Tag Archives: dating stories

Bullet Point Tuesday: 5 Things You Don’t Do When You Meet A Guy You Like

You’d think that when I actually find a guy who I connect with, I’d play it smart.

Think again.

I met a guy when I was out last week, and much to my surprise, hit it off with him. We could talk, laugh, joke with relative ease. And he was cute. And tall. It was like I’d won a some sort of raffle. And, instead of calling it a win and cutting my losses, I proceeded with the blatant ignorance of Paris Hilton at a soup kitchen.

So here are 5 things I learned that you do not, in fact, want to do if you meet a guy you like:

  • Drink Tequila

Now it’s no secret of my love affair with this type of liquor. Jose Cuervo has certainly been more loyal to me than any other man in my life. But aside from the champagne and wine from earlier in the night, I was on a fairly empty stomach. Throw a margarita in the mix, and I was like Kristen Stewart at a rave. But because homeboy said that I just had to try one, I of course batted by eyes and tried to give the least slurry response of: “Suurrrrre.”

  • Bail On Your First Date For A Movie About Vans

In my defense, the tequila made it a little unclear if we were really supposed to hang out the following Saturday. But I remembered this movie-premiere-after party I told my friend I’d go to, and had to cancel on homeboy. By the way, this not my attempt to sound like I had some rock star, red carpet event. The movie was a documentary about vans. Not the shoes, but the ones down by the river. So obviously, I had to ditch my date with hot and charismatic homeboy to attend this very bearded, very nicotine-hazed movie premiere party.

  • Bail On Your First Date When You Invited Him To A Movie About Vans

Oops. This is how that conversation went:
me: Listen, I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about this weird movie premiere thing I have to go tonight…it’s about vans…I dunno, but I promised my friend I’d go.
him: Yeah, I know. You invited me to it the other night.
me: [slew of explicitives in my head] Shit.

  • Post About Him On Facebook

Before going to my high class movie premiere, my girlfriends and I got together at Lexi and Daisy’s apartment. Between the six of us, everyone had a Tinder, Match, or FarmersOnly* story. And we all had dates the next week with guys of different ethnicities, at which point Daisy shouted, “It’s like dating at Epcot!” (Hashtag white girls are annoying.) A few drinks in, I of course found this too hysterical to not share with every social media outlet at my disposal. And just in case I wasn’t sure if homeboy saw the status, he went ahead and liked it. I. Need. To. Get. A. Grip.

  • Blog About Him

Aaaaand there goes that one.

So homeboy and I are supposed to go out this week…provided he doesn’t come to his senses and change his mind. Wish me luck.

*Ok, that’s not true. But, man, do I really want someone to try it and tell me all about it. 


Bullet Point Tuesday: Weekend Update

I love when people try to talk to you about dating and throw all sorts of cliche phrases at you, in hopes that suddenly you’ll either be enlightened or more hopeful or less likely to polish off the almost full gallon of Eddy’s that promises to make you feel better than any boyfriend ever could.*

Some of my fave mantras that get thrown a single’s gals way are: “It’ll just happen when you least expect it.” Well what the hell, if we’re really honest here, we’re kinda always expecting it (preferably in a JLo/McConaughy way), so according to your theory, it’s never going to happen. OR: “You just can’t try. Let it happen.” Yes. Because that’s what online dating is about. Letting shit happen naturally. OR: “It’ll just start all of a sudden. You know, when it rains, it pours.”

Pours what, though, no one really specifies that part of the prophecy. Because there was some pourage this past weekend, but I don’t think it was in the way the hopeless ro’s anticipated.

  • Friday: Date #1, 5:30-7:30, Happy Hour Drinks and Appetizer

I should start recording the crestfallen looks on guys’ faces when, at the end of the date, we both stand up together for the first time and he’s looking up at me. Can you imagine the You Tube video montage that would make? Just a bunch of these. Not that I don’t empathize with these guys. I imagine it’d be to similar to standing up and realizing that, even in flats, you’re still taller than your date.

