Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Ladies in hiding don't get sought...


This is an open letter to womankind. Please take this in the best possible way event though it may appear that my tone is harsh and my words prickly. Let me introduce you all to a concept that has been bubbling under the surface for a number of weeks now: Hide and Seek. It has been brought to my attention that there are many available qualified, educated, handsome, ambitious suitors available and looking for female companionship. I’m not just talking about the companionship that starts with SOCO and lime and ends with an un-returned message on your Facebook wall. I’m talking about young guys, fed up with silliness, and hater girls in those leggings pretending that they are pants. I’m talking about college educated, gainfully employed, gents looking for a nice girl to make a good-faith go of it to have a re-la-tion-ship.

There was an article yesterday, in the NYT (New York Times), about our generations’ dating habits. The gist of the article is that the current 20 somethings of the world and college kids currently in school no longer know how to date. Apparently we go out in these massive co-ed groups of friends, get drunk, and then sleep with each other on random occasions. If the hook-ups go ok for a while you have a little DTR and boom, GF/BF. The article continues on to state that as a result of this hook-up culture, we have better inter-sex friendships but we have no idea what it means to date or to get to know a person 1-on 1. Here, Take a look yourself.

Food for thought…I agree that the group date may be the both the chicken and the egg of hook-up culture, but to say we can’t date is ridiculous. We can date. We just can’t find dates!

Back to the larger point. Ladies, why are all these suitable gents having issue finding nice girls to date? Maybe, they have no game. Maybe they smell. Or, just maybe, many of you need to take the “F@uck off!” signs off your foreheads and give the guy in line at the Starbucks a little more to go on than a coy smile he can’t even see. Seriously, stop thinking every dude is a creeper who wants to bang you and all of your friends just because he tried to talk to you, and maybe instead of accidentally hooking up with your buddy Chaz “Roofie-Collata” BestFriend, you can set up a nice afternoon of ice skating and coca with Joe “Good Guy” Intro-tomom.

This has been a public service announcement from Sing &Mar. Happy holidays and try not to choke on your nog.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Holiday Recipe


The cold is here upon us here in Philadelphia. Along with it comes some of the greatest comforts along with what are often some of the loneliest times. The simple pleasures of dark porter beers, flannel sheets, and all things hearty should be enough to propel us merrily through the holiday season but in a season of thankfulness with an aura of giving and sharing, what’s one to do when one is rolling solo?

It’s brutal out in the streets these days. Everyone is all bundled up and putting on winter weight from too much turkey and scotch. I know humans “store” fat for the winter but sheesh. It’s still 70 degrees in L.A. Fitness (La Fitness, C-ee-poo). I can’t tell the Belle’s from the beasts and what’s worse is that my wallet is not recession proof so I can’t even buy enough booze to stop caring which is which. All I really want to do is to get cozy with a cutie on a comfy couch by firelight whilst she whispers about how easy it would be to tie a person up with her scarf…hmmm above. But alas, all the ladies I meet seem to want to get an early running leap into the leaf pile of seasonal depression.

This period of time is also one that furnishes nostalgia. People come home from long hiatuses and reconnect with old friends, exes, jump-offs, f-buddies, crushes, unrequited loves, etc. Try this familiar holiday recipe on for size:

3 Years unspoken crush
4 Glasses double spiked cider (Special egg nog works too)
1 Warm apartment close by
Sprinkle of holiday magic and a dash of desperation

And what do you get? A curious bedfellow in the morning. That’s the bottom line if you want to take the easy way out. Not I. I have taken it upon myself to procure a blind date for this weekend. A lovely friend of mine who is an excellent judge of date worthiness has set up a romantic interlude for yours truly this weekend. I don’t have much to report except that she is apparently cute, smart, and a good dresser. Good dresser? Hey at this point, I’m just curious to meet a single person left in this city with all a job and all their teeth.

I will let you know how it goes. Maybe I will have someone else’s stockings to hang by my chimney with care after all. Otherwise I may dip into the pool of the past and drown.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Ladies of the night...


I love the night of fright, the day of the dead, the eve of the evil. There is something magnificent about Halloween that trumps the glory of all other holidays. As a red-blooded American male, I always enjoy the sight of some lovely women sauntering around town, but I often find myself wondering: "Hmm...I wonder what that woman would look like as a pirate hooker", or "I wish that group of girls sitting over there were dressed like the Pussycat Dolls"(See Left).

Enter, Halloween. The great payback. That's right, payback. Halloween is the opposite of Valentines Day. Skeptical? Let me break it down for you. What is Valentines day, really? Valentine's is a day of capitalism and misery. Valentine's makes men everywhere purchase expensive gifts they don't want to buy for women who don't need get them.

