Stuck following that ‘adorable’ pal

I have a gal pal who is “adorable.” That is the No. 1 word men use to describe her. I cannot count the number of times I have heard, “Your friend Cicely is just adorable.”

Even from my ex-boyfriend.

Countless men have approached me to get to Cicely. Not only is she adorable, she went to Harvard, speaks French fluently and is a fabulous dancer. If she weren’t my friend, I would hate her guts. As it is, I kind of do anyway. In the most affectionate way, of course.

When Cicely and I go out on the town, I unfortunately am put in the role of her screener. It goes something like this:

We go to a dance club. A man asks her to dance. They dance. Cicely goes to powder her nose. The man approaches me. To ask me to dance? Nein.

He’ll say something like: “Your friend Cicely is so adorable. Do you think I have a shot with her?”

Some I can sum up quickly -- the minuscule, the hideous -- and tell: “No.”

Others I put through a brief battery of questions: What do you do? How old are you? What kind of car do you drive? Where did you go to school? Where do you live?

If the answers are acceptable, I give them an “It’s possible. You’ll just have to try your luck.”

Sometimes they are so grateful they buy me a drink. I’m only six years older than Cicely, but it makes me feel like a maiden aunt. But, eh, what the heck. I like my absinthe as much as any old spinster.

Sometimes I get Cicely’s overflow.

If a man approaches the two of us, and she is looking in the other direction or the guy loses his nerve, he’ll ask me to dance instead. Cicely’s admirers usually are of good quality, so I’m game. I had a lovely dance with a sexy Spanish gent that way last week.

The only thing that makes friendship with Cicely possible is that we generally like different types of men.

For example, she doesn’t mind men who are a little bit shorter than her, while I pretty much draw the line at 6 feet. She doesn’t have a problem with quirky, interesting faces, while I stick with the traditionally handsome masculine mugs. Perhaps this is part of the reason why she is swarmed by men while I sit there twirling my straw in my drink -- she’s less picky, and it shows on her face? Nah, I wish. It’s ‘cause she’s so adorable.

She thinks I’m not approached more because I’m so unfriendly. It’s not true. I’m only unfriendly to riffraff. We have different theories on what makes a woman attractive to men. She thinks being warm and inviting is attractive. I go the cold, statuesque route.

(My friend Eve reminded me recently that “you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” “Who wants flies?” I replied.)

Yesterday Cicely and I got in a little spat over this issue of approachability. It started when she asked a mutual friend: “Who do you think is vainer, me or Sam?”

The indiscreet pal-to-both repeated the question to me. (The pal’s response: “It’s a tossup.”) I immediately e-mailed Cicely and said:

“To answer your question, you are much more vain.”

“Says you!” she responded.

Hmpf. I can’t help being aloof. It’s my nature. There’s nothing I can do. I’ll never be adorable like Cicely.

Still, she is a good role model for me. Cicely is a study in quiet self-confidence and the rewards it brings. I think being around her helps me thaw out at least a little bit.

But if she gets even one millimeter more adorable, I’ll kill her with my bare hands.

Samantha Bonar can be contacted at samantha.bonar@latimes.com.