Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Date#55 - Worst Date in 2011. Period.

This guy got my number and then called me. He was from BC. He sounded fairly normal on the phone but got sidetracked by a long story about... not sure what. He didn't get to the point after 5 minutes so I got off the phone. He sent me a text the following day acknowledging his nerves got the better of him and tried arranging a date. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. However a single girl should never text and this is why: things started to bog down (i.e. Date, Time, Location); he couldn't quite make the plunge, so I deleted his messages. This got his attention enough to force his hand, and he planned a date at a tequila bar on Ossington. However, it took way too long and I began to smell a rat. Text messages always leave me cold.

He texted again in the early afternoon of date day to confirm. Which would have been great if he hadn't also asked me to describe myself. Never describe yourself by text if your pic is posted online. It will either be too modest and sound ugly or too good and sound insincere. It's a waste of time. Besides, He was trying to talk himself out of it and I should have let him. Instead I told him not to be nervous and that he would recognize me.

What showed up was a greasy thinning-haired "creative director" with a huge chip on his shoulder. He did not offer to buy me a drink. This date was terrible because he was deliberately impolite. He spoke without moving his jaw, which is totally unnerving and it indicates a very guarded nature. Men who can not move their mouths make bad lovers.

He was into rapid-fire, cleverly random conversation. Example: "It's like that episode of Perry Mason. Except without the milkshakes." It was entirely developed to keep the other person off balance. It created a lot of awkward silences...only he found himself very entertaining. Topics included: planes that use slip'n'slides to land, the marketing genius of Red Bull and his travels to Australia. If I tried to join in (as in, "I like Australia") he would immediately begin bashing the topic. For example, he ordered a tequila and tomato juice. He then went into a long story about how tequila tastes better with tomato juice as if he had invented it. When I agreed with him, saying I liked it with Clamato juice, he began to choke and spit saying it was disgusting, etc. This guy was clearly raised by wolves. Very embarrassing.

After 10 minutes of this I told him that I wasn't quite as clever and that it was getting stressful trying to keep up. And for five full minutes he acted like a genuine human being. He turned his body toward me, he spoke slowly and clearly and I warmed up. Then I made the mistake of asking what he did for a living after he told a long work-related story. At this point, the giant chip on his shoulder grew back and he mocked me for asking. I just stared at him in silence and he mumbled some job description. I can't help you if you are embarrassed by your job, boyo. That's your deal.

When the bartender cleared my first drink, I ordered water. Something about this enraged him. He said accusingly, "You switched to water fast. Why aren't you drinking". I looked at my water curiously because I was under the impression that drinking water was still an acceptable practice in Canada. "I'm still drinking. I'm just drinking water" ... Then I paused, and said "What was your real question?"

This broke him.

He squared his body to the bar, gripped the edge of the bar with both hands and seemed to control an angry outburst like the Incredible Hulk. He turned to me while grabbing his coat and said "I'm going to shove off now." I said "Ok!" with a smile. He began to make a long explanation but my eyes were drifting around the bar, "Good!" I said sweetly, cutting him off. Then I turned my back to him and picked up phone to check my messages. This caused an abrupt attitude change. He became warm and engaging again. "So...", he said "I understand you've been to 31 countries..,".

"We covered that" I said distractedly tapping at my phone.

"No, but where else would you like-" and at that point I gently put my hand over my ear and blocked his noise. He disappeared.

Full Disclosure: This date was nowhere near me, causing me to arrive early and pay for my own drink. No! This date was planned by text. Double No! This man was immediately argumentative. Triple No!

Friday, December 16, 2011

Texts from the Dead

Based on a true story.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful 28 year old woman who met a beautiful 36 year old man. They fell instantly in love and their chemistry was electric. But the man was not happy. Maybe mommy hadn’t loved him enough. Maybe daddy had hit him once too often. Or touched him. The man never said what the problem was.

The man could see clearly that the woman loved him. And for some reason, this enraged him. He sought to do everything in his power to destroy her.
He lied.
He cheated with other women.
He was unreliable and stood her up.
She cried, she begged, she never retaliated, she kept stating the obvious.

“I love you.”

The fact that she stayed enraged him further. He wanted to destroy not just her, or her love, but her hope that anyone would ever love her.
So he lied more. He would rather lie than do anything at all.
He insulted her to her face.
He cheated with more women.
He was more unreliable, showing up at her family’s house drunk at odd hours.
He ran her into the ground.
He posted nearly naked pictures of her on the internet.

All while asking her for sex in his darkest hours.

The sex relaxed him. If he could just keep fucking her, his hatred subsided. But as soon as it was over, he was consumed with hatred. So one day, he did the meanest thing he could think of; he told he was coming to visit for Christmas. He told her he had a present for her.

And got in his car and moved away. He moved to a different country. No address, no phone, no email. He simply disappeared.

It was the silence that destroyed the woman.

(4 years passed)

The woman was older and wiser. Her grandmother had died, so had her father. She had always felt uncomfortable at Christmas because she had no family but she had spent the last 4 years building her friendship base. She was dating. No one special yet, but lots of interesting people. She was looking forward to Christmas. At the very least, she was going to make the very best of it.

Then in early December the man contacted the woman. He was lonely, he was horny, and he was bored. He sent a text but did not address her by name. He did not state his own name. He wrote like he simply assumed that she was single and waiting for him. He told her missed “certain things” about her. He asked her how she was.

The woman did not immediately recognize the number. But she could sense the ground moving beneath her feet. It took 2 days for the shock to wear off. But underneath there was anger. She did not want her Christmas to be ruined by this person. She felt very protective of the new found freedom that she had gained in 4 years. She felt pain. And it caused her to feel anger.

She finally understood how the man had felt all this time. How all his pain had created his anger. But she did not want to destroy him. She felt sorry for him. She did the nicest thing she could do. She just deleted the message.

She never heard from him again.

Friday, December 9, 2011

In praise of the Average Man

We live in a Cult of the Exceptional. Everyone wants to be special at something. And by extension, everyone wants their boyfriends or husband to be special at something. It gives us a boost of self esteem at cocktail parties. It makes it easier to achieve orgasm if the guy you are fucking used to be a golf pro in his 20s. Am I right?

This essay will be in response to my previous essayWhy Handsome Men/ Alpha Males Make Terrible Boyfriends” which elicited some comments from an anonymous reader. She argued that perhaps the handsome man was just “shy” and that I shouldn’t group people into narrow categories. First of all, let me say that ALL “anonymous” comment makers are cowardly pussies. Second, if you read The Rules you would know how silly it is to confuse a man that is not interested in you, with a man that suffers from social anxiety, or shyness. It is incredibly arrogant, Single Girl, to assume that there is something medically wrong with a man who is merely “just not that interested in you”. And it is comment makers like her that are proof of the uphill battle that I face everyday with otherwise intelligent women who have the wrong idea about men and dating.

I have dated 54 different live human males and one woman recently sad to me in passing, “Why are they all bad?”. This is incredibly misguided and short-sighted given how much I have learned during this time. But it goes to show the kind of fireworks women are expecting from a simple drinks date with a stranger. The first thing that you must abandon when you try Online dating is your stupid little girl expectations. If he was such a catch, he would be married by now…or at least not divorced. And if you were such a catch, so would you, Single Girl.

If you are doing The Rules, the most you can expect from a man after a simple drinks date (Date Zero) is a second date. That’s it. If he calls within the next few days and asks you out again, then you can consider it a WILD success. If he calls within the next few days from a Turkish prison then better luck next week. But the thing to note is that even if it’s a HUGE failure, it only means that your phone stays silent. Online Dating isn’t going to be magic each and every time. And you are stupidly delusional to expect that.

Let’s not forget that men want Exceptional too. If you are looking for a single, handsome successful doctor who volunteers, goes to church and is handy in the kitchen, garage and bedroom ….then guess what? He’s looking for the same damn thing. If you are looking for a man who is rich enough to drive a Porsche, guess what? He probably wants to trade up in life, not down. This is why you must “LISTEN and OBSERVE” when on your dates as The Rules suggest. It’s a matter of BUYER BEWARE or you maybe getting into a power struggle or endless achievement contest with a man who is unsure of himself. Take note, Single Girl, that true authenticity is not flashy. Emotional maturity is not easily noticed across the room. Prudence, virtue and courage don’t make the front covers of magazines.

Case in point: I know a beautiful young woman who put a slightly-less-than-flattering pic of herself on her online profile. That, coupled with her good-but-not-exceptional-profession of “teacher” kept her inbox a little light. However, when a serious young accountant did invite her on a date, she showed up prettier and more vivacious than he could have imagined. It’s been 2 years and he still talks about how impressed he was to meet her that first night. He felt like he won the jackpot. It’s an interesting lesson.

My belief is that in the Cult of the Exceptional, the Average man is King. I want to meet a serious, hard-working family –oriented man. That’s my wish. Of course, he will come with hobbies, and small family squabbles and peculiar habits. But in truth he will be average and that will be beautiful. I don’t have too much more to say about him because there are so few of these men around. I do know that I don’t want a man that fills my friends with jealousy. I don’t want a man that is jaded or movie star handsome or drives a car that screams “I’m vain”. I want a humble honest life and I want a man that knows the value of it.

