Category Archives: Dating Advice

Who You Gonna Call? Obviously Not Me, Because You Ghosted Out

When I heard about men just “ghosting out” on my friends, I figured, ignorantly, something must have happened that caused it, or that it they weren’t giving me the full story. How does a guy just disappear, never to be heard from again? Unlike that time I had a legitimate crush on Casper the Friendly Ghost, aka DEVON SAWA, I don’t fancy men that peace out like they’ve crossed over to the afterlife. That’s pish-posh. It’s like hearing stories of women finding their husbands and boyfriends on Tinder. And by “finding” them, I don’t mean they found “the one.” I mean they were already “the one,” and they were on Tinder looking for a side chick.

(That’s actually happened to people I know. DAMMIT.)

So I should have known better than to think it could happen to everyone else but me, but alas, there I was, thinking it couldn’t possibly. And then it did.

Twice in a row, actually. Little back story on both:

Guy 1: We’ll call him… MM. He was on a popular reality show, and I was setup through a friend. He seemed normal/nice enough, given being on television. (I’ve had really odd/obnoxious situations with people on TV.) He was professionally successful, and my friend told me he was a nice, standup guy. And frankly, it was the first time I was excited to go on a date! I didn’t feel dread; I didn’t feel like it was a chore. I was happy to go out and learn more about him.

I was impressed by the fact that he reached out to me almost immediately after my friend gave him my number, and I was really thrilled that he called me on the phone to organize the date. Talking on the phone these days is so rare. People are scared to pick up the phone — I used to hate talking on the phone, but now it’s like I crave it. It’s a more sincere connection than just sitting and texting with someone. You have to actually pay attention when you talk to someone on the phone.

For the date, he picked me up, took me out for drinks… and that’s when things got a little odd.

About halfway through the date, I excused myself to text my girlfriends in the bathroom: “This isn’t going well. He isn’t into me.” He didn’t do anything that would make me think he didn’t like me, unless you count the fact that he asked me one question about myself (maybe) in a matter of two hours. Most of the time was spent talking about his professional life, his personal life, his family, his time on reality TV,  and somewhat talking down to me about sports. (He wouldn’t have known that I know a lot about the subject — he never asked.)

It’s pretty typical of men in LA to sit and gloat about themselves, and I feel sad that it’s a rare trait to find someone who seems interested in what I have to say. Some of you might be thinking, “but your job is to ask people questions for a living. Maybe you weren’t giving him a chance?” I have to say that, if anything, this makes me more aware of other people and how they act, react and their body language — none of which seemed to express interest in me.

Anyway, I was relieved when we got the check and decided to go. I was bummed that he wasn’t interested, but I tried to shake it off. When we got back to my apartment, we sat in his car for a few minutes listening to Big Sean and Drake and laughing (I equate this to men reciting poetry for women back in the 1600s), then he got out, opened my door and walked me up to the porch area, WHICH I LOVE! Because that’s chivalry, people. Anyway, no smooching happened (like you care? oy)  but he did ask me out for the next night, much to my surprise. And I thought, “see, Kirbie! You have to stop writing people off. Maybe you’re meant to go out with him and a real connection will happen!” (I clearly have been watching too much of The Bachelorette.)

And then I never heard from him again.

Ever. again. Bye, Felicia status.

Guy 2: I have known this guy for a few years, because he was my former neighbor. He was married. He is not married anymore.

While that is all true, the real reason I connected with him was because OF TINDER! Sue me. He was cute. I wanted to go on dates. You know, put myself out there, embrace the law of attraction, all that jazz.

He was the first person that came up in my matches. So I asked my roommate if I should “heart” him or not, and with her encouragement, went for it. What did I have to lose? If it wasn’t a match, he’d never know. And I felt comfortable, given I knew him (albeit not very well).

The short of it is that we went on two dates, which I thought went well. No spark immediately, but I wasn’t trying to rush anything. After our second date, I told him to call me the next day, and he laughed and joked it was “too soon.” Surely no dude would openly say that out loud and NOT BE KIDDING, right?