It is common to see men engage in grandiose gestures of superficial and played-out ideas of love. Hallmark, Neiman Marcus, and Debeers force feed their messages of gratuitous consumption into the minds of men nation wide. And we men dutifully respond as we rush out to buy the best roses (at a 300% markup) and to select the finest diamond engagement rings for women we don't even really want to engage. The Valentine's day holiday is made for women and it would seem that men received little in return for their gallant and chivalrous efforts, until I found this missing counter-balance for this little equation.

Halloween is the great equalizer. Women kind pays the menfolk back in droves. There has never been a better excuse for women to give in to their suppressed moral flexibilities and to dress up in the most skank-tastick outfits they can paint on. Halloween: Making normal girls dress up like rap video chicks since 1793. Slutty is the new prude and Anal is the new oral. Half naked? It's great and look, and look at the variety of costumes available: And frog (watch the video and it will make sense). Ladies, please do us men folk a favor on Halloween night. When you are looking into that mirror thinking that you look like Tila Tequila in that top or that if your skirt was any shorter it would be a belt; open up another button on that nurse's uniform and hike that mini up another inch or two for the men in your life. It's only for one day of the year and we'll make sure to try to give you some extra respect the next morning. Trick or treat.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Deception Point

They say it's hard out here for a pimp...but I don' think that to be so. In my recent intermittent dealings with the fairer sex, after a very long hiatus, it has come to my attention that the rules for what constitutes a date have changed. Where formally dating progression looked something like: Safe coffee/drinks, leading into no-strings attached lunch, which culminated into a feelings-free-for all dinner, now the dating world feels more like a blindfolded jog through a mine field and less like a magic eight ball of opportunity. Are we going out to eat or is that a bad idea because you are a vegan who only eats locally grown products? Are we going bowling or do you have problems with recycling athletic shoes? I suppose these types of issues are standard parts of getting to know the person with whom one is going out, but it seems as if dating life is getting more complicated.

Now, I'm the last one to sell someone short for being particular (many of you know I'm not particular at all), but whatever happened to the time-tested practice of conscious deception? I'm not telling you to lie about your age, name, or size but hey, omitting the fact that you hate indie rock after he surprises you with tickets to see TV on the Radio, or pretending to enjoy Flight of the Concords when watching late at night on her couch, hurts you far less than the truth would bother the other party (especially if watching it gets you to business time).

One of my favorite TV shows is How I met Your Mother which comes on CBS Monday nights at 8:30. Aside from the fact that Neil Patrick Harris (Douggie Hauser) plays and incredible character on the show, and is more generally the man, I love the show because it provides a refreshing take on modern relationships without the cynicism usually reserved by my generation. On the show, the main character, Ted, gets engaged to his girlfriend, played by the awkward chick from Scrubs (Elliot). Ted loves Star Wars and could not picture his life with a wife who could not share in this love. He shows the film to Elliot for the first time, and she says she loves it too. Ted is happy. It matters not, that she actually hated the film because, as we later find out, she loves Ted enough to deceive him for the rest of his life.

Deception can be a positive tool. "Does this make me look fat?" No. "Don't you just love that pet sweater?" Well...probably no, but if you are hot enough then maybe on your dog. Deception can be great. Maybe, I was out of touch with this dating principle. On the next date, constructive. deception will rule supreme. There are some more specifics to report definitely a cutie or two on the horizon, but not the time in which to do it so until next time keep your dates guessing with smoke and mirrors.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Prospecticus

Ladies and Gentlemen: I have another tasty treat of a tale from the land of the single which I would like to share. After another long week of doing he legal thing, I decided to play an away game on Saturday night and I snuck up off to Princeton to hang out with a dear friend of mine, Jilly from Philly, and her lovely roommate, Grace Note.
The evening was quiet, but the company was lively at the Triumph brewpub. And as one brew became two and new acquaintances became old friends, Grace Note offered up a tale of a date from her past:

Out with her date for the first time in a one on one setting, GN realized early into the date that her relationship with said boy was going to go about as well as a game of solitaire with no cards. During the date, she noticed a different, better looking boy at the end of the bar. GN waited for her date to leave for the bathroom at which point, the other boy approached. He asked her if she was dating the boring guy she with whom was sitting. She replied something to the effect of, “Not for much longer”. They exchanged numbers before the real date returned and she had already backfilled a prospect for the next date.

Initially, my idea for this post was to use the story of Grace Note, to reinforce my broader theory of women being way scummier than men (in general), but upon further reflection I think that what GN did was commendable (Grimey and ruthless, but commendable). When life hands you lemons we make lemonade and similarly, when life hands you a boring date, we recruit as more interesting (hotter) one. Who wants to sit through a brutal date anyway? As soon as it’s clear there is no spark, know that one isn’t going to just appear out of thin air (See my dates with the Lady Law is you don’t think I hold this policy close to my heart).