Friday, December 2, 2011

But he hasn't proposed

I hate being right all the time. I should have known better than to accept rides from strangers (at work) but there you have it. A Rules Girl always remembers to listen and observe. A gracious person remembers to never offer unsolicited advice, especially when getting a free ride.

I did neither of these things.

Let me begin by saying women in their 30s who are not married walk a very fine line. They fight to remain single, happy and carefree without appearing uninterested in marriage. They date. They remain happy and excited for friends who get married. They are lovely and charming and yet have no idea how to answer the (rude) dinner party question of “Why aren’t you married?”; which is then followed by “When are you getting married?” if she does stupidly show up anywhere with a man; which is then followed by “When are you having a baby?” if she stupidly shows up anywhere with her husband.

Negotiating a relationship – especially online – is something best done in private. But being single is like being famous. Everybody wants to know the latest development. Immediately. No matter how small. No matter how stupid. No matter how embarrassing. In fact – like celebrity – the worse the date for a Single Girl, the more social currency she gets.

For example, I once told a girlfriend a story about having to blow dry my own hair at a fancy hair salon after I unwittingly failed to make a blow dry appt. (My lady at Supercutz always made sure my hair was dry when I left). I was so embarrassed when they sat me in a dark corner of the salon and handed me a blow dryer that I had to plug in myself (after I untangled the cord) that I was actually paralyzed with embarrassment for 60 seconds. Then I started to quietly weep. This story was so bad that a dear friend actually shared it with her whole extended family at THANKGIVING SUPPER. They laughed until they wept.

This is what it is like to share dating stories. People will share your worst moments with everyone on Planet Earth.

The Rules remind us that we never discuss relationships with our co-workers or mothers. Unless you have a bonafide announcement, there is nothing to talk about. Bonafide announcements include evidence to back up your claim. Consider the following:

“Hello. This is my boyfriend, John.”
Evidence: A man stands up, smiles, shakes your hand and makes small talk about how great his girlfriend.

“Yes, it is an engagement ring. John proposed and I accepted.”
Evidence: ring that sparkles on hand

“Yes, I am pregnant. John and I are going to have a baby.”
Evidence: awkwardly gigantic stomach / new clothes that are ugly.

Everything else is hyperbole, that is; everything else is exaggeration of a fact that has not been proven yet. Telling people you are going to do something that does not happen creates undue tension. It also means you are living in a fantasy relationship. This is a relationship that exists entirely in your own head. It is often very dramatic. It always ends in tears.

From my experience, moving in with your boyfriend actually stalls the relationship. Both of you are happy to have a live-in fuck buddy but neither one of you knows what to do next. He’s getting the milk for free and you …face it, he’s not that great close up. You are not going to buy a car together. You buy pets because you are not going to get pregnant anytime soon. It drains the romance from relationship. You don’t know whether to buy curtains because in your heart, you don’t know if you are staying. Couples playing house have really empty condos. Neither one knows if they should decorate to their taste. Because they never talk about it. There is no plan.

And everyone else watching this? We can tell it’s not a love match. And so we don’t congratulate you. We don’t know what to do. We just pretend to not see what is staring us in the face. And we leave you to your fantasy relationship.

But back to my car ride from hell. We were driving along and I said:

“Is this your car?” (She had previously told me that she did not have one)

“No, this is my boyfriend’s car”

“Well it’s very nice”

“He says it’s “our car”

…long silence…not sure what response she wants from me…”Oh”…

“He wants to get married in August, but I’m like what’s the rush?”

(genuine surprise given that she met this guy 3 months ago and the last guy she was dating was actually married…to another woman)

Me: “Has he proposed?”

Her: “Well…Not properly”


“He wants to get married in August, but I’m like what’s the rush?”

“You don’t want to get married?”

“I do, but he wants to get married in August and I’m like what’s the rush?”


“He wants to get married in August, but I’m like what’s the rush?”

So I changed the subject and said:

“There’s my condo. You should buy one there too and we could walk to work. Wouldn’t that be great?”

Her: “Actually, I’m moving in with my boyfriend in January”

And here is where I should have shut the hell up. She obviously wanted me to believe that she was in a committed relationship. If she wants a fantasy relationship I should let her have it. But I had to open my big fat mouth:

Me: “Don’t move in with him”

Her: “Why not?”

Me: “Well, he hasn’t proposed…I’m trying to be a good friend to you”


I personally love it when people start to shout. It reminds me of home. It makes me wants to jump on the bed and break dishes on the floor in a really excited/psycho way.

Me: “I get it but …”

Her: “I’m not like you. I don’t believe in that Rules bullshit. All my friends have moved in with their boyfriends.”
(This is the old Everyone Is Doing It Defense employed by drunken 15 year olds)

“And how long have they been married?”


I can really feel she is on the ropes and so now I have to go in for the kill.

Like the bitch that I am.

Me: “Think about it, if he really wants to get married in August won’t he be mad when you don’t?

Her: (dead fucking silence) *

Me: “And wives usually mean babies…”


(That jumping/ breaking feeling is bubbling in me again)

Me: “Then why won’t you marry him?” (here I go… may God forgive me)


Me: “But look at your fingers. He hasn’t proposed”. And I laughed in her face.

The level of violence that came out of her mouth was amazing. She told me I was rude, that I liked conflict, that I was the Anti-Christ. No, I made that last one up. But she was really mad. It reminded me of the famous saying

“The first response to the truth is anger”.

I told her in a calm voice that she knew nothing about me (which is true) and this infuriated her all the more. She pulled over and dropped on the side of the highway and I had to walk home. I consider it my penance.

Learn from my mistakes, Dear Reader; whether you are a dyed-in-the-wool Rules Girl, or a woman living with her boyfriend and playing house, do not expect the person at the other end of the spectrum to ever understand. Agree to disagree and live happily ever after.

UPDATE SPRING 2013: August came and went with no proposal, no engagement and no marriage. He did move in but in less than six months he moved out again and the relationship was over.

* Dear Reader, men aren’t kidding when they finally DO mention marriage all by themselves. If a man walks up to you and says with a straight face, “Do you want to get married in August?” he is NOT FUCKING AROUND. Take him seriously. Especially if you are having – or just had – amazing sex. An offer is about to be on the table. He’s not going to wait forever. He shouldn’t need to convince you that August is a good month. You should be on the same wavelength. You need to actually consider the possibility of spending every non-work hour of the rest of your life doing something that pertains to him. Brace yourself because: YOU WILL NEED TO HAVE AN ANSWER. It’s like a choose-your-own-adventure book. You have two options:

Option #1: Yes.
Congratulations! This means you are now “engaged”. He will then give you a ring to prove his sincerity and call his parents.

Options #2: Every other word in every other language in the history of the world. It doesn’t matter which combination because they will all means the same thing: No. You are now back to being single. But be honest with yourself. It was you who didn't want to marry him.

Friday, November 18, 2011

The Repeat Offender

The Internet is a big place, especially for a new Single Girl who is trying online dating for the first time, or taking it seriously for the first time. At the outset it would seem impossible to see the photo more than once in your inbox. It's just too vast. The reality is there are a finite number of single men out there, and if you are doing The Rules, you are only answering the messages that men send you first which narrows the field even more. Personally, I do not even open messages that do not have a clear picture, reducing my online presence still further. I do this for two reasons: one, no need to exhaust yourself reading a message from someone who isn't serious; two, the pic is usually not clear for a damn good reason.

You may notice that the same familiar face pops up more than once. For me it always happens like this: a nice, normal good-looking guy with a stable job sends me a couple notes, gets my number, calls me once or twice and then... nothing. The momentum cames to halt. Because I date using The Rules, I have a very full calendar, but I do notice this halt in progress. The Rules calls this a "Time Waster". The Rules say that this happens when a man has another woman in his life. This makes sense. He is not entirely happy (so he went on a website) but he is not entirely unhappy (and so when it get's to the point of actually scheduling a date - which all men know is cheating - he disappears)

Except he doesn't disappear.

He re-emerges sometime later... with a message that will often read "Do you remember me?"
or "Haven't heard from you in a while"
or something equally ridiculous.

I know what you are thinking, Single Girl: "He's tried the rest, now he'll try the best".
This is not true. The nicest thing you can do is DELETE this message. Let me tell you why by repeating what I just told you...

This man is not entirely happy with his current situation and he is hoping you will have a few good ideas. And if you if you ignore The Rules and act like alpha-female party planner, you may even squeeze a few dates out of him. But it will be like walking a dog on a leash on a cold day, you will just be dragging him along on an idea his not really sold on.

If you answer this kind of non-specific message, you will be confirming to him and yourself that you really are desperate and were waiting around for his message. This will satisfy his ego; it will not make him respect you. He is not entirely happy with his current situation and people (all people, even women) in this situation tend to be assholes about it.

Delete his message until he comes up with something a more specific. You do not want a man who can not hunt. You do not want a man who does not eat what he kills. But odds are he won't.

Because he is a Dud and there is no cure for that.

Full Disclosure: Unmarried men do not consider going online to be cheating, they consider it "research". They also do not consider calling another woman to be cheating, although this is the fine line where they will feel a twinge of conscience.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Date # 54 - "RUN!"