Well, joke it was not — because he kissed me goodbye that Saturday night, and I never heard from him again.

The end!

The point I initially was going to make was: don’t be a coward! Politely tell a woman you’re not into her if you aren’t. But I guess that’s weird, and quite assuming on your part to think she would even care. Given my interest level in both guys, I was confused, but I wasn’t devastated to not hear from them again. But part of me is curious as to why I never heard from MM, especially since he made the effort to invite me out for the next day, and nothing terrible or deal-breaking happened on the Neighbor Boy dates.

Granted, I could have said something that they didn’t like, or they could have been turned off by my weave…? (RIP Ashley!) (Actually, they definitely had no idea about Ashley because she was put in flawlessly. She was undetectable.)

So what is my point? I don’t know. Maybe it’s to ask what you think is appropriate in this situation: do you ignore and avoid? Or are you upfront about everything so there’s no questions? Is blowing people off soooooo 2000 and late? I want to know what it all means!

When you ghost out on a woman, what’s your reasoning?

Do All Men Cheat… or Nah?

I’m just trying to gauge things here, guys, but can you do me a solid and answer the following poll? Inquiring minds want to know:

Based on a few experiences I’ve had the past couple of months, I’m assuming men have lost a majority of their brain cells. How? I do not know. Sports? Huffing paint as a kid? I really don’t care, but that has to be the only excuse possible to even entertain the idea of getting intimate with a woman other than your wife, fiancé or girlfriend. Right?

I need to believe that you have zero brain power and that men who actually do have brain cells are not committing these fraudulent acts of treason.  I don’t want to live in a world where men with intelligence are knowingly doing stupid sh*t like this.

But unfortunately, I am. And hey, women are guilty of this crime against humanity, too. But can we put an end to it? I’m sick of the cheating culture. Hollywood sensationalizes it; books profit from it.

A former colleague told me a few months back that if her husband went off to the (random example) Caribbean with a group of friends and had a one-night affair with some chick, she wouldn’t care. And she wouldn’t want to know. I don’t know that I would want to know, either. But this type of thing always comes back around — I would hate it even more if 10 years down the line, someone slipped up and made a comment about that night in front of me. The “last person to know” part would be where the trust was broken… not necessarily the actual act of infidelity.

But what happens if he comes clean right after it happens? Where do you go from there?

Is infidelity a big deal?

Apparently so.

If you’re religious, yes. But if you’re religious, you (usually) don’t believe in divorce, either. So what now?

In the past three months, the following has occurred:

  • A bachelor party attendee (not the groom) fully tried to make out with my single friend, only to have her look him up and find out he was engaged
  • Same friend made out with a guy at a club, only to find out he was a bachelor planning to get married in the next few weeks. (He even contacted her after that night which makes him a complete moron.) (Please note that said friend is not an instigator of these types of things; she is a bum magnet, apparently. Not her fault.)
  • A friend made out with a guy at a house party; she Facebooked him the next day and read that he was “in a relationship.” The worst part? Two of his friends saw this go down and didn’t say a word.
  • I had a married man kiss me, not realizing he was married. (No ring. Said he was divorced. Apparently is getting one? Ugh.)

And before you go off on me and say this is an “LA” issue, trust me, friends, that it is not. Yeah, I know everyone here is looking for the next best thing. That’s why we don’t date. (In addition to the terrible layout of the land, poor traffic conditions and unfeasible public transportation options. I mean, if you live in WeHo and they live on Santa Monica? That’s practically the kiss of death on a relationship. Live in the valley? FORGET ABOUT IT.) (That’s a blog in itself. Coming soon…) Anyway, I have heard all kinds of crazy stories about infidelity and they’re rooted deep in the heart of Texas, in the midwest – EVERYWHERE, Y’ALL! Infidelity is the blemish on the face that is life: it can pop up anywhere. Nobody’s safe.