  • Saturday: Bar scene, where every couple dreams to start their love story 

I hadn’t openly hit on a guy in a long time, but last Saturday I had just enough of Lottie’s champagne** to muster up some courage to ask this homeboy to follow us to our next destination, Cortland’s Garage. He must’ve been drinking the same champagne because he mustered enough courage to come…and then talk to two hot blondes the entire time, while I chatted up his friend. So I played wingman for myself. Just one of those times I wish I wasn’t so damn good at it.

  • Sunday: Date #2, 12:00-2:00, Brunch (yes, rolling out of bed and putting on makeup before 2:00 was rough)

Dude was so sweet. So sweet. But, honey, at 34, why do you live with 5 other people you met on Craigslist? I dunno. I get that not everyone is as comfortable becoming besties with credit card debt as I am, but some for things I just encourage the splurge. Like an apartment that’s not reminiscent of the Duggars‘ household. Or Single White Female.

Some people would look at this past weekend as a failure in the Game of Love. But those are probably the people who think this is cute and do not like this. Plus, things are already looking up. Yesterday a 58-year-old suburbanite messaged me with “LOTS” of interest. I mean, when a Baby Boomer puts something in CAPS, how can a girl not be flattered?

*If my Lipsticks are reading this, I’m totally kidding. There is definitely not chocolate chunk cookie dough ice cream in my fridge. 

**What can I say? I’m classy like that.


Your Stories From The Dating Trenches

Well, I’m impressed. Just when I thought that I’d cornered the market on an awkward, infuriating, and unfortunate dating life—BAM. You guys came through. And told me I wasn’t alone. Well really you told me you wanted a free manicure, but I’m totally down with that.
I know that after reading the plethora of bad date stories, I should be horrified by the situation that we single ladies have found ourselves in. Certainly not delighted by the material I received. But just think. If we can turn every bad date into online fodder, then maybe these dating offenders will start getting the picture and change their behaviors. We’re like dating social activists, people.
So the best I could do was narrow it down to three. And now it’s up to you to vote on who deserves the mani on me. Don’t worry, homegirls two and three will receive a new Essie polish. And do their nails themselves.

Story 1: Farmers Only? 

I’m not quite sure on all the details of this one. But apparently Brooke dated a guy who thought it would be a romantic date to take her to a farm. Of disabled people. No, they didn’t farm the disabled people, assholes. Disabled people worked there. Now I’m all for volunteerism, charity, acts of kindness, but this sounded more like a situation where a soccer mom would take her kids to this place to “show them all of God’s children,” stare at people just trying to their jobs, and then leave. I dunno, though. I’ve never been. 
Then, as Brooke and homeboy were eating (apparently there’s some sort of restaurant on the farm–I bet it’s all organic!), he took the salt shaker and put it in his pocket. He looked around, then did the same with the pepper. When Brooke inquired as to why he was putting condiments down his pants, he matter-of-factly stated that he had just saved himself $5 on salt and pepper shakers.
I’m not sure which was worse. The fact that he thought salt and pepper shakers cost five bucks, that he was so concerned with saving five bucks, or that Brooke dated him for two more months.  

Story 2: Smooth Talker

After a rather lovely evening with The Situation, Claire was feeling pretty good about herself as he pulled his car in front of her apartment to drop her off. They’d gone to the same high school, but been a few years apart, which created the perfect mode for conversation: they had enough in common to fend off awkward silences, but didn’t know each other well enough to feel rude about asking questions like, “So how many siblings to you have?”
Claire unbuckled her seatbelt, turned towards Sitch, and began the banter that ensues with the winding down of a date. (i.e. “Ha, yeah, that was funny when the waiter spilled on you.” So are we gonna kiss or what?
And, of course, The Situation knows how to nail this moment. 
Sitch: “You know, you have a great personality.” 

Claire: “….Thanks….”Ok, not the most creative compliment, but he’s trying
Sitch: “Yeah, I mean, it makes up for everything else.”
Claire: [choked on her gum, which was now mocking her] “Everything else?”
Sitch: “Yeah, well, I mean you know. I always go out with really hot girls. I mean, like, really, really hot girls. So this is a nice change for me.”
Two weeks later, Sitch’s really, really hot ex-girlfriend was arrested on drug dealing charges. Claire clearly did not make the cut. 