This date was a long time coming; and so very weird that I have not had a chance to fully explain it to myself yet, much less to you, Dear reader.
This man wrote a few messages and finally asked for my number. He called me and spoke about polite subjects for a full 10 minutes. I was very pleasantly surprised at his knowledge on the local welding union; he said he was a pipefitter. Since I adore blue collar workers, I was interested. But he did not get to the point; he didn't ask me out. So after 10 minutes I said I was busy and hung up. The following day- and every day after- he sent text messages that were extremely sappy:
"Hello Beautiful / Sunshine/ Bella/ Sweetheart"
"Have a good day/ afternoon/ night"
"Hope you had a good day/ Afternoon/ night"

I am always thrilled when a gentleman is thinking about me, but since he wasn't really saying anything, I deleted the texts and I went on with my life. And the messages kept coming. For two weeks. At some point he asked by text message (!) if I'd like to meet for dinner and a movie sometime. This is a tall order for a Date Zero and completely against The Rules.

The Rules say that the first time a Sing'al (Single Gal) meets someone from the Internet it should be strictly a drinks date, no more than an hour. This works for two reasons:
1) It keeps things light and low pressure
2) nothing is worse than being stuck at dinner with someone you have nothing in common with.
Time is precious, Gentle Reader, never waste a moment with a dud.

So back to my date. A fancy date by text message is usually sent by a man who lacks the courage of his convictions. So I said yes. If he wasn't serious then neither was I. Two can play this game of chicken. So then he ping-ponged back and forth between the obvious next steps:
When are you free?
Where to meet?
What time?
Since I don't date myself, I deleted these messages upon receipt. It's only fair. So he eventually called and we decided to meet at a restaurant near me on Saturday night at 8pm. Saturday afternoon the date descended into comic buffoonery. And after 53 online dates I do not say that lightly.

Here are the following red flags in chronological order:

-He did not confirm the date at 4pm. Most men confirm the date a few hours before. This has nothing to do with The Rules, this is just something I have noticed.

-At 8pm he texted that he was running late. I deleted it.

-Then he called to tell me the same thing. I ignored it.
A Rules girl never waits more than 5 minutes and so at 8:05 I got up to leave and got talking to the bartender. He was interesting, the bar was crowded, loud and warm with a fireplace in the corner and I literally lost track of time. The bartender got me a fresh glass of water with lemon without asking and so I sipped it for a moment to be polite. That's when I noticed a text message at 8:22pm.

-Date#54 was advising me that he was in the parking lot.
What the fuck do I care? Did he need an escort? I literally laughed out loud.
I wrote back that I was in the bar to see what he would do.

-He texted that he was in the lobby, and should he wait in line?
"Wait in line"?!? What "line"!?!
This guy was so scared of me that he was making stuff up!
So I deleted it and stood up to leave, when across the bar a man waved at me. I blinked and realized that this was my date. It had been so long since I saw his pictures that I did not recognize him. Nor should I have. Because he did not look like his pictures.

He sat down and started talking about being hungry. He ordered a drink and did not offer me one. I mentioned that he could eat dinner in the bar. He looked at me very strangely and mumbled "I don’t get out much". This man had extremely sad eyes, very dry skin and something about this statement made me pause. I sudddenly had a very bad feeling. He began to talk. I was so stunned by the bad feeling that I was not listening... Until he said that he was looking for another Justin Bieber.

Wait. What?

I had been tricked. This guy was not a respectable blue collar working class hero... He was an aspiring music producer! He said that he played an instrument (not sure which one) in a couple of bands, that he was looking forward to signing his first act "Another Justin Bieber" with his partner. He was excited to tell me that - while it didn't exist yet - they had plans to build a studio in the basement of this girl's house and produce music. Music like Justin Bieber's. To get rich. It was a get rich quick scheme.

Then he started talking about another girl he met on POF six years ago who was a country singer. She was moving to Texas to further her career...

I had heard enough.

I said I was going to the bathroom. And I walked out the front door. When I was a few blocks away, I sent an apology text outlining that we did not have a lot in common. (This is true. I am not into men who are artists). He texted to ask if he could call me, which is really ironic. But it was too little, too late.

Full Disclosure: I left this date because I had an extremely bad feeling. Always follow your gut.

Monday, November 14, 2011

I ain't trying to hear that.

The more the I do The Rules, the more I find women trying to date me. No, my attraction to females has not increased. My behaviour has changed and so has my perception. I initially wanted to write this blog about the difficulty of maintaining adult female relationships in the City. But the topic does not have any more legs than the sentence I just wrote, so I got depressed and never wrote it. Let me explain: my female relationships used to be my prime motivator in life. I never thought for a second that men who hold such an important part of my world. And they still don't. It's not that I am not into men. I am. This blog is proof positive that I find the human male very fascinating. Plus, I get more action than the average single Catholic woman in the suburbs and that is saying something. And they are very fun.

I am just not in a committed relationship. But the females around me? Not the same.

Not the same at all.

Which brings me to women who want to date me. Often I meet a woman who wants to have lunch/ brunch/ drinks/ dinner/ movie/ Broadway show/shopping with me. And I always smile and say thank you and try to be as encouraging as I can. I really want to do these things. But then...between work/school/ sleep/ house cleaning/ Christmas and summer vacation there somehow never seems to be enough time to make a new female friend. This is not to say that these women do not have time for their boyfriends, they do. They just don't put such a high priority on maintaining women friends. Certainly not the same kind of priority that men make in maintaining theirs. Case in point: I once worked with a woman in her 20s who left work early to "help her boyfriend take a shower" after he got in a bar fight the night before. There are so many things wrong with this decision. Am I really going to have anything in common with the woman who makes this kind of choice?

Women are expected to carry a heavy burden in relationships. Between working, taking care of the home and raising children, the first thing to suffer is the time she may have taken to build relationships outside her immediate circle. And there is an unspoken agreement that women like me are supposed to simply accept this as a normal course of the "friendship". As a result, women who are not completely occupied with the male in their life (like me!) collect a variety of one-time wholly-unsatisfying experiences with otherwise normal women who can not commit to a weekly brunch or monthly reading club because she is "too busy". Too busy being the driving force in a one-sided relationship. It's exhausting to watch. It's also sad. The conversation circles around the man, even when he is not there. And circles around her problems with the man. Her endlessly stupid problems. Or her sex life. Her endlessly unsatisfying sex life.

In short, this women is a bad date. While it is very important to have women friends. It's not at the risk of potentially being dumped by one. And as much as she likes you, if she's straight she won't marry you, and so you will be dumped the minute the man in her life needs something, anything... Mark my words, You will be dumped. But you knew that, right? You already saw this coming....

Okay, Smarty Single, here comes my most important point...

She is also setting a bad example. The Rules advise that "we only love those who love us". Therefore, your dream man is the one who is calling you, not the one you are chasing. You don't need to be a doormat to have a relationship, although I admit it helps to get you in the door. Then again, is this really a relationship...? IF the woman who wants to date you can not "commit" to even simple things: who plans everything by text message, who is always late with a silly excuse... then what kind of relationship do you think she has built with "her man". (Because he always has that title, am I right? He is NEVER her actual husband)

In short, women that I respect and who value my precious time are rare indeed. Which is exactly what The Rules teaches us to look for in men.

My mother said something interesting to me the other day....
I was complaining about yet another female who wanted to be married...badly.

And how any man would do.

I began to stutter and choke because I literally could not find the right words.

I said "It's not"
and my mother said - simply and quietly - " she wants to make him happy?"

And I was struck because that was it. Exactly.

I used to always focus on the fact that these girls were "so amazing"; I mourned bitterly how they were throwing what they had away on someone who does not appreciate it; someone who can not respect - who can not SEE - them the way I do.

And it occurred that to me that I have been biased in a pretty typical way.

She can't see him either.

She has no interest in "making him happy" the way you feel when you are actually in love.

She just wants to get married.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Do you have a Porsche? (or, Putting a Price on the Relationship)

The Rules advise that you only need to post one picture for Online Dating. One good shot of your smiling face is more than enough. If they want more, they can meet you. But of course, this was before Facebook and iPhones. A single picture today is not good enough and men openly complain about it. Men forget they are dealing with a live women and begin to treat the process like they are ordering pizza.
The following is an actual exchange with a 40-year-old man:

Hi there!
Nice pictures and profile. I guess that goes without saying...seeing as though I'm sending you a message and all. We might have a perfect scenario here. I live in High Park and very much like VQD's but other things even more... This is the part where I shut up and see if you like mine as much as I like yours.

This is great note from John. He gets to right to the point (i.e meeting for Date Zero: a simple drinks date). Everything is right track, yes? You can almost hear wedding bells, yes? ...keep reading...

Hi John
Love to meet for a quick drink

No sexy psycho-babble for A Rules Girl. I'm busy. I only have time for serious enquiries and since he seems serious I took the time to write back with a "yes". There can be no confusion, there is no drama; if he intends to take yes for an answer he can figure it out from here.

Hi Elle,
Good to see we are on the same program. same program?
The drink is going to have to wait for a few days. Wait... What?
I'm just on my way to Sudbury for the weekend for some R&R and then a few days of work around there. Wait... Why do you think I care about your weekend plans if they don't include me?
Until then I guess we could exchange a few emails. sorry?
Mine is xxxdouchbaggery.ass
Would love to see a couple more pictures of you if that's cool. Oh! I get it! You want to masturbate in your parent's basement.
Have a great weekend. I will, John, I will! Thanks for being an honest douchebag, John!

