Men: Dating Don'ts
I'm not sure that dating in New York is harder than any other city. It's just that here, there are more people to date, hence more idiosyncrasies, more idiots, more jerks, more morons, and more bad, bad, bad nights that one wishes one could have instead spent watching "30 Rock" on DVR than out and about wearing a too-done hairdo and a bored look on one's face.
So. Men of New York, here are some basic guidelines to follow when attempting to woo a lady in Manhattan (or any of the other boroughs, for that matter, save maybe Staten Island):
-Do not bring up your gastrointestinal issues. If that pizza was too heavy or if that Coke Zero you ordered made you "feel like a volcano" inside, please keep it to yourself. We don't know what to say in return, and you've just grossed us out to the point that we will not be having sex with you that night...if ever.
-Do not tell us, within the first three dates, what age you lost your virginity and attempt to solicit the same information from us. It is creepy, and it brings up high school issues (of the virgin or non-virgin variety) that we'd rather not revisit.
-If you have asked us out on a first date and requested that we go to dinner together rather than drinks, do not split the bill evenly in your head, push the leather receipt-holder toward us, and inform us what our share is. It's tacky and rude, and a storm cloud of resentment will soon appear directly over our forehead when we realize we could have spent that $28 on our very own pepperoni pizza and a six-pack.
-Do not get drunk off of fewer beers than us and then attempt to paw us at the bar. We don't like lightweights.
-If we tell you (for whatever reason) that we will not be having sex with you, do not ask, "Why not?"
-If we are kissing for the first time, do not grab our limbs and constantly reposition them, as if we are made of Gumby-like soft rubber and wire. You may be used to blow-up dolls, but we are also not made of vinyl.
-Do not text us two hours later after we end our fifth date with a peck on the cheek. We obviously don't like you in that way. Also: Do not text us throughout the workday. We have work to do that doesn't involve reading three urgent messages about this funny thing your coworker said.
-Do not attempt to fact-check basic background information we give you on a first date so that it turns into a Lincoln-Douglas-style debate. If we say we're from the fucking Midwest, we're from the fucking Midwest! Our home state is not in the motherfucking Southwest!
-If we are making out with you, do not tell us, "Don't rip my shirt. It's Brooks Brothers." By the time you get out the "s" in "Brothers," we will have left your apartment.
-If you take us to your favorite restaurant and we ask you for a food or drink recommendation, do not say, "Um, I don't know." Just say something. Pick a dish or drink. Any dish or drink. It's your favorite restaurant, and we're trying to make awkward first-date conversation, so go for the assist and help us out here.
Now it's your turn. Comment and either excoriate me or agree vehemently with me. And always, always share your own.
So. Men of New York, here are some basic guidelines to follow when attempting to woo a lady in Manhattan (or any of the other boroughs, for that matter, save maybe Staten Island):
-Do not bring up your gastrointestinal issues. If that pizza was too heavy or if that Coke Zero you ordered made you "feel like a volcano" inside, please keep it to yourself. We don't know what to say in return, and you've just grossed us out to the point that we will not be having sex with you that night...if ever.
-Do not tell us, within the first three dates, what age you lost your virginity and attempt to solicit the same information from us. It is creepy, and it brings up high school issues (of the virgin or non-virgin variety) that we'd rather not revisit.
-If you have asked us out on a first date and requested that we go to dinner together rather than drinks, do not split the bill evenly in your head, push the leather receipt-holder toward us, and inform us what our share is. It's tacky and rude, and a storm cloud of resentment will soon appear directly over our forehead when we realize we could have spent that $28 on our very own pepperoni pizza and a six-pack.
-Do not get drunk off of fewer beers than us and then attempt to paw us at the bar. We don't like lightweights.
-If we tell you (for whatever reason) that we will not be having sex with you, do not ask, "Why not?"
-If we are kissing for the first time, do not grab our limbs and constantly reposition them, as if we are made of Gumby-like soft rubber and wire. You may be used to blow-up dolls, but we are also not made of vinyl.
-Do not text us two hours later after we end our fifth date with a peck on the cheek. We obviously don't like you in that way. Also: Do not text us throughout the workday. We have work to do that doesn't involve reading three urgent messages about this funny thing your coworker said.
-Do not attempt to fact-check basic background information we give you on a first date so that it turns into a Lincoln-Douglas-style debate. If we say we're from the fucking Midwest, we're from the fucking Midwest! Our home state is not in the motherfucking Southwest!
-If we are making out with you, do not tell us, "Don't rip my shirt. It's Brooks Brothers." By the time you get out the "s" in "Brothers," we will have left your apartment.
-If you take us to your favorite restaurant and we ask you for a food or drink recommendation, do not say, "Um, I don't know." Just say something. Pick a dish or drink. Any dish or drink. It's your favorite restaurant, and we're trying to make awkward first-date conversation, so go for the assist and help us out here.
Now it's your turn. Comment and either excoriate me or agree vehemently with me. And always, always share your own.
Labels: brooks brothers, dating, dos and don'ts, manhattan, men, relationships
posted by Jane at 10:37 PM
5 Comments:
For the ladies
- Don't ask us what we're thinking. We're not, and if we are, you really don't want to know.
I'll let the rest of the peanut gallery follow.
If you invite me over for dinner, I'm not expecting foie gras and creme brulee. But if I show up and there's Prego and spaghetti on the stove, we have a problem. Worse yet is if you bill it as your "mom's special recipe."
'do not rip my shirt' sheesh.... find me a woman who WILL rip my shirt..PLEASE
LOL
You mean i should not have sent you a text message after the show this week?
I heart you guys. That is all.
The "what ripped through me" thing.. ugh... enough said!
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