-Age-And-I-Know-EXACTLY-What-You're-Thinking-Hormone-Boy Glare of Death."  I'll get inside their heads and then I'll have won.