The thing about single guys who aren't available on the weekend is that they are really married. With wives. And kids. And huge mortgage payments. And a flaccid penis' that need Viagra. And other internet girlfriends. The only thing that you need to know from this message is that he has no intention of meeting you. The Rules call what he is doing "bookmarking". He is tempting you with the possibility of perhaps maybe in the future sometime meeting you to keep the lines of communication open and the sexy pictures coming. All without even volunteering his phone number or asking for yours. It's so transparent: He could not even be clear about how long his weekend was going to be or how many days he was going to "work" there.

The unspoken threat is, maybe I will meet you for a drink, but only if you are very photogenic. (And even then, probably not) I have my own phrase for this. I call it "Putting a Price on The Relationship" and it always swings in favour of the man. He will provide very little and you will bear the true cost of the relationship. He gave you NO information whatsoever but be careful, Single Girl, because he desperately wants something from you. He wants to exchange more pictures. We all know what that means, right? Like a sociopath who collects panties from his victims, this man wants to collect sexy pictures as a trophy from the unsuspecting women on the internet. Mostly to masturbate and probably to show other frustrated husbands at the annual guys weekend so he can feel good about his sad small life.

I hate when strangers ask me for things, but I always know exactly how to handle it...

Ask for something back!

Hi John
Do you have a Porsche?
I would happily exchange a sexy pic for one of you and your brand new Porsche
Or just a pic of your bank statement will be great

The Rules advise that you delete this person immediately.
But I say, the correct answer to a mouthbreather who wants something is to happily ask for something in return. Since we are now "negotiating" rather than getting to know each other, ask for anything you want. You can not damage the relationship, there never was one.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Vera's thing.

I was very close to my grandmother. She was very rigid - not strict - but rigid in her emotional bearing. She held back her feelings because she was born in England in 1911 and that is what they did. Since my mother had to work, she and I were always together. She was a good "third" when my mother was around, for holidays and functions. She was up for having fun and going places. We often said we should get a "fourth" meaning my mother should get re-married and then the real fun would start. I'm not sure I loved her, but I was the closest one to her and she is all I had and I miss her now that she is gone.

My grandmother moved her whole life to be near me. When I was 6 years old, I was placed with a babysitter during the half day so I could attend kindergarten. She looked after a bunch of kids and stored us all in the basement while she watched soaps, only letting us in the kitchen to eat peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I could not eat them. I never tried. Her house smelled. She always yelled at me. One weekend my grandmother asked what I did in the basement and I responded, "Sometimes I cry." I truly have no independent recollection of the basement to this day. My grandmother had rented an apartment across the street and moved in by the following week. We were never apart for the next 12 years.

My grandmother died in the summer of her 100th year after 8 years of prolonged illnesses that took away her ability to speak and everything else. She asked to be cremated and it was done. While she was not religious, in the fall we decided to have a Mass in her name and I would host brunch to say a few words. I sent an email advising anyone who was interested to come. A few outside her immediate circle told me they would.

Less than two weeks before the event, I got an email in my inbox that arrived with the subject heading "Vera's thing." Immediately my heart stopped. I figured someone did not know she was dead. Then my brain flashed to the literal meaning, as in, Vera's things. I thought maybe someone was telling me to remove her belongings from the nursing home. Of course! I thought, I had not been back since the night of her death and I had to collect her stuff. Silly me to forget her stuffed animals!

But I opened it and realized that it was a response to the Funeral Mass. Someone in the email chain had changed the title of "Mass for Vera Moore 24 Sept 2011" to "Vera's thing." and was telling me they would be there. WHY? I was really insulted.

So I thought about it for a week. I thought seriously and at great length about my relationship with the people involved; about what the future would be if I complained, and what I was saying about myself if I did not. Funerals are for the people still living. Everyone wants to see a loved one squared away, but truthfully the spirit has flown. I do not think we attend our own funerals. Only those left behind do. If you are going to a funeral, you are going to support the living. If they were coming to "Vera's thing.", they were coming because of me.

But it seems they could not do that without first insulting me.

So I complained. I returned the email to the offending party and - without laying blame - asked that she ensure the person who changed the title did not attend. She admitted it was she would did it and that she was sorry but it was really my fault (not sure how she got that one in there) and that she was really busy when she was forwarded the email (still not her fault) but if I still do not want her to come that she would understand.

"Don't come." I wrote. She was not a blood relative. It's hardly the end of the world. Besides, she "would understand"...right?

I never heard from her again.

But I did hear from her father.

In the end, she was not as understanding as she led me to believe. I can only imagine the conversation, but somehow her father was to blame because he had forwarded the email to me keeping the offending subject line intact. He began that he was sorry he had done it and it ended with "under the circumstances [he] and [his wife] would not attend either". What really caught me was a line in the middle, where he said that he apologized for not taking the time to craft a proper response. I was stung. Until that moment I did not realize that he had not done that. I did not realize he was capable of more than what he did write. I had never seen that side of him. I had always assumed the limited amount he gave was his best. I have been misled all these years.

What is evident is how casually they approached this function and how quickly they blew me off. They did not want to come, they did not really know Vera, but they could not lose face and not attend. However, she could not leave it at that. She had to insult me first. She changed the title of the email to that specifically because she wanted her dad to know how little she regarded me, and she wanted him to be in on the joke. There are no accidents, there are no coincidences.

Then - when she was found out - she complained to her father so that he would write that email to hurt me. And like a fool, he did. It had nothing to do with him... and yet it did. I wonder if he would have written a different email if I had a father of my own at home to protect me. I believe he would have gone to some lengths to salvage the relationship if he feared retaliation. But then, if he had the smallest amount of respect for me, he would have sent that carefully crafted response he mentioned. When I did not do the right thing and "forgive" the slight, they decided together to sever the relationship within a few hours. I know this because he "wished me all the best". This sentence always has the taste of sour grapes. It's a response best saved for couples that are breaking up. I was shocked at the heartlessness of doing this to a grieving grandchild. This was not adult behaviour. If anything, he should have passed his regrets through my mother, to prevent doing more harm.

But I was also relieved.

In truth, the relationship was faltering for some time. I had attended a number of events for these people. I had done my best to be a good guest and yet I always felt judged. There was always something I wasn't doing correctly. I did not greet ugly strangers warmly enough. I did not smile gently when the fat one openly insulted me. Their interests - no matter how arcane - were always paramount and at the cutting edge of chic. Mine always needed hours of explanation. It was exhausting. I opted to play the buffoon rather than interact seriously with them. And when that failed to protect me, I just made excuses.

I gave a 20 minute eulogy at my Grandmother's Wake and ended with a poem that brought me to tears. It was beautiful. I could only have done this in a room full of friends. I could not have them arrive late and leave early. I could not have them insulting the waitress or looking down on the table manners of others. I could not have them being "ironic" at this function, I could not allow them to be snobs. I was looking for a way out and my grandmother gave me one. Grandma is, even now, self-satisfied and smoking in the Hereafter with shining eyes and a down-turned pout that was her way of smiling when she got her way. Back when I was a child, members of the offending family had said they were related to kings and queens of Ireland. This is likely true, but my grandmother laughed her head off when she heard it. She lived poor with three sisters, through two World Wars in London, England. She knew only too well about middle-class families putting on airs.

Someday, one of them will die. And I'll wear a red dress to the thing.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Date #53 -The Saddest Place on Earth

This man wanted me to go to a swingers club with him. He wrote in it the subject line of his first email. I am open to new things and I had been wanting to go to this place for a while, but my best guy friend would not take me because he is a prude ... and probably a communist.

But first, a quick primer on swingers clubs.
Swingers clubs are legal in the province of Ontario since 2005.
And the following is pulled directly from Wikipedia:
Swingers clubs are either groups that organize sex related activities or an establishment where patrons can engage in sex acts with other patrons. A sex club differs from a brothel in that, while sex club patrons typically pay a fee to enter the club, they have sex with other patrons rather than with sex workers employed by the establishment. Larger establishments may also include the facilities of an ordinary nightclub such as a bar and a dance floor. Each sex club sets the rules for activities which take place at club organised events. Traditionally swingers' clubs do not discriminate in regards to physical appearance or age, the average age of a swinger is 39, while the ages when people first enter the swinging lifestyle average 31 for women and 34 for men.

This man was a regular at this club. You had to be a member to even get in the door, plus cover and drinks cost a fortune. My date J. paid in cash. The husband and wife owners were busy mingling and pretty soon one of the nearly naked hostesses was giving us a "tour". The club is a converted 3-storey Victorian home. The first floor is a beautifully appointed resto lounge that also serves dinner. The second floor is not accessible without a wristband because this is where the swinging happens. You must also be naked to be on this floor. Clothing is stored in a locker. No exceptions. Floor Two is a large white open concept room with a bar at one end and a Jacuzzi and glass shower at the other. In the middle are a variety of beds covered with a white fitted sheet. The third floor "penthouse" is more intense with various toys, rooms that can be rented for the night and walls covered in black paint. Everywhere there are bowls filled with condoms and we were told that sheets could be changed upon request. I found all this incredibly interesting, especially since it was completely empty. Midnight on a Friday night and the place was totally abandoned. When does the fun start?

