There she is, stunning as ever.
Eyes blue as the sea and hair put up, in that way you love.
She's the one.
But here comes life's middle finger, otherwise known as boyfriend.
A solution I hear all too often:
"She has a boyfriend? I have a goldfish. I'm sorry, I thought we were talking about things that didn't matter."
Or the more simple and popular:
To my fellow men:
Is there no honor?
Creepin' up on another man's woman doesn't make you cool, or a player, or brave.
It just makes you an ass.