Prospects are the key to dating happily. Prospects of people you want to date, prospects of dates to come, and prospects of moving forward in a relationship. All gravy. If a date shows no prospects, it’s just slowing you up from other prospects. Cut and run.


Prospects people. Winter is coming and you are going to need both some quantity and quality in your stable for cold nights. Fall is the time to prepare for the cold, so act like a squirrel and get your nuts locked up for the winter.

On a side note, I wanted to say that I think I’m going to have to recant my mantra of the last post. Dating people in immediately close quarters is potentially disastrous beyond any reconcilable circumstances. Do so at your own risk and do so with the up most caution. The details of my 180 about this issue are immaterial. Just trust, that my eyes were opened to some pitfalls that had previously been undiscovered. Whatever though, if you bounce back, then nothing ever really gets you down.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Everybody's working for the weekend

Dipping the pen in the company ink is a trend that in recent years has come more acceptable in prominent mainstream society. Relaxation from the paranoia of sexual harassment and new ethical strictness in the work place that prevailed during the late eighties and early nineties leading to new flexibility regarding work-place romance.

Themes of work place romance also tie into situations in many pre-professional school programs because of the limited and recycled pool of people roaming about, the intimacy of a close-quarters work environment, and the frequency of post work boozing, boundary smudging, and accidental making out.

First, there some very good reasons to bathe in the pool of colleague flesh.
1. It’s convenient. Never underestimate the impact of proximity. The best option is often the closest option. You can carpool to work, share a cab home, or grab a nooner in the mailroom (Sky rockets in flight, boo-oop, Afternoon delight!)
2. It’s easy. At first, it’s likely you have similar schedules, common acquaintances, common experiences all of which allow you to bond. The first date conversation always has something on which to fall back to if things get awkward.
3. It’s sneaky. Everyone like a little excitement. It’s fun to have co-workers have no idea that you’re not going into Sally’s office for a brief meeting; you’re going to Sally’s office to meet her briefs.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy mixing it up with the lovely co-ed student to the right of me as much as the next law student, but what if something should go wrong? Is my indiscretion worth the consequences?

Say, something goes down and everyone finds out…
It could be awesome. Result: I’m a champ and all the other people in the office/class are jealous, intrigued, and down for the get down. Or there could be a mishap. Perhaps I had an issue of brevity, virility, or even *gasp (cough) freshness? Could I deal with the sideways glances or the jeers of my peers? Preparation to deal with the consequences would seem to be the key factor in whether or not the situation is a go or a no go, but I say nay to that idea.

Times are tough. The economy is brutal, the election has left our brains mushy and useless, and 90% of the world still hates us ( and the 10% that don’t are lying).
With these surrounding circumstances, it would appear that most of us could use a little pick me up to keep the good vibes flowing. Nothing makes a rainy day better than staying in a warm bed, and nothing makes a warm bed better than sharing it with a warm body…Roll the dice, risk the drama and have that drink with the mailroom guy. Sure she’s just an intern but couldn’t you help her get a little something extra out of this experience. Pad her resume by removing her padded bra.

Damn the man! Worse comes to worst, you get fired and join the ranks of the rest of America. But hey, if you both get fired at least you know you’ll have something to do between interviews.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Lots

Party people in the place to be. So sorry for the extended hiatus. There was a lot going on and there is a lot to talk about. Normally, I would take a moment to go into some crazy long diatribe about some relationship minutia, but seeing as how there are so many new things to report, I will get the chance to take a fresh take on classic format.

Firstly, I have rejoined the realm of this single. The blog title is therefore legitimate. I know you were all very concerned about that. In one of your typical 3 AM arguments over the status of the relationship, it became abundantly clear that for a variety of reasons, my relationship was going, going, gone. It's not for me to dwell on the details and in addition to a perpetual respect to the other party involved, I will refrain myself from sharing any of the nitty-gritty details.

I am single. That's what you need to know.

In other S&M news (Single and market, get your heads out of the gutter), I started some new academic pursuits this weekend which means two things. The return of the all-nighter (both recreational and work related), and the new pool of talent with which to work. I have lots to report about in the upcoming week so get back in the habit of checking your computer for updates. I'm about to get so ill on the single market they are going to have to hand out medication.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Uhh...whoops.

I’d like to take a moment to talk about the one of the greatest/few acceptable chick flicks of all time, When Harry Met Sally. Some may question my admission that I get ill with the rom-com genre of film, but for those of you that have had the good fortune to see this classic (and I do mean classic), you will understand that there are few cinematic pleasures like watching Meg Ryan and realizing that she was actually hot and watching Billy Crystal and realizing that he was actually funny. But I digress… The point of me gushing about WHMS is the crucial moment in the film the one night after Harry and Sally have slept together after finally having become ‘platonic friends’. Sally wakes up relaxed, comfortable, and to a fleeing Billy Crystal. Billy makes a cop out ‘I have to go to work’ excuse and leaves. Their relationship proceeds to go into Jane Eyre stage a.k.a Emo and boring.