My date was recently separated from the mother of his very young children. He had met her at university 17 years ago and said "we don't get married on Quebec" with an arrogant air, like marriage was a silly concept. I did not argue with him. It was too loud and I did not care as long as he kept buying drinks. This wasn't a therapy session. He talked endlessly about his prior adventures at this club. He reminded me of the hilarious character in American Pie who begins every breathless sentence with "One time, at band camp..." He kept asking if I knew what went on at this club, if I had ever seen the website and how you had to be really open-minded to come to a club like this. Blah, blah, blah. Well, frenchie, where I come from we don't talk our women to death.

In short, I was bored. I stared at every individual in the club and pictured myself having sex with them. Women included. It did not help that was the youngest one in there by 10-15 years, excluding the hostesses. Single men have to pay an outrageous fortune to enter alone, if they come with a woman it is less - hence, the reason J. asked me here. I was his ticket in at a lower price. He wanted discounted anonymous sex. What a charmer.

J. interfered with my reverie when he began to talk about something new. He mentioned that during his (non)marriage, he had had a "secret" older, Colombian girlfriend for a year. That he had fallen in love with her. That he had left his (non)wife and 2 infant children to marry this woman but that she would not leave her husband and 3 daughters because - of course - she was married too!

He suspected - he continued with no prompting from me - that he was not her only boyfriend on the side but that she had always sworn she was faithful J. - to the man with whom she was having an affair. And he went on to say that after they had broken up (two short months ago) he had gone back on Craigslist and the first woman he emailed ...was her!

I could barely contain my laughter, but I managed to keep a straight face. After all, what kind of people did you expect would love a place like this?

It was clear he was trying to fake that he wasn't dying of a broken heart. He tried his best to act like he wanted to fuck me (a total stranger!). He put his arm around me. He tried to hold my hand and then looked for any reason at all to let go of it. He kept smelling my hair and telling me I smelled nice. The first time was cute, the 11th time was pathetic. I was tempted to tell him that my last boyfriend who had a hair fetish is now doing 25 to life in the penitentiary for armed robbery. (Fact.)

He got into a conversation with the (older) couple seated to our right who were (ahem) married. Immediately the 3 of them began to talk: about what goes on at a place like this, what the website looks like and how you had to be really open-minded to come to place like this...etc.

I decided to call his bluff.

"When are we going upstairs?"

"Well" he sighed and leaned away from me, "there is no rush."
Really, son? That's not what most men say.

This was my cue to make like Cinderella and run. "Wow! Look at the time! Thank you! Goodnight!"

Thirty minutes later I was tucked up in my immaculate bed reading a book with a pussycat purring beside me. Pure Heaven.

Oh! Did I mention that I stopped to get a cheeseburger on the way home? Apparently the place did inspire a craving within me.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Mr. Kiddo

The following is an actual text exchange with a 34-year-old man

Him: When are we going for the VQD
Reader Note: VQD stands for Very Quick Drink. I invented it. I copyright it.

Me: I'm usually free eves and weekends

Him: Well one of those nights, you are mine.
Reader Note: This is a non-commital answer. Warning bells! He is not as serious as he sounds. To test my theory, I write...

Me: There is a [place] at [location]

Him: That could work...
Reader Note: Second non-commital answer. The idea of a date is effectively dead in my mind. Single Girls don't text.

Him: and what are we doing after this VQD
Reader Note: If you want a sure thing, I accept cash.

Me: depends on how cute you are (read: depends how successful you are)

Him: I have a few ideas. And they involve both of us naked.

Me: only if you are very lucky (read: only if you are very successful)

Him: I should bring my horseshoe and rabbits foot then

Me: very funny

Him: do you have a blackberry

Me: only nerds have blackberrys

Him: so thats a yes then
Reader's Note: It's too bad he is a schmuck, because this is fairly entertaining.

Me: There's a great app for your blackberry. It's called an iPhone.

Him: There is a great app for you. It's called the back of my hand. (Hawt!)

Me: Biter

Him: You like biting?

Me: No comment, Badboi. I know you do.
Reader's Note: badboi is his online name. I wasn't trying to be cool and write like Avril Lavigne's first album.

Him: and so what if I do?

Me: I like being bitten. By the right person. (Fact.)

Him: Note to self...Me likey the fun kinky stuff

Me: Then why are you saying it in a baby voice? (EW!)

Him: Haha. Fine I like it fuckn kinky. That better?

Me: Yes. Better question: Do you have your own place? I live with roommates.

Him: Nadda. Ever home alone?
Reader's Note: You live with your parents?!?!

Me: Then I guess it ends here. Too bad, so sad.

Him: So I take it you're never home alone?

Me: I'm interested in sex, not running a hostel.

Him: And I want to fuck too (well, son, we all want things...)

Me: I only date guys who are successful. Sorry kiddo.

Him: Don't call me kiddo. Like you're my babysitter.

Me: You bit off more than you could chew, Mr. Kiddo.

Him: Ha. that comment tells me everything I need to know about you. Lose the Ego.

Me: I forgive you, Mr. Kiddo. Maybe I'll dress up like your babysitter for Halloween and we can work out any unresolved issues.

Full Disclosure: Mr. Kiddo began texting again on a Thursday afternoon about a week later. He did not identify himself and so I simply asked him to call after 5pm and then deleted it. He really did not want to do that so he basically ignored me and tried asking me out on a date via text message. This read: "What are you doing Mon or Tues of next week?" and "Do you want to hook up next week?". Again I deleted it. When I got up the following day he had filled my text inbox during the night with this message "??" and "So?".

Me too - Mr. Kiddo - me too... *sigh*

The moral of the story is ... there is no moral. Do not allow men to endlessly text you! It's childish, it's annoying and no grown man who actually wants to date you will rely on this technique to close the deal.

Date # 52 - The Buddy Date

This man saw my online profile and managed to schedule a date without getting my number. This is never ideal, but it's not a total red flag. It does, however, indicate a lack of commitment to something simple like a first drinks date. Or that he is married. From experience, I prefer to never agree to this kind of date, because it means that if he intends to cancel, he will send a message via internet. Thankfully, modernity makes this easy to check, but you should not be on pins and needles before a date because it's terrible for the skin.

I am very vain about my skin.

He also did not send a follow up message to confirm the date. This, together, with the no phone number IS a red flag. It's not that he is married - married men tend to be catches because another woman has already trained him in good manners- it's that he was a commitment-phobe... And before I knew it, I was on a "Buddy Date". *cue the Gilligan's Island theme music*

The Rules details are as follows; He got in touch with me, and selected the date and time, then - since he was coming to see me and not the other way around- he asked where I would like to meet. I suggested a place very close and convenient to me (because I am a Rules Girl) and he agreed. He was sitting in the bar early, he complemented the location (men love it because it is at the corner of 2 highways- Eat that Date#50!) and already had a beer going. These are great starts to any date, right?

This man was a territory rep for a home installation firm. He lived in Hamilton and he drove ...a lot. As a result, he was not physically fit. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the football game on TV and I realized that whoever did share his life better not hope for much better. He asked a lot of questions. This is great. Our conversation really flowed and he kept finding things we had in common. He told me about his hobbies: gardening, cooking, that he should really work as a chef but that his experience was in home improvement. He kept mentioning a future us, as in "I'll remember that for the next time I see you" and - like any normal Canadian woman - I began to imagine a Mike Holmes-esque future with my new ...buddy.

Then he said something that made me stop. He said that he was new in his job but that he hoped to open his own PR company, and that he was a big fan of social media.

What? You are forty, you deal in home improvement ...
and you want to be covering parties at the film festival?

Well, yes. He said that we all had a personal brand and that he would like to help people develop their "brand". I briefly shuddered. I said that I used to go to the TIFF movies but my friend got married and did not have time to do it with me anymore. But before I had the words out of my mouth, he said "I NEVER WANT TO BE LIKE THAT".

What? (for the second time) Now I am really stumped, l'il buddy-ol' pal o' mine

The waitress arrived and asked if we needed another drink. I ordered some water because I was only staying for one drink. But the Buddy Date does not operate like that, and he ordered a second beer - thus locking me into waiting for him to finish it, or allowing him an excuse to not walk me to my car. What an asshole.

He said that he never wanted his marriage to prevent him from going to a movie.

What? (for the third and final time. Follow up question: What's the point of dating?)

He scoffed at people that change after they got married. I gently reminded him that marriage is a lifestyle change and that nothing can come before building the foundation of your marriage, especially in the early years. He looked at me blankly. Then he began to argue with me, using the most reductionist arguments.
(I guess he was surprised that his ol' buddy did not agree with him).

"So you're saying that I can't go to a movie if I'm married?!?"
"Well, you are not being fair, that is not exactly what I said." We both knew he was deliberately trying to misunderstand me.
Me: "Did you not hear what I said?"
Him: "No, I heard you."
Me: "But you don't believe me..."
And he didn't have to say anything because I saw it in his eyes. His beady little eyes.
You see, I said, this is why you are not married
(Buddies are supposed to be honest, right?)
and the hard look in his fat face got even harder.
I told him I was "gonna wind it up" and got up and left.
Thanks L'il Buddy for sabotaging this date.