Story 3: Just Bullet Point That Shit

On her way to a Tinder date, and running 15 minutes early (go girl), Mia got a text from homeboy, asking her where she was. She scrolled up and checked their previous conversation. Yup, they were supposed to meet at 8:00, and it was 7:48. She texted back she’d be there in five. He wrote back, “Just get your ass here.”

The rest of the date will be completely narrated by Mia’s bullet point list. 
  • Was possibly on cocaine?
  • Talked a lot about how well he did on a case involving oil companies and “fracking” (had to look it up).
  • Drives a “Benz” and made over 100K last year (each mentioned three times).
  • Was definitely on cocaine.
  • Had a younger sister who didn’t talk to him because of “family issues.”
  • Offered to split some food, but not before he insisted it was bad for your digestive system to eat after a workout. I declined. Wouldn’t want to upset that digestive system.
Other highlights:
*My sense of hearing was completely exhausted after said date. 

Whew. I’m exhausted from just writing those. Ok, time to decide. Vote here for which is manicure worthy!

I’ll announce the winners next week. While I’m in Hawaii. Yeah, I said it. Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet my Tiki prince


When Tinder Fizzles. And Other Reasons I Shouldn’t Be Allowed To Date.

It had been over a month since my first date with Tinder, and we had only gone out a handful of times. Two of those times included hanging out with my friends (re: I date like a 7th grader). The scarcity of our dates made sense. I was out of town. He was out of town. We’re both in beach volleyball leagues on different nights. He was out of town again. I went to Lollapalooza, which was like being out of town.

And during the intermediary periods of seeing each other, we texted or gchatted every day, all day. This was really what kept the spark going–the witty banter back and forth. It’s also my favorite part of the initial stages of dating. I guess it’s more like a test. Can a guy prevail through my biting sarcasm and often times illogical sense of humor? One time Tinder texted me something sweet. And I, of course, told him to stop it.

Other people began to question our sporadic dating with disconcerting eyes, which made me take notice. Oh yeah, I guess it is kinda weird we haven’t actually seen each other in ten days. But, seriously, you should see him karaoke.

Then I noticed that making plans with him started becoming a chore for both of us. Our schedules were so conflicting, that the process just got annoying. In retrospect, the most telltale sign that neither of us were into it was that we weren’t willing to cancel our previous engagements in order to hang out with one another.

But I finally came out of denial and realized there was a problem when Tinder told me he couldn’t go out the next night because of a work event, and, waiting for the green light, I scheduled a first date with another guy.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when one morning I received a text from Tinder detailing his plans for the weekend, which explained why he couldn’t hang out. He followed up with the, “I think you’re [insert three complimentary adjectives], but [insert reason]. And I think we should just be friends.”

I knew I felt the same way, but for some reason the words still stung. Kinda like when Ricky Martin came out and crushed my dreams of us ever having beautiful Latino children together.

We both knew that down the road this text would come from one of us. But that fact was hard to reconcile with the great time we both had together. I haven’t laughed like that on a date since being single. And he is the only guy I’ve ever dated that called restaurants ahead of time to make sure I was in the clear for my food allergies. He’s a really good guy, and we had good chemistry.

It’s true that it’s incredibly frustrating to go out with guys who are rude or cheap or are Packers fans. But I think it might even be more aggravating to go out with a great guy, who I have a great time with, but…there’s just something missing. And we both felt it. And Tinder just decided to put the kabash on pretending we didn’t. And for that, I’m grateful.*

I suppose I should look at this as a learning experience (my therapist would be so proud right now); I did realize how much I enjoyed some of the simple parts of dating someone. Just when I thought my heart was forever frozen over, it’s starting to melt a bit like those glaciers with global warming. And, maybe, in glacial time, I too will be open to a real relationship. But for now, I think I’ll just stick to Tindering.


*I’m fully aware that Tinder could’ve been full of it (i.e. seeing someone else the entire time, made fictional plans, performing a social experiment) and my dumb ass self just believed him. I’m switching things up and going optimistic. Just for a sec.