I know I’ve written about being cheated on before (idiot) and I’m fairly sure I’ve posted about the incident where I went through my boyfriend’s phone (I highly do NOT recommend doing this, ever) only to find that he was texting his friend, calling dibs on a girl who was hanging out with our group. Oh yes, I was there. Friggen Paige — grown men calling dibs on her. Grown men with girlfriends, mind you. And I can’t name my daughter Paige now because all I will ever think about is this ridiculous incident. I shouldn’t have gone through his phone, but he shouldn’t have “called dibs” on a girl when he wasn’t single. So absurd.

Additionally, here’s why I’m so conflicted about this topic: because I’ve heard from so many people that this is the norm nowadays. Cheating doesn’t have the “OMG!” factor anymore. It’s like, oh, Katie cheated on her husband? Bless her heart. Was there a pre-nup?

Infidelity, whether it’s emotional or physical, is normal. Apparently. To the world. And I don’t know which option is worse! They’re both traumatizing.

You knew this GIF was coming. You knew it.

And I know that being flirtatious isn’t a crime, but there are plenty of cases where it crosses the line. Specifically in the workplace, where a dude gets a little too chummy with his female coworker and makes forward comments that he has no business making if he’s in a relationship. I don’t want to show up to his office or at a company party, fearful that my boyfriend or fiancé or whoever he is sends dirty texts or raunchy emails to his secretary, coworker, boss (whatever). The only person you should have inside jokes (or dirty jokes, in this case) with is ME, DAMMIT. ME. I want to be enough for you. Him. Hypothetically. Clearly.

So, what’s the resolution here? Fear not, ladies and gents. I have an answer for everything. And it doesn’t include “be calm and know that everyone cheats a little bit, in some way or another.”

Ladies, if you know a guy is taken… just back off. Keep it casual. I know it can feel like you’re special when a dude is giving you attention and he has a woman, but it really makes you pathetic. Not special.

Guys, follow this handy flow chart to see what your next steps should be!

menterflowchart copy


Why Online Dating Sucks

Online dating is like wearing a pair of Crocs: they feel good when you’re lounging around the house, but you’re embarrassed to be seen out in public with them. Nobody is screaming from the rooftops, “WE MET ON TINDER, Y’ALL!” (Yeah, that one was a stretch. Work with me here.)

I gave my best shot at online dating. I know people who have met their spouses online. But I really, truly can’t get into it. Did I date a guy I met on Tinder? Yes, I did. Was he smokin’ hot? Yes, he was. (Hellooooo abs!) And how long did that last? Three weeks? Four at best?

I don’t attribute us meeting online to the fact that we didn’t work out. Actually, I take that back. I do. I saw him on Tinder and thought he was as smoke show, swiped to the right and it was a match. I had nothing other than his looks to go off of. And sure, he swept me off my feet the first few dates (even after The Perfect Date), but those red flags that were waving relentlessly in the back of my head were shielded by the fact that he was so. good. looking. I remember at one point saying to myself, “it doesn’t have to be serious, right? This could be fun! Just for fun. Nothing more.” And then I found myself wanting to do nothing else but make out with this guy. Thassit. No small talk, no sweet dinners. Just kiss me already! Not exactly grounds for a long-lasting, healthy relationship now, is it?

So, if you haven’t guessed my first point, let me spell it out for you:

1.) It’s extremely superficial.

No matter what site you’re on, you’re looking for someone attractive, or at least someone you find attractive. He could be a doctor, could save small children from fires for a living, hell, he could be a royal, but if he doesn’t look good, you ain’t giving him the time of day. I mean, he would really have nail that first message if he wasn’t attractive to you.

Remember when you still lived at home with your parents (I’m talking pre-college, okay) and you met people in high school? It was usually because you ran around with the same crowd and you got to know that person on a deeper level. You went through trials and tribs together. And even if they weren’t initially hot enough for you, you ended up liking them because they made you laugh and they had a heart of gold. (Or they were a bad boy that made you want to leave home and live yo’ life.)

