Leaving the news kiosk empty-handed, I then began to consider all those morning-fresh women about me – the ones who were just hustling off to work. Was it possible these smartly dressed, seemingly erudite ladies genuinely admired men of such interests? Did they find appeal in the man who spends his nights battling wizards or following the careers of here today/gone tomorrow rock bands? The mix of magazine articles concerning sex, pop, fashion, and gadgetry would certainly suggest they do, but I knew from my own research – sometimes straining, sometimes rewarding – that these women have generally let themselves slip into a state of lament and malaise. ‘Where are all the real men,’ they have too often asked me while leaning upon my closing-time shoulder, and it is with a consoling pat of the hand that I say, ‘Why, I’m right here, my dear. I’m right here.’

     Now, before anyone should presume I’m some sort of smarmy misogynist, I should like to point out that I don’t fancy myself as a wolf on the prowl but simply as a man out of time. That is, like the men of yesteryear who acted like men and dressed like men, I consider myself to be an average sort and of average romantic ability, but because there are so few of us about these days, women tend to find us fascinating and are therefore drawn to our kind. ‘We miss the romance,’ they tell us. ‘We miss being across the table from men in tailored clothing, men who can converse on art and literature instead of ‘the game’,’ and, to whit, it can be said, they miss the sophisticated world.

    Here at The Cad, we empathize with these women, and it is for this reason that this publication is dedicated not to vile seduction of women but to the romancing of them - to making them feel special again. Therefore, our goal is to create a league of gentlemen who will look into their mournful eyes, take up their warm hands, and say, ‘Poor, poor thing. I hear you, and I understand.’

     History, of course, is against us in this endeavor as it has made the cad out to be a rather disreputable fellow. When one hears ‘cad’ one will certainly think ‘scoundrel’, but here at The Cad we believe that one is only a scoundrel if he doesn’t virtuously admit to being a cad. Women, we aver, shall never be given false statement or wooed by trickery and pretense, for it is of the utmost importance that the cad, the modern cad, always remain the gentleman. When, for instance, the lady asks about the possibility of relationship and commitment, the cad must say no, and if inquiries are made about the existence of other lady-friends, he must be forthright. And though his answers may lead to an abbreviated evening, the cad must accept the lady’s wishes with a bow, for the desires and emotions of women always come before those of the cad. He exists solely for her pleasure and not his own, and, by design, he is a servant of the fairer sex and not its master. The cad’s role is therefore a simple one: celebrate the woman. Share her pain and her joy. Give her romance and the promise of a better tomorrow, even if it is for one night.

     Without dubiety we cads have our work cut out for us. There are millions of women out there to be wined and dined and only so few of us who can respond to the call. It is therefore The Cad’s goal to enlarge our ranks - to turn you, the cargo-pantsed man-boy, into a cosmopolitan sophisticate so that women around the world may once again enjoy the company of a well-dressed, well-versed, and well-behaved gentleman. And who knows? After a few years of cad-ship, you may even find the one girl who’ll slip her arm through yours in that just-so manner, who’ll pull you close in that just-so way, who’ll dazzle you with a smile heretofore thought impossible and unknowable, and you’ll find you are no longer walking down the street toward your apartment, but toward love, marriage, and bliss. Yes, The Cad knows it will lose another reader on that evening, and our ranks will be diminished by one, but certainly it will be a small price to pay for the happiness of yet another woman. One who has been lucky enough to find not her boy, but her man.