Full Disclosure: There may be larger forces at work here. There was a point early in the date where he mentioned his hobbies and then said that "[his] friends must think [he's] gay". This is a major red flag on a first date. When people mention things like a hypothetical, it's to convey a deeper truth that they themselves can not face. Dear Reader, if a first date ever mentions a deal breaker like this (i.e. I'm looking for a man, he's also looking for a man) then immediately make your excuses and leave. Do not ask any questions, just go. Straight men to not make this comment on first dates with women they are trying to score.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Date # 51 - The Mouse Stops For No Man

This date was my first experience with deliberately ignoring phone callsPlease note, Dear Reader, that The Rules NEVER indicate that you should be a pain in the ass. At the same time, you should never be too available too a man.

This man got my number within four emails and called during daylight hours. However, this is the bare minimum that a Rules Girl should expect, you should not jump on every call you get. For whatever reason, I decided not to answer it. He left a nice message, but I was truly busy with the fiasco of Date #50. Ironically, he called a second time while I was waiting for [rhymes with fenk] (see Date#50) to call and so I answered it.

He was adorable but he had no plan except that he was willing to come out my way. I asked him to meet at a great place on College but car trouble prevented it. I called to cancel and he was a little disbelieving. I didn't blame him. I hung up and concentrated on the problem at hand. I figured that was it. But he called back to offer assistance and when I got that message the following day, I thought it was sweet. I sent a text to re-schedule and he responded favorably.

He was early.
He was polite.
He was a lawyer.

The first 5 minutes were pretty bad. He seemed very nervous and quiet and I briefly considered making an excuse and leaving. But then I asked what he did for a living and when he said "lawyer", suddenly he had a lot to talk about! I was thrilled to be on a date with a man who had an actual job. He warmed up but always stayed very polite. He was a gentleman. He reminded me of Forrest Gump. This is not an insult. He was open to new ideas (i.e. he did not mock me when I said I drove to Graceland and stayed in roadside motels - which was an experience I loved, and that most people poke fun). He fascinated me with a long story about watching "A Fish Called Wanda" twice a day with his brother and learning to speak basic Russian in a Montreal bar while getting a Master's degree in Public Policy. These two stories are charmingly inter-related. 

After 60 minutes, I called for the cheque because there was an evil a/c vent pointed right at him and despite being cold I could tell he would have stayed longer (sweet). As we parted I told him to call me. He said he would, but then he sent a text message that night. It said that it was nice meeting me and if I wanted to go out again, then I should let him know. 
This is less than ideal. I want a man who knows he wants me, not a guy who needs encouragement to do basic things. So I did the nicest thing I know to do in this situation. I deleted the message and I will continue to hope that he calls with the intention of asking me out. But it may not matter because Date # 52 is already booked for tomorrow night.

And I decided that I am going to be artifically inseminated.

Full Disclosure: Date #51A
Well, colour me surprised. This man not only called me and asked me out. He showed up early, with minimal discussion and dressed better than when I first met him. He had yards more game than I first imagined.

He bought me 2 drinks and mushrooms neptune which he allowed me to devour by myself (smart man). Since he was a lawyer by trade - a civil litigation lawyer - he proceeded to fill the next ninety minutes by arguing finer and finer points of minutae with me. He simply could not help himself. It was totally adorable... but exhausting. And I was into it, I really was, if only he was not still in love with a woman who broke up with him 3 months ago.

They were both atheists (How do they meet each other?).

When he leaned in for a kiss goodnight - truly adorable - I discovered that he smoked, too. That and the no-God-thing is probably a dealbreaker. Oh, win some, you lose some, you burn others at the stake. Just sayin'.

Still More Disclosure: I thought this man had moved on, but I think he just went on vacation. He texted after 10 days (on a sunday night) asking if I wanted to go for a drink sometime in the next week - but he prefaced that with "My week is really hectic". It goes without saying that I do not care because everyone's life is hectic. Except mine. I work hard at having a calm life. And yes, this makes me a better person than you.

When I deleted the text, as he knew I would, he called on Wednesday (three days later). He called at 11pm at night and he left a message. He did not mention a hectic week in the message. I wonder what changed? I deleted that message too because I did not want to go out with him again. And truly he did not want to go out with me, or he would have called earlier, at a better time and made sure it happened rather than letting it die on the vine.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Date#50 - Rhymes With Fenk

This was my first eHarmony date. Well, almost.
The eHarmony method for online dating is called "guided communication" and it works like this: He wrote me pre-screened questions, then the personality stuff, then three pre-screened open-ended questions, then open mail. So until that point I really knew nothing about him. He sent 2 messages and then asked me for my number. He called me on Monday night for a Thursday night date. He had a high pitched, feminine voice and a strange name (rhymes with fenk).

I knew right away it was going end in madness because he started off by saying the one thing you should never hear from a prospective date: "I'm just at the airport and I'm about to catch a plane but I thought I would give you a call". I wonder if it is as awful to say as it is to hear. To all the men out there let me just say, my father invented "I've got to catch a plane". And he was an ACTUAL Aeronautical Engineer who worked for the Pentagon and then the CIA. But the result is the same. He was never available for anyone, not even himself. He died wildly successful but alone. But back to my date...

He said he was leaving on a Tuesday but returning Thursday and could we meet then? He mentioned meeting at 7:40 or 7:45. I found his time specificity strange but let it pass. He said he was open to coming out to my area. I repeated where I lived in the west end and he confirmed he could come out there. This part is important, Dear Reader, because it comes up again later. He said he'd call me Thursday to firm up plans. Thursday was a big day for me because I already had a quick party after work. That and this potential date warranted my very first blow out. So with perfect hair and perfect lips I waited with baited breath for his phone call.

And at 4:15 I got a text asking where I'd like to meet.
Now, two things are important to note at this juncture, Dear Reader. The first is that The Rules say it's okay for a man to book a day and time and not tell the location. This is from the days when men picked women up. The location is his responsibility (unless he specifically asks) and yours is to look cute. The second is a man must come out to see you. It's never okay for him to expect you to fend for yourself. Well, I did what any Rules girl would do and I texted that he should call after 5pm.
He indicated that he was on a conference call until 5:30 and could he call then? (warning# 1)
I said sure, and he called at 6:07pm. (warning #2)
I missed the call (Fate!) and called him back. The Rules say that you can only call back to confirm meeting plans. He said that he was finished his work day but he was going to go for a 30 min bike ride. (oh, am I bothering you? As if)
He asked where I wanted to meet and I said that I was still in the financial district if he wanted to meet downtown.
Well, No, he said. He was home now. Where else could I meet? (Please note, this is becoming dangerously close to me dating myself - warning #3)
I choose a Keg at the corner of 2 highways in the west end. Men from Niagara Falls have complimented this choice for it's convenient location.
There was a pause, and then...He asked if I drove. (Uh oh)
Well, he began, he wanted to meet somewhere closer; he was on the other side of the city, you see... and could I meet him... (he never mentioned a location) at 7:45?

For some reason, the oddly specific timing seemed funny to me. It was very obvious that he was trying to fit this "date" in before something else in his busy schedule, but after the bike ride. Stifling giggles I said, No. Given the circumstances, the location I mentioned was the most convenient for me. I simply could not make it anywhere else in the city in the time allowed. I felt like I was on a episode of "Minute To Win It". I mean, how many locations can this guy kibosh?
He got very angry, very quickly. (uh oh)
What do you mean? He asked angrily, "under the circumstances"?
Well, I gently explained, it was less than 1 hour to our "supposed" date and we had yet to choose a location.
He paused briefly and stated with an I'm-over-it attitude: "You know, I'm gonna pass" (he's gonna pass on a date that he didn't plan?). The idea that he was going to pass on a date that he had initiated again struck me funny and I began to giggle.
"Ok" I said and clicked off while he was still talking. Then I went back to the party I was already at.

It is important to note, Single Girl, that any man who would choose a bike ride over a potential date with a real live girl is already getting his pussy from somewhere. More to the point, he didn't want to meet me because he couldn't control me; because I wasn't at his beck and call. In both cases, I dodged a bullet.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Date#49 Competitive Men Choose Activity Dates

This man saw my dating profile on POF and he wrote me a couple of emails.
He asked me for a drink via online message on a Wednesday night and I accepted on Thursday. I strongly recommend that you do NOT do this, Single Girl, and keep to the three day Rule. Otherwise, it causes a mad rush of telephone calls that just end up being confusing and ill-planned. This is exactly what happened. His email was not specific and it was a question bulked in with a bunch of other questions...

Can I get your number? Yes.
Do you want to go for a drink this weekend? Not specific enough.
Do you have any other pictures? No.
...The best thing you can do in this case is politely decline with "Thank you but I already have plans" and hope he ups his game the following week.

Instead, I stupidly agreed and provided my number.
He immediately started texting on a Friday morning during work hours. Another bad sign. I ignored it (Single Girls Don't Text) and at 9:30 am he actually called me. I told him I was interested but that I was at work and could he call back after 5pm? I figured he would get all irritated like most men do when you point out they are not the centre of the universe and/or god's gift to women...but he surprised me by being quite apologetic and then said something that made me furrow my brows "I forget that most people are working right now". I let it slide and hung up. He texted again saying that I had a nice voice and repeated: "I forget that most people have regular"

Now, I know when I am being baited.
I just wasn't interested in him enough to ask what the hell he meant. He seemed eager to spill, so I'm sure he will bore me to tears with whatever story he wanted to tell on the date, provided he plans one. The ball was firmly in his court.

I promptly forgot about him and was walking up Spadina at 5:30pm listening to music when he called again. He broke all the cardinal rules of a proper dating-planning phone call:
He called from a outdoor concert. Too Loud.
He called when he was with friends. Too Insecure.
He called while drinking. Too Stupid.
He wanted to meet on Saturday and play some pool downtown. I said I preferred something closer to (my) home. He countered with "Let's go to Taste of the Danforth". I said I free on Sunday, not Saturday. He said 4pm. I said 8pm. He said that it closed early on Sunday. (This is a lie). I said"Fine. Where?" He mentioned a street corner...

Let me jump in here, Dear Reader, and explain something very important.
Never - under any circumstances - will you EVER agree to meeting on a street corner. There are the obvious reasons (i.e. safety, weather) and then there is the real reason. Taxi cabs do not even take requests from people who want to be picked up at street corners. If a cab company will not take that request, then neither will you. If the man can not find a pleasant establishment to meet you in, he is not the man for you.
I shot him down right there and then: "No. You have some homework to do. Research a spot to meet me at and then call me back. I am not meeting on a street corner." He got off the phone real quick.

Surprisingly, he called back the following afternoon and asked me to play pool downtown that night at 8pm. Nothing about this fit The Rules, so I stupidly accepted. I got there late due to traffic and parking. He was early because he walked there.

That is right, Single Girl, he choose a place that was convenient for him. No surprise there. He had been breaking my boundaries and exhausting me from the beginning, and it was right then that I realized he was competitive and controlling.
Him: I only want to play three rounds of pool, because after that I get bored.
I call this "putting a time limit"
It is a subtle way to control the date and make the other person aware that they are not in control. I made a mental note to end the date after 2 rounds of pool. Which I did. Just to fuck with him.
Him: I have a motorcycle.
Me: I have my motorocycle licence.
Him: But do you have a motorcycle? What's the use of a licence without a bike?
Him: I have a condo.
Me: I have a condo too.
Him: You have one but you don't live in it?
Him: I never want to go to Europe.

And right then and there I knew the date was dead.
I paused slightly with a pleasant smile on my face, thinking how I this would sound on my blog, and he must have felt he won because then he went for the attack:
Him: I haven't had time to memorize your profile but I think you went to 31 countries or something...yeah, I guess someday I will go to paaaahhhris or iiitttallly (dragging out the words in an insulting way) but I have just never been interested in Europe.
It was the equivalent of saying "I like to eat rotten food". I was immediately turned off. The unspoken threat was "I am undermining everything you have ever done/accomplished. I will never find value in the things that you like".

In conclusion: He had short man syndrome. See dictionary- Napoleon complex is an informal term describing an alleged type of inferiority complex which is said to affect some people, especially men, who are short in stature. The term is also used more generally to describe people who are driven by a perceived handicap to overcompensate in other aspects of their lives.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Why Very Handsome Men/Alpha Males Make Terrible Boyfriends

They Do Not Have To Try
Handsome men have women talk to them - out of the blue - all the time. All kinds of women. All the time. Handsome men have the pick of the litter. The older they get, the more successful they become, the better it is. Under these circumstances the art of the romance is quickly forgotten. Because they are handsome, women don't demand it and men gladly ignore it. He does not want to date you - since sex is not dating - and dating would require effort.

They Are Impossibly Stupid
You always have to repeat yourself in the presence of handsome men. They never listen to a word you say. No one has ever required that they actually handle or fix anything like an adult. Women do everything for them until they become so sedate in their world, they are literally helpless. They do not have to listen, they do not have to learn, they do not have to do anything of value to have their needs met. They have dreams that they will become a well-paid male escort to wealthy women but since they are terrible in bed, this dream will never become a reality.

They Are Only Concerned About Their Own Orgasm
Sex with an available mate is sweeter when it was worked for. Nothing in life this important should come easily, but for handsome men it is readily available. This makes them restless. If there is no challenge, then they only see as far as their own orgasm. As a result they are terrible. They kiss like monkeys, they grab and crush and mangle your body. They have no idea where the female clitoris is, much less if they should touch it or why. They consider foreplay jumping on you in the hallway in their underwear. Have you ever been kissed so hard that he ground his teeth against yours? I bet you it was a handsome man who did it. Sex is with the lights off. You could be anyone and the emphasis is not on talking. It starts at full speed and usually lasts about 2 minutes. Was it good for you?

They Live In Squalor
Dishes in the sink, a filthy tub and toilet, an unemployed roommate in the extra bedroom that you have never met...This is how handsome men live because they do not have to build a proper nest to attract a suitable mate. This is against nature. Nothing about this says "long term" and yet they have long lines of women waiting to risk fungal infections in his presence. They offer to do his laundry, pick up some groceries and pretend like they don't mind when he kicks them out when something better comes along. If he was trying to impress you, he would be installing the latest speaker and hardwood floors. I know a man who began building a second bathroom in his home when he met the woman he intended to marry. He didn't tell her this, of course, he just asked her if she liked "pot lighting" one day while they were driving. She asked, what's pot lighting? They are still very happily married.

Peter Pan Isn't Sexy
There comes a time to put childish things away. No one wants to live with the boy who would be King forever. Fanciful dreams eventually have to lead to something or go somewhere and in the meantime someone needs to bring in a paycheque. This is not a buzzkill, this is what grown men do. They put or shut up. Handsome men endlessly moon about what could be, or what they are gonna do, rather than working at it. Subsequently, the conversation never manages to veer around to you. Or your successes. Or your wants and needs...etc. He talks until he feels like eating or fucking and then the opportunity is lost.

Bigger Better Deal
This is the restless, jittery quality that some handsome men and most alpha males seem to possess. Knee shaking, darting eyes, ceaseless crackberry...these are the hallmarks of a man who is looking for a Bigger Better Deal. He is not satisfied with you. He is not satisfied with himself. If you are the type of girl who is hoping to be treated well, avoid this man at all costs. Nothing will ever be good enough for him and you will exhaust yourself trying. Yet these men always have girlfriends. Why? Because she doesn't care, either. She is doing the same thing to him. Becoming a jaded version of yourself will protect you when around these handsome men, but who needs to make themselves bitter to have a relationship that doesn't hurt? Not you, Single Girl.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The Bachelorettes Are Not Alright

Bachelorette Ashley has fallen for Mr. Wrong.
Mr. Wrong describes himself as "a 30 year old child". Coincidentally, he also has a child of his own.

I have never watched the Bachelorette before but I can tell you right away that the premise is wrong. Women can not court men. However, she can make herself available and allow him to sweep her off her feet. I imagine that is how the show would work if The Bachelorette had met The Rules. Instead, we have the following mistakes made by an otherwise capable women.

The Bachelorette allowed herself to become emotionally involved in a man she just met, who did not care for her.Ashley mentions Mr. Wrong's name so often that I was tempted to invent a drinking game where I take a shot of alcohol everytime I hear her moan it plaintively to the full moon. "Mr. Wrong, come back to me..." This is the equivalent of laying down in the street and wondering why your clothes are dirty. Stand up, shut up and let him come to you. If she hadn't tried so hard to engage him, he may actually have tried to win her. This is a saying "men want what they can not have". No, we all want what we can not have. It's how emotionally immature people meet and marry to breed more emotionally immature people. Stop the cycle. In truth, she probably was more hung up on him because he was running away from her. Do not get bitter; just smarten up and stop being such an emotional train wreck because you are wasting precious time.

The Bachelorette asked overly personal questions before it was polite to do so.
Hear Ye, All Women! You are not in position to demand answers on everything when you just meet a man. You have secrets and so does he. Questions like "What is the hardest thing you have ever lived through?" and "Tell me about your divorce" are not first date conversation. Neither is asking about a man's child. Children and family are off limits unless volunteered. You are entitled to the truth upon making a new acquaintance, not a CSI profile.

The Bachelorette volunteered far too much, far too soon.
Do not answer questions you have not been asked. Do not treat your boyfriend like your sister. Think your thoughts rather than saying them for a change. Extreme details are something all single girls should get out of the habit of sharing with strangers or new friends. No one really likes that much honesty. Telling a group of men who are vying for your attention that you are broken-hearted over the recently departed Mr. Wrong is a sure-fire way to over-share and make yourself look silly. This brings me to my final point...

The Bachelorette does not love those who love her.
If I had 7 eligible bachelors and only room for one husband, I would be looking for reasons to disqualify them. Allowing a man to take the lead and disqualify himself would be a blessing rather than a curse. Mooning after Mr. Wrong long after he has flown the coop is a classic case of crying over a door closing and not noticing the 7 doors still open. A Rules girl knows better. A Rules girl knows in her heart that she is a blessing to any relationship, but only one lucky guy will get her. When The Bachelorette revealed too much, the men reacted in anger (read: jealousy). She damaged her image in front of them. They did not value her honesty because it flew in the face of how much she valued them. If you care about a relationship, you do not throw out emotional bombshells "just because". They could have gone on merrily never knowing that she almost threw them over for a total jerk. No harm done.
But now she has a need to tell eligible men about it?! WHY?
They were concerned that she was just a silly child and antics like that indicate she is.
If you need to vent, Single Girl, write in your journal. If you have a secret to share, call your sister. Unless he wants to be your boyfriend, then he is not interested or entitled to your baggage.