Regardless, it was an organic way to meet people. And now it’s all muddled, because you usually don’t meet people unless it’s at work, and GOD FORBID you date anyone at work. I’m not saying that sarcastically. Unless you own the company with your significant other, I do not admire people who date and work together. That sounds like my nightmare. My ex-boyfriend in college and I both got an internship before we broke up, and when we did break up, I dreaded the day he was going to walk through those doors after not seeing him for a few weeks. Good news for me was that he never did — I guess he got a better offer elsewhere (or he probably didn’t want to deal with that drama either). If you are my ex-boyfriend and I truly cared you, I do not want to be your friend after we break up. Initially, anyway. It isn’t that easy.

2. No matter what is said, I find something wrong with it. 

I hate every message I’ve ever received on OKCupid. Every single one. Well, I take that back. I had an ongoing conversation with a high power attorney who wanted to keep himself anonymous because he was a over a certain age, and he didn’t want people knowing he was on the site. (He gave me his number and I googled him, pulling up all his personal details, like where he works, his full name, etc.) That was a fun one. And then there was a super hot dude who was witty and Christian, but lived in Chicago… so that wasn’t going anywhere. Other than that, all the messages are AWFUL.

There’s the ones from guys you know — who might even be your friends — and they feel obligated to say something because they see you on the site. (Just kill me.) I’m sorry if you’ve done that and I haven’t responded. I adore you, but I’m not about to message you on a dating site.

There’s the messages that are a simple, “Hey, what’s up.” This isn’t AIM. Mama doesn’t have time for that. I have 46 other messages waiting to be read. What makes you special enough to get a response? —  SEE? IT’S LIKE I CAN’T EVEN HAVE A NORMAL CONVERSATION ON THESE SITES! In real life, that IS how a guy should approach you. But online it’s like, “ugh, YOU’RE WASTING ALL MY TIME.”

Alternatively, there are the messages that are six paragraphs long. They discuss why they are so special and different, why they think you two would be a good match, and what they’re looking for (and why you fit the bill). At that point you’re so drained reading all the emotional BS that you don’t want to respond.

Anytime you get a compliment? Yeah, it’s instantly game over. “WOW! You have the most beautiful eyes! And you have your life together! What a catch!” It comes off super cheesy online, and like they’re kissing your ass for a response. Spare me. (See? There it is again. If a dude said this to me in real life, I’d be elated.)

Further, if the message includes multiple spelling, grammar and punctuation errors, I have zero desire to get to know you. You could be my soul mate, but because you do not know that gorgeous does, in fact, include the letter “e”, I cannot move forward. Nope.

3. The internet gives you courage.

Most people know that my writing very true to who I am as a person. My personality gets channeled into my writing… not always the case with people you meet online. You might think you’re about to meet this outspoken, put-together dude; then you meet them and they’re timid, quiet and could possibly be homeless. Their online personality is the complete opposite of who they are IRL. And, taking that to another level — you could be in a full-on Catfish situation, where you think you’re meeting one person, then it ends up being their sister.

There are plenty more ways online dating sucks. What are some of your peeves? Any tips about how to navigate the internet dating waters? Don’t feel like you need to offer up any advice. I feel like this is territory I’d rather not step into again.

Messages I’ve Received on OKCupid

Guys. I’ve been SO INTO MTV PROGRAMMING lately! What is wrong with me? I’ve been an MTV baby from the get-go, but there were a few rough years around the time I graduated college. And now they’re back on track with this sh*tstorm of a show, Are You The One?, which is actually genius. It seems scripted at some points, but I like the premise and wish I had come up with it. Not to mention, the revamped version of The Real World is complete madness, which makes fabulous television. I just wish they would have kept the old school docu-style cameras a la the Hawaii season. Side note: COLIN AND AMAYA FOR-EV-ER. (I know there will be people reading this who won’t know who either of these folk are, and for that I will cry a single tear.)

That had nothing to do with anything. Moving on…

Alright ladies, what’s the worst pickup line you’ve heard? Have one in mind? Okay, take that, then imagine the guy peed himself while delivering it to you, while wearing a shirt with a naked picture of himself on it. That’s what it feels like when you get messages from (most) men on OKCupid: it’s more second-hand embarrassment anyone should have to deal with.

OKCupid is free. You get what you pay for. Which is, in fact, nothing, except for these offensive messages. Some are offensive in the sense of being vulgar and foul, but most are offensive because the grammar is so poor, the try-hards are in fact TRYING THE HARDEST, and overall it’s just a disappointing experience. But it’s free, so you feel like you haven’t lost anything. (Except your dignity…) So you forge ahead and hope someone fun, charismatic and maybe even attractive comes along! But don’t hold your breath.

I won’t get off of the site because I know that the messages would make great fodder for Mentervention. Without further ado, here’s what to do on OKCupid, apparently, if you’re a man. You can thank me later, dudes!

IF AT FIRST YOU DON’T SUCCEED Email incessantly, like these guys! Nothing is a bigger turn on than unappreciated persistence, self-doubt, and essentially talking to yourself.

Guy A


Guy B


“If you’re interested, please say hi.” Oh, thank you! I didn’t realize that was the next step when you were actually interested in conversing with someone. You’ve shed new light on this site for me. And “if you were still interested in getting to know each other”? Not sure how I gave you that impression, as I literally DIDN’T WRITE ANYTHING.

Guy C

ImageThis is not an application for The Bachelorette. A short paragraph would suffice. Also, “not sure how this online stuff works?” We have bigger fish to fry here.

INSULT ME! Reverse psychology, right? (Or make a craptastic joke that doesn’t get you anywhere.)

Screen shot 2014-03-13 at 8.26.40 PM

I’ve always wanted to go on a date where the dude tells me ahead of time he might not be attracted to me. Very reassuring! 

DEGRADE ME! Women love being talked dirty to before ever meeting in the flesh. It’s like a sex hotline, only with the written word! (aka ICQ chat rooms circa 1998.) 

Screen shot 2014-03-13 at 8.31.00 PM

Screen shot 2014-03-13 at 8.33.30 PM

If I wanted to play a game on the internet, I’d accept all of those Farmville requests on Facebook.

TELL ME HOW I WILL FEEL because you clearly know the depths of my soul, all based on my online dating profile and a bunch of idiotic questions I decided to answer.      

Screen shot 2014-03-13 at 8.36.48 PM


Screen shot 2014-03-13 at 8.43.40 PMI imagine Jeffrey Dahmer saying something similar to that first message to his victims.

That’ll do for now, but more excerpts would be riddled with spelling and grammatical errors, condescending tones, and simple hellos which, as you can probably guess, don’t elicit any responses.                                      

If any of you have actually found more-than-decent, spectacular men to date on this site, hats off. In the meantime, I’m going to keep collecting these messages for more posts.                      

The Perfect Date

I went on a perfect date. In Los Angeles.

Yes, ’tis true. And at the risk that this person is reading this right now… I’m sorry for putting this out on the internet. But I cannot NOT share it. It was, in fact, a perfect date! GREAT JOB. I know you didn’t think it was, but it was. And in a life where I have had my fair share of cheeseball pickup lines and idiotic “dates” (if you want to call them that), this needs to be documented.

Dearest readers, before you start to roll your eyes (as visions of red roses and birds draping me in a gown come to mind), slow your roll. This is a very 2014-version of perfect.

Read: it wasn’t perfect at all.

I’ve been putting myself out there in terms of dating, because 5 years in Los Angeles without even a short-term relationship has been kind of a drag. It’s been hilarious and tragic. I’ve received the absolute corniest, cringe-worthy messages that I wish I could relinquish from this brain of mine. But this was the first date I’ve been on in a few months. (Since the sociopath incident of 2013…)



Usually, on dates, you end up meeting at a restaurant, separately, so you can plan your escape if the dude totally sucks, has an annoying laugh, looks like he might murder you later, or won’t stop talking about pilot season. However, it’s fairly tame. You sit awkwardly and order, while trying to get to “know” one another. Drinking can (and should) be involved. It can drag on forever, usually. But in this case, he came to pick me up. (This was enough to elicit an astounding “whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” from several of my girlfriends.)

We headed to the destination — Lucques on Melrose. For whatever reason, the map and the GPS said it was on Melrose Place, so as we drove up and down the street, it was impossible to find. Clearly.