The moral of this story is that hooking up with friends is convenient, comfortable and complicated. Let’s put it this way: It’s as likely that everything will go back to normal in your relationship as it is that everything is going to go back to normal in Iraq. It’s not just about the disasters of lackluster sexual performance Let’s look at the potential fall out for a moment from a his and her perspective:

She:

  1. Preggers (Love child with your buddy, could be worse)
  2. Diseased (That’s not a shaving scab on his lip… )
  3. Emotionally shattered ( Haagendazs and the magic wand for the next 6 months)
He:

1. Preggers (I hope she wasn’t the DUFF)

2. Diseased (So that’s what that smell was)

3. Emotionally shattered (Haagendazs and the Fleshlight (Google it) for the next 6 months)

When you cross the line to physicality with a ‘friend’ the bottom line is that you can never go back to whatever you had before you saw each other naked ( Images that scary do no leave the catacombs of the mind). Don’t try to convince yourself otherwise. Once you have you have been inside your buddy/had your buddy inside of you, saying ‘that’s what she said’ when someone says that they like chocolate bananas is not going to be nearly as funny. All of the sexual jokes are over. Viagra jokes, geyser jokes, those fat jokes you used to exchange, all off limits too. And all of that witty pseudo-sexual banter you used to have will not happen again without tears-a-flowin’.

Fortunately for all you inner circle diddlers, as long as you give yourself distance after the hook up there can be hope for your friendship. Long time goodbyes, weddings, funerals, and reunions are all fair game to bump uglies because odds are you were drunk and the endorphins were flowing (excuses abound). The one situation in which the friend hook up is strictly forbidden is the post break up condolence. No one wants to be the rebound ass, and friends don’t let friends rub their dirty parts when they are at emotional lows.

You only live once, and it all looks the same in the dark. If you are willing to push a relationship to the limit, more power to you, but don’t come to me for a shoulder to cry on…you’ll wind up pounded poked and passed along.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Virtual Insanity is what we're living in...

In light of some recent events that have occurred in the virtual realm and their subsequent influence in the real world, I have decided to address the nascent evolution of relationships and Facebook.

Today’s story come’s from a friend of mine named ‘The Blond’. Disclaimer: I have taken some elements from other, similar stories and removed some crucial specifics from hers in the interest of protecting the innocent.

The blond has been dating a nice med student (McBoring) for close to six months. She and McBoring have steadily been progressing down the line to monogamy and were post DTR boyfriend and girlfriend. The Blond came to me last week with an issue that had been troubling her regarding the relationship: McBoring had ‘refused’ to update the relationship status of his Facebook profile to read that he was ‘in a relationship'. Then, in an even more traumatic disregard for decorum, McBoring de-tagged a photo of himself and The Blond from his profile.

Apparently these two egregious events were the final straw, effectively shattering the Camel’s spine. The Blond was driven to completely reevaluate the validity and future of her relationship with McBoring. Yes, what you read was correct. Actions based in a Virtual world were about to be the catalyst for real life decisions. A lack of Facebook transparency left The Blond seriously considering the termination of a successful and fruitful relationship (with a freaking doctor!). I know she had other reasons, but she was prepared to finally end it because of a perceived lack of deference to a virtual social network. This led me to my thesis for this post and the dtatement i have been know to proclaim in many a drunken bar argument:

FACEBOOK IS NOT REAL LIFE.

It’s really that simple. Elements of the Blond’s story demonstrate a phenomenon that has recently become a plague upon the millennial generation. Who cares that he didn’t put up that you were in a relationship in the virtual world?! He is actually in the relationship. Do you want to date this person virtually or actually? You know why virtual reality sucks? It’s because it’s not real! Well that, and the fact that everything VR looks all boxy and bright like the inside of a Kaleidoscope.

I feel like I'm taking crazy pills. Just because one’s friends can’t see your new boo's devotion to you on Facebook doesn’t mean that the man/woman isn’t out there everyday taking real bullets for you in the street. He de-tagged a photo? Who cares? Maybe he didn’t want his perspective employers seeing him ripping beer bongs filled with jello shots. Or, maybe the picture made you look homely and s/he was covering for the both of you. Nobody wants to be tagged to a significant other so ugly that you would have to tie a bone around their neck to get a dog to play with them.

The important theme is simple: Nothing people put up on those sites has any bearing in the real world. Why? Because FACEBOOK IS NOT REAL LIFE. It’s basically the world’s biggest ongoing masquerade party, and when we judge it as real life we are essentially scrutinizing the changes people have made to their costumes and holding them accountable for the actions of the character they trying to resemble.

Let’s not loose sight of what Facebook really is: It’s a tool. Like a cell phone, or Crack, Facebook gