Don’t Date This Guy

(This is part 2. Click here for Part 1)

She called him that same day, June 19th. They spent about an hour talking on the phone, exchanging pleasantries and growing interest in each other carefully. Each sensed something familiar, but couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

As it turned out – both were Gemini, only 4 years apart. Both liked to fool around as madmen, but both were working since out of school, so it wasn’t like they had an easy living on their parent’s nickel. They have set on a date – right next day – both agreeing that better off meeting as soon as possible and see whether it will work out. Why waste time on pointless bickering if they both know what they want and just need a chance to see if the other party was right – or not.

When she showed up from her apartment, freshly made up and dressed up and glowing with confidence he realized he doesn’t know any good restaurants he can take her to. Anything he knew wasn’t upscale enough to take such a glamorous girl to. It would be painfully, obviously out of place. However, since she, nevertheless, hopped into the car he decided to go with Plan B.

What’s a plan B you asked? So did I. Turns out Plan B is when you don’t take your date to the most expensive restaurant you know. Basically, it is an unspoken rule that the better looking girl you take on a date, the better (and more expensive) restaurant you take her to. However, chances always are that girl will be so beautiful that there will be no such restaurant that you know of. Or can afford. Either way – you drop to Plan B.

So where to did he took her then? To the small pastry cafe, where everything (but the food) sucks – service, waiters, even prices. What’s the reason? Playing on the contrast.

Turned out the decision was a major success. They weren’t bothered by the service or having to mind their manners all the time and were able to relax. Coffee, tea and couple of biscuits were more than enough food for two non-stop talking Geminis.

The date lasted for three and half hours (instead of 45 minutes he thought it would). They were flirting before they even knew it. She asked a waiter for fruit salad. Waiter said that the only fruits they had was strawberries with whipped cream. Waving her huge eyelashes at both her date and a waiter she said that strawberries and whipped cream aren’t exactly the first date meal, but she knows, however, that one can lead to another. Waiter, totally red (shifting into infra-red already), left hastily.

When she excused herself to the restroom, he looked around and realized there were quite a few spectators that have abandoned their own dates as they watched for the outcome of our couple’s date. Girls were checking the guy out weighting the chance to approach him while the girl was away. Guys started lining up closer to the restroom exit with hopes to get a closer look at the girl. With slim waistline and DDD-size bra cup filled with 100% natural contents she was an eye candy for anyone.

But as every other date, this one had to end. He took her home, putting on couple of finishing touches, like saying he enjoyed the date, gently tapping her wrist while saying he doesn’t feel like letting her go. They parted wishing each other a good night. He promised himself not to forget to call her tomorrow since she looked almost too good to be true and anyway too good a chance to miss.

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As with any Christmas story this one is with a good ending. As with any Christmas story – this one is told around Christmas. And as with any Christmas story – it’s a story about LOVE.

The story I am starting is about a guy and a girl in their early thirties. In fact, she’s just not in her thirties yet. It’s a beautiful summer of 2007 and love, desire and beauty are all in the air.

They both just came out of pointless, tiresome relationships. She was dating some dude from fashion industry who thought the week is a waste if he didn’t sleep with another model or PR girl. He was running away from overweight and overly controlling monster.

They posted their profiles on one of the dating sites. Which one – it’s irrelevant, but it just happened to be the same for both of them. Both had some queue – he had two – three dates per week, she had two-three dates a day. Talk about Sex and the City

One day, as he was browsing the profiles he stumbled on a picture of a beautiful girl. Looked like a legit profile, nevertheless the almost-professionally done photos. Who wrote, she responded and in about dozen messages they have exchanged phone numbers.

(To Be Continued)

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Since dating season is over, it’s time we shift a bit to the actual relationship advice. What to do when she finds your dirty socks on her dresser? How to act if she’s allergic to your favorite food? Where would her underware end up after rough steamy sex you had last night (hint – check your shoes)?

Today we’ll get to one important aspect that pretty much everyone dismisses. This aspect, however, is one of the major contributors to couples breakups. No, it isn’t the sex position – if you were thinking that. It’s the lack of attention.

Most guys think that once they got themselves a girlfriend, they are all set. They feel they can just sip a beer every night they don’t see their baby, have an hour-long chat over the phone and get it over with. Well, if you don’t need that girl with long black curly hair and size D breasts I’ll be happy to take her off of your hands. And so will a number of other guys.

Dating is not really over when you got that oral mutual exclusivity agreement. More so, now it gets tougher. Before you didn’t have to remember what colors she likes, what flowers she love, when’s her cousin’s birthday and how she likes her eggs or steak. Now it’s all your liability, so to say.

One of the major major mistakes is the guy’s thinking “She must be happy I am with her”. True, she might be, at the beginning. But after first three days that happiness wears out, so you have to be constantly reminding her why she must be happy. NOT because you said so. NOT because you want her to be. But because you make her feel good about herself, you and your relationship. It’s quite easy if you ask me, but most of us fail at this simple task.

I’ll make it even easier for you, guys – PAY ATTENTION. If you don’t want to keep it all in your head – put her and her relatives’ birthdays in your goddamn Blackberry. Make a notes entry under her name in your address book and put it all there – colors, flowers, steak, eggs – everything. This time when you go out with her – just consult your records and you’re good to go: you remembered the right things, she’s happy you remember these things and overall – your relationship is a happy one.

To wrap things up – I had these notes for all the girls I was dating. OnceI settled, I kept making notes about my current girlfriend. She happen to have a glance over my phone where I was reviewing some notes about her. When asked I just showed her my notes and admitted that I am not really good at remembering these things, but she’s important to me and I kept all these small items on file to avoid occasional embarrasment. First couple of seconds she looked puzzled (to me), but it turned out she was overwhelmingly surprised at how much effort I made to keep her happy. No need to say how much better she treated and respected me afterwards.

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As you might have already guessed – we get a lot of mail. Not comments (strange), but plenty of e-mails asking, answering and suggesting.

Make no mistake – we read them all.

One e-mail, however, caught our attention – primarily because we share it’s point of view. Both – ladies and men, even some of our friends agreed with it. Yet, somehow, it still seems to be sort of an issue.

The letter talks about guys looking at girls on the street. Not teenagers or toddlers, we talking about a real world adults who look at each other – and get upset when some one looks at them. But let’s see what the actual letter has to say.

From: Disgruntled Looker
To: DontDateGuy
Subject: Why Are They Mad At Me?

First – let me make couple of points about myself. I am good looking, neatly dressed guy, who works in IT. I am not overweight (in fact – I excercise quite regularly), also take shower and brush my teeth at least once a day in the morning. I don’t have anyvisible defects to my face, body or posture. On any day there are hundrends like me on the street – some look better, many look worse, but if you not really paying attention – you probably would not spot me right-on.

That being said – what’s wrong with those ladies on the street? Almost any time they see me looking at them they cringe. If I let out a slight smile – they cringe even more. It’s almost like I am trying to get into their pants without even asking their name – and all I did was looked. What’s wrong with these ladies? I can’t be looking that bad to scare them off!

Aren’t they spend hours putting on make-up and doing their hair? Shopping for the best clothes out there that fit them perfectly? Aren’t they? If so – why do they protest if someone appreciates their efforts if only by looking?

Listen, ladies, let me put it this way. You don’t want to be noticed? You don’t want to be looked at with admiration and adoration? That’s fine with me. Just take off your make up, your lift-up bra, your semi-transparent clothes and your expensive shoes. Put on some dumb dress from “Everythign for $9.99″ and some cheap flats. Don’t make an impression. Look average or ugly. Please. I have no problem with that. In fact – I don’t think anyone will have a problem with that.

However, if you made yourself into a queen of fashion or a new shiny star on the block and are walking down the street – don’t think that every penis carrying individual shoud just shut his eyes and pretend you aren’t there. We’re hunters, we notice flashy objects, good looking curves and attractive lines. Sorry, but if you are beautiful (or at least look like you are) – we will notice. We will look.

Or would you rather dress up nice – and no one would notice? Would you really honestly want that?

That’s where the letter ends. Honestly – we don’t know what to make out of it. To quote one of the very beautiful girls I know (and whom I have a chance to see every day): “This guy is damn right – I don’t understand those stupid bitches either. If I go out with my make up on and dressed up and in my shoes – I want men to notice. I want them to salivate every single inch of the way I will be passing them by. Otherwise I won’t feel like a married woman.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

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