We ended up at this little Russian place that looked like a house on the inside. Yes, Russian. Probably not the ideal first date fare, but the restaurant was vintage-inspired, with beautiful light fixtures, amazing vodka (it was Russian, so it better had been!) and delicious, savory food. If you are up for an adventure, it’s across from Fig & Olive: Mari Vanna. (PS: Order the Salmon Blinis, Potato Dumplings, and Beef Stroganoff; the Honey cake was decadent, and the seaberry martini was refreshing and light.)

We’d both never had Russian food before (well, legit Russian anyway), so we were both hesistant upon first walking in. But we warmed up to it. It could have been a complete disaster, but our Russian waitress was dominant authoritative (honestly, I would have been terrified of her if she wasn’t so helpful and funny), and the atmosphere was perfect to get to know each other without feeling too uptight or stuffy.

It didn’t go according to plan, but it made for an experience we both hadn’t had before.


Part II to “it didn’t go according to plan” was that this date was supposed to transpire on a Saturday, but he got stuck in Big Bear and wasn’t able to make it back in time. I figured he’d want to plan for later the next week, (and honestly thought he was just trying to get out of the date at the time) but then he asked me out for Sunday. Sunday isn’t your typical “date night”, but my mantra lately has been WHY THE HELL NOT? So Sunday it was.

This actually benefitted us on many levels. There was zero traffic. (I know, so LA to say.) And the bar we swung by after dinner wasn’t jam-packed. It was full because it was karaoke night, but we were able to sit and talk some more without having to yell to be heard. And the karaoke crowd made for some built-in comic relief.


When you get to a certain age, it isn’t taboo to kiss on a first date. (Or then some.) Which frankly? It sucks, because you lose the romance and the allure and THE WHIMSY when it comes to first dates. I was talking about high school a few weeks ago, and how I  thought my high school (eh, right-after-high school) boyfriend was the most romantic I ever had. And there were a myriad of reasons: we got to know each other as friends before we started dating, and he courted me for while (after wanting to kill each other for an extended period of time — funny how that works out). So when we finally went on a first date and we had our first kiss, it was a HUGE DEAL. Butterflies, giddiness, the whole she-bang. I hadn’t felt that way in any of my most recent relationships, and sure as hell hadn’t felt that way since living in LA. Either I wasn’t attracted to the guy and God forbid he get anywhere close to my face, or I was attracted, and they kissed me right off the bat (and were rather forward about it, too). They never left something to be desired, and I was never on my toes. I never thought, “I can’t tell if he’s into me or not?”

This guy didn’t even hold my hand until walking me to my front door at the end of the night, and when I thought I might get a kiss goodnight — which I wouldn’t have minded, to be honest — he went for a hug and went on his way. I knew we were going to see each other again, because verbalized his interest in me, but it left me wanting more, and kept me on my toes.

So see? It wasn’t perfect. I’m sure he probably was worried that it wasn’t going to plan. But it was lovely.

Some of you are probably thinking “is this guy a genius or something?” Yes. I’m pretty sure he is, because apparently he knows just how to play it. And what I didn’t mention is that before the first date, we had a little coffee meetup just to see if there was any initial interest. Kind of like a pre-interview or something. And this Type A woman loves preparation, so it was completely up my alley.


This is completely irrelevant, but at dinner, some guy at the restaurant sent me a drink. Naturally, I told the waitress I didn’t order it — like an oblivious idiot — so she literally had to say, “it’s compliments of a man here in the restaurant.” It was completely shocking, but validating, too. I couldn’t have planned that shiz better myself. Cha-ching!

So remember that not everything has to go according to plan. There’s beauty in the imperfections. And for the love of God, play hard to get!

You Pay For Dinner. The End.

Tonight, my producer Lauren stared at her computer screen, with a frown, and said the following:

“I really wish somebody would take me out to a nice dinner.”

Allison and I gave each other our “OMG” eyes and burst into laughter, because DUH, who doesn’t want a free meal? We’re all hustling 20-somethings. A free lobster tail and glass of Pinot would be excpetional right now, especially since most of us are getting enough sleep at night to warrant any bitchy comments we might say the next day null and void, since we’re all working around the clock in the midst of awards season.

I almost responded with “well, you aren’t lacking in the dating department,” because girlfriend’s full-time hobby is dating. That’s something she’s good at. Something I’m very much not. I don’t make the time, and I don’t have any means of meeting new people (except through work I suppose).

But you know why I didn’t say that? Because that would be insinuating that men actually pay for dates these days. And it’s come to my attention, on more than just a handful of occasions, that dating isn’t as old fashioned as I’d like it to be. Dating, as in dinner, a movie — whatever it may be — it has no charm anymore. Men don’t pay for dinner on first dates. They go halfsies. Or, worst case scenario, I’ve heard of women that front the entire bill — willingingly and (once) against their own will.


Before The Black Dahlia got cut in half, she was known as a beautiful woman in Hollywood who went out on dates, as it was a great way to meet people and, I quote (from E! True Hollywood Story — hard-hitting journalism here) “a free meal.” (Perhaps this is not the best example, as she ended up dead after all of these frequent free dining experiences.) However, that is what a date should be*. A free meal. For a lady. (Or men who feel like a lady.) Dudes, if you ask a woman out on a date, you should pay.

Actually, I take that back. If you ask someone on a date, you should pay.

I can hear this question in the distance: “What if you don’t know who asked who? What if you both just agreed to meet for drinks or something casual?”

This brings me to my next point: stop with this ‘meeting’ bullshit. My mother, a wise woman, told me (and to this day will still throw it out there) that there is no “hanging out.” If a man is interested, he’ll be forward enough to ask you to dinner, or, will even ask you out on a date. HEAVENS TO MURGATROYD. And contrary to what I’ve told every single human being the past 10 years, if a guy asks you to dinner, it’s a date — whether you see it as one or not. (I used to have reservations about this because I felt like I should be able to select what was a date and what wasn’t, depending on if I liked the guy or not. That is not the case. You can go on single dates with people you have no intention of ever seeing again. Isn’t that nuts?)

Notice that I italicized man, to reeeeeeally get the point across. Men ask you on dates. And people who wear the pants ask people on dates. So no matter what type of sexually-oriented relationship you’re in, know that one of you has to assume the role of the aggressor, and will have to ask the other on the date. If you do this, know that you will be paying for it.

(In a chivalrous way, not in a “you might die” way.)

*Dates should also be the bridge between singledom and the possibility of finding true love, but let’s focus on the real issues here.

Things You Need Not Do If You’re Trying to Take Me on a Date

As my irritation with the male population continues, I have to remind myself that I am actually attracted to men and that, most of the time, they’re just so darn loveable! I usually remind myself of this by looking at a picture of Harry Styles.


So why would I be irritated, you ask? (Have you read this blog before?) I mean, perhaps I am hard to please, sure. But after discussing some qualms with my coworker today, I realized that I am in the right about these irritations. 


(*Or anyone, really.)

1. Send a cryptic message about who you are

If I dont know you/barely know you, it is not in your best interest to message me with “Hi, It’s Ben.” Ben WHO? The kid I had a crush on in 4th grade? My brother’s best friend? Who the eff are you? This first communicative message would be the ideal time to identify yourself. Therefore, if you are messaging me to ask me out, please indicate how we met — and immediately. A “Hi, It’s Ben, I met you at that Nylon party with Jennifer two weeks ago,” should suffice. Identifying how we met and where is always a great option. That way, if I still don’t remember you, I’m the real a-hole.

2. Ask me out to lunch

I am not a man, but are you trying to put yourself in the no bone zone? (Not like that is going to happen, get a grip.) If I agree to lunch with you, it’s because I do not find you attractive or I feel like you may be homosexual. Nothing wrong with either of those, but it definitely means I am not trying to see the relationship progress past chatting over a sandwich for 30 minutes. Also, I am not trying to drink at lunch, and sometimes you need a cocktail to endure a first date.

There have been way too many men, in general, asking women to go to lunch for a first date. (Polling the office, obviously.) Do people take lunches these days? This is a foreign concept to me. And any lunch I do take is not going to spent trying to get to know someone, unless that person ends up being a new employer or is discussing a business venture. Or one of my parents.

*general note: while I do not take lunch because I am usually working, I do get the opportunity… but I don’t typically because the valet situation at the studio is obnoxious*

ANYWAY, if you expect to ‘wow’ someone in a 30 minute lunch (which, by the way, would be just 30 minutes — because traffic is a nightmare here), think again. I may respect that you are not trying to take up too much of my time, but really? I’m not trying to get romantic over a lunch portion salad and an agua fresca.

3. Date my friends

Hey, novel concept here, but if you dated one of my friends, get lost. I am not trying to date you. Unless I have her blessing, I am not doing it. Furthermore, I do not want to date my friend’s sloppy seconds. And last time I checked, I am not attracted to anyone they date because I am apparently attracted to people that none of my friends find attractive either. (And thank God. It makes going out in a single group of girls a lot easier.)

Also, I am a Capricorn. By nature, I assume you want something from me if you are nice to me (bad habit), so if you had dated my girlfriend and then were a little too friendly/touchy-feely with me at that party I randomly saw you at, in the immortal words of Dionne Farris: I know what you’re doing. I know you’re trying to piss her off and make yourself feel better about yourself. Please take your issues elsewhere.

4. Send me text messages or emails with emoticons/emojis

Listen, do I enjoy sending 17 cat emojis in a row to my coworkers? Yes. It’s gratifying, for whatever reason. But please do not send them to me if you’re asking me out. I know this is wrong, but judgements will be made. I need to feel like you are mature, a bit mysterious, and maybe even SEXY! (God help me!) And if you are sending me “;-)” or that emoji that’s attempting an air kiss, you are not sexy. You have solidified it for me.

There are levels to this. You are between Defcon 1-3 if you send emojis, depending on what they are. And if you send me a @—->—– (a rose) or a :^) you are most definitely hitting Defcon 4 or 5. Emojis can be forgiven at times, emoticons are the kiss of death.

Ryan Gosling could ask me out to dinner in Paris, but if he sends me a “thumbs up” emoji as I’m driving to dinner, I’m having that Porshe he called for me turn around. “Cough cough, I’m sick.”

Save emojis for an inside joke with a friend or your parents. And don’t even think about sending an emoticon. Ever. To anyone. And if you’re worried that I might not get your sarcasm or sense of humor, try giving me a phone call like a normal human.

5. Ask me what I “want to do”

Please take the reigns here. If we end up driving around for 30 minutes trying to decide on what to do after dinner, or where to eat, or where to buy the bottle of wine — do me a favor and drop me back off at home.

Men make decisions. If we’re going with comparisons here, please be a Schmidt in this situation, not a Nick Miller. (If you don’t get these, please ignore.) Men make reservations and say, “Hi, I will pick you up at 7:00 and was thinking dinner at _______________ would be nice. Sound good?” Not “So I’ll grab you around 7:00, is that okay? And we can go from there.” NO. No we can’t. At least by saying “sound good?” you offer me the opportunity to let you know I hate pizza, so that old school Italian pizzeria you wanted to take me to isn’t the best idea, but if they have other options that sounds great! And “we can go from there” is maybe the worst thing you could say to me, because the last thing I want to think about is that I could possibly be trying to entertain a guy I barely know in a car for 30 minutes while we decide on where to eat.

One of the best things in life I have learned is that sometimes you need to take action and show people what they are missing*. Not let them marinate on it and have time to decide whether it’s good or bad. Just jump into it and commit! (*This sentiment should not be taken in regards to sexual activity. I’ve warned you.)

So there you have it. Thangs you need not do if you’re tryin’ to take me a on date, y’all.. And not just me — any woman you’re trying to date. Capeesh?

Also, aren’t I doing a great job of showing that I am truly a happy-go-lucky, goofy, go-with-the-flow type of gal? Because I am. I AM. (!!!!)

For Pete’s sake.