Guys, we ladies know you have them, and it's no secret. He's standing at the bar with you, looking bored and watching the game on the big screen over the top-shelf liquor while you scent the air, searching for your prey. You may think that we don't know that you're going to send him over to scope out the territory to see if we are, perhaps, interested. We know. He is your RL hunter-pet, a ferocious, cunning, or perhaps tenacious warrior on your behalf. He is your wingman.
I am now about to divulge a Girl Secret.
/looks about furtively to see if the Girl Police are listening.
Girls have wingmen, too.
Okay, we don't call them wingmen, and we almost never send them into battle, even though they can be as ferocious, cunning, or tenacious as any guy wingman. No, this would in fact pre-empt her primary class functions, which she is freakin' brilliant at.
See, here's where the secret comes in...
Wingmen are hunter pets, WingWomen are shamans.
A good WingWoman can take a hit for you if necessary, has a terrific collection of jewelry that you can use, and can and will throw a heal if the particular boss you're taking down (i.e., the scumbag Brad-Pitt-lookalike rich-as-Midas investment banker) happens to rip your heart to shreds. After the healing, then she'll let loose a flood and rip him to shreds. It's classic, beautiful, and a wonder to watch.
These magnificent and utterly unreplaceable talents are not even the most important duty of a WingWoman. She has yet another task, one that she and she alone is qualified to do.
Buffing. Especially, pre-pull buffing.
Is my slip showing? Am I wearing matching shoes? Do these earrings scream, "Pull me off!" to you? The lipstick... is it too red? Does this dress make my butt look like the backside of a barn?
See, we can ask a guy these questions until we're blue in the face, and if he is at all interested in getting some action later, he knows exactly the right answers for them. And that is all well and good. But if we really, really want a real answer, we must and should turn to our WingWoman. She is our go-to buffer. Girl, you are smokin'. Not those shoes, though - wear these. And tone down the eyeliner; you look like Buffy Does Goth. These are important... nay, vital needs that she is fulfilling. Our WingWomen are all about the details, because when one is trying to land that particularly big fish, details matter.
And if necessary, when things are looking particularly bleak, she can toss a Heroism and save the day.
"Particularly Fine-Looking Nice Guy, have you met my friend, Feathers? She's on the cover of Important and Prestigious Magazine next month for her role in the development of Important and Prestigious New Geegaw!"
Thank you, WingWoman. /buys her a beer.
I can hear what you're saying.
"This is fascinating stuff, Feathers, but what's it got to do with WoW?"
What, the whole shaman-hunter-pet analogy wasn't enough for you? Sigh. Fine.
See, here's the thing. I have decided that I am desperately in need of a WoW WingWoman. Someone who will say, "Kia, you're not wearing any pants." Or, "Kia, don't you think that it would be a good idea to take some Honeymint Tea with you before you go try to take down Ulduar?" Or even, "Kia, it really would be beneficial if you equipped a weapon before you pull a boss that spawns immune-to-arrows elemental adds." Especially one who knows my DIRE need to get Achievements, and thus would have said something before I went to Sethekk Halls to grind rep and get the finish achievement.
Look really closely... really really closely... at my left hand. Yes indeedy, Internets. That's me, Kialesse of Darkspear, standing in Sethekk Halls in front of a dead Darkweaver Syth armed with my Bouquet of Red Roses.
No, this is not a joke.
After about six deaths, I figured out when to time the Mend Pets and the Feign Deaths and the Kill Shots and so forth. Jake and I managed to take him down eventually. However, I couldn't finish the instance before it was time for me to go sing karaoke (yes, I do; I'm bloody good, and that's a story for another day), so I had to come back after about three hours and do the whole place again. This time, having FINALLY noticed that I didn't actually have my shiny purple dagger on my person, Jake and I one-shotted the nasty pest.
Therefore, this is a cry for help. Lady WoW players on Darkspear, I need your help. I'm going to be the one running around Dalaran, still looking for that last stupid carrot. Kindly pat me on the head, smile warmly, and privately mention that I'm still in Viper and that the loser gnome I'm running around with is going to ditch me when a younger, prettier, higher-DPS hunter comes along. Trust me, your assistance will be received most gratefully. I'll even buy you a beer at Legerdemain. We can ogle Arille together. It will be fun.