A Brief Note on Statements as Questions
My suspicion is that single girls volunteer too much, too soon because they are clouding questions as statements. Saying a statement like "I was really in love with Mr. Wrong" is a weak attempt at getting a man to declare his feelings for you. Statements as questions always back-fire. We do it because we are scared, and we always hear the wrong thing as a result. Instead of hearing, "he was a jerk" and "I would never do that to you" - which is what The Bachelorette was hoping to hear - the men reacted in a jealous rage and one silly fool gave her an ultimatum. She was right to call his bluff and load him on the boat, but she could really have avoided all that drama by keeping her insecurities to herself.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

The Rules Put All Men on an Even Playing Field

The Rules say "We only love those who love ourselves".
This means that among the many thousands of men out there, a girl does not need to exhaust herself wondering who likes her since there are quantifiable milestones against which to measure a man's interest. His actions speak loudest. The man who walks across a room to talk to you, who buys you a drink and asks for your number is the man who likes you. The others just aren't that into you. The End.

By that rationale, any man in the world has a shot at any woman in the world.
If he behaves decently and clearly, then every Rules girl will sit up and take notice. She will not be chasing other men in the room or trying to catch someone else's eye when you are talking to her. She will not blow off your planned date at the last minute for someone else. She will not burden you with a bunch of personal nonsense before you are ready.

I went out with some friends last Friday night and over the course of the evening 3 men bought me a drink. The first man was a very sweet older man. Not sure why I caught his attention but he sent a drink over and I thanked him graciously. The next man was a friend of a friend. He was very sweet and only spoke to me for a moment. He could be married, widowed or gay. I have no idea because a Rules girl does not quiz strangers on personal matters. Again, I thanked him warmly just once and when he left I went back to what I was doing. Finally, as I was walking out I ran into an old friend who is currently in an on again/ off again relationship of his own. He bought me a drink and we had a good conversation. That's it. Then I went home.

Compare these lovely men with a certain ladykiller (we will call him Johnny Utah) who I met the same night. While joining a friend outside while she smoked, I was introduced to Johnny Utah. I recognized his name because he had asked me to be his Facebook friend a while back but I (politely) declined because I do not allow strange men to get off on my page thank-you-very-much. Besides, his reputation already precedes him. I happen to know that he has a multitude of females he is currently seeing. One such female caused such a jealous ruckus the previous weekend that she had to be escorted outside to cool down. I do not need that kind of drama. This man - who was not really that good-looking - had all the confidence in the world and he knew that was attractive to women. This type of man is dangerous, Single Girl; Be Warned!

To recap, he did not walk over to talk to me in front of others, this man did not buy me a drink, he did not ask for my number. Instead, he bragged about how many ex-girlfriends he had, he spoke poorly about girls who made the mistake of falling for his charms and he spent a good amount of time leering down the top of my corset. He had the decency to tell me I looked beautiful - but really - I was already telling myself that so it was redundant. I casually looked around. He was pulling the whole James Dean-esque "I'm so unattainable" nonsense - in short, he was an asshole - and I realized that the other girls were eating this up! As a good Rules girl, I politely excused myself and went back to what I was doing.
First thing Monday morning, I received a message from him via Facebook.
"Hi Beautiful"
Let's analyze this, shall we? He didn't want anyone else to know he was sending private messages and he got around this by creeping me on Facebook. This isn't sweet, it's predatory. Furthermore, it's not a question, it's a statement. If he wanted an actual response, he would have send an actual message. He was trying to get something for nothing. He was trying to get me to waste my time tapping out a converation-starter while he masturbated in his parent's basement. I deleted it.
Then he he sent a Friend request.
I (politely) declined it.

Let's compare this to the message I received from the second man who actually bought me a drink.
First, he sent a Friend request. He did not wait until Monday to seem "cool". He sent it on Saturday. It was there when I woke up. After I accepted, he sent a little message saying that it was nice to meet me ...etc.
I waited 24 hours and responded a quick little note thanking him for the drink.
He followed up with a witty one-liner and I left it at that. If he wants to ask me out, he knows how. I don't need to hound him with silly text messages asking him "How was your day?" to remind him of my presence. That's annoying. It's also transparent. He knows what you are doing. It doesn't come off as sweet and genuinely interested like you were hoping, it comes off as needy.

Single Girl, the man who likes you and treats you like a lady may not be the most handsome guy in the room, but they call the others "ladykillers" for a reason. If you continue to become emotionally invested in men who are not that interested, then you will be old and bitter before your time. I have good dating karma because I do The Rules. Continue to look at the situation with clear eyes and full hearts and you can not lose.


It was something of a surprise when the man showed up at the door.
If this was the same man, the same policeman, the boyfriend of the bridesmaid who had already pulled her aside during the extreme bridal shower and told her that she had cheated on her current boyfriend. Cheated when they were on a “break”. Cheated but he did not know it. He was still her boyfriend, after all. Today, here at the wedding, he was her boyfriend. But then there he was at the wedding, left alone at the crucial time between the church and the reception… and he was on the hunt. And she was alone because she was not a bridesmaid.

She did not know why she was not a bridesmaid. She suspected it was one of two reasons. One, there were already a perfect square of four girls and four boys available for her impeding nuptials. Or Two, - and this is the reason she believed in her heart, as if the first reason wasn’t bad enough – that she was bad luck, the black death of marriage. She had never herself been married. It was merely that she had been included in two weddings previously, as a maid of honour and a bridesmaid respectively, both of which had not gone forward. Two broken engagements with the only thing in common being she, herself, Elle. As such, she did not blame the current bride for not including her in the sacred bridal shower. She was delighted in her sad way to be asked to do a reading and nothing more was ever said of the fact.

The cheating bridesmaid's boyfriend was handsome in a suit.  He complained that he had not even met his girlfriend’s parents. Elle silently nodded to herself. He mentioned that they had been dating two years and still no parents. He didn’t know it yet, but there would be no point in meeting her father. The girlfriends’ father was a Muslim man and expected his daughter to marry the same. The boyfriend started to ask what type of relationship disallowed meeting the girls’ parents, mystified, more talking to himself in the bright light of the wedding hall. Elle shook her head, still silent. When he asked her what kind of man she was interested in, she asked if he would like to sit down. Mostly to reduce the spectacle of this tall gorgeous man in a well cut suit talking with her. She couldn’t remember why she had started talking to him in the first place, except that he had looked lonely without his bridesmaid girlfriend busy doing sacred bridesmaid things. Now Elle felt she had overstepped some border and was deeply embarrassed. It was doubly ironic that they sat down next to her own mother who required an introduction. Now, he had effectively met Elle’s parents since her father was dead. In the space of a few minutes, she had exceeded the familiararity that the girlfriend and boyfriend had not been able to bridge in two years and the conversation lagged as her face turned red.

A month later, Elle was in the kitchen with a friend when the man knocked on the door. From the kitchen window she saw the broad shoulders, high and tight haircut and official-looking blue uniform of the tall man. Immediately she slid to the floor.
“Oh, shoot! It’s the guy from the wedding! Go answer the door”, she giggled.
“What? Why?”
“Just go answer the door,” she wheezed in desperation, “and if he asks for me, tell him I have moved away”.
Her friend angled her neck to get a view out the window, but started toward the door when the doorbell rang.
“Moved where?” said the friend. She knew this wouldn’t work.
“Tell him I enlisted in the Reserves and went to Afganistan” Elle shrieked as she raced upstairs.
The door opened and the man’s anxious eyes searched her face. He was much older than she had expected. Perhaps by as much as twenty years. Her throat tightened. Something was wrong here.
“Hello?” she said.
The man did not find in her face what he had been looking for and he straightened up. A veil fell over his face that made her friend want to run upstairs and grab Elle and drag her to the door, if only to ease his suffering.
“Hello. Is Elle here?” he wanted to say more but censored himself.
“No, I’m sorry, she moved away”
“Moved away?” he repeated and started looking at the house in total, above and to the sides, as thought there would be some sort of obvious structural reason for a move.
“Well, not moved away. Yes, she…enlisted in the Reserves and went to Afganistan”
This was a mistake immediately. This was an enormous mistake.
His face froze and looked stricken. He searched her eyes for truth but his eyes were glassy and not really looking at all.
She wanted to speak, to correct this lie but he was far too quick for her. He whispered a word of thanks and turned on his heel, beret in hand, and marched to his car.
From the bedroom, Elle heard the car. There was no mistaking it, the outrageous engine that sounded like a Harley. She rushed to the window but she didn’t catch a look at it. She stayed at the window for a moment, lost in thought. Thinking of him…
Elle came down stairs slowly and smiled at her friend. The friend smiled back.
“What did he say?” asked Elle lightly, her mind in the past, grateful to be rid of a potentially embarrassing situation in the here and now.
“Oh, nothing. He seemed surprised… but he just left”.
“Good.” said Elle.
It was not until later, after the friend had said her goodbyes and left, that her mind was called back to that moment when the man straightened up, when she noticed that his uniform, while official, was not a police officer’s uniform at all. That on his left breast, he had a small board of metals. He wore a beret, not a hat. That he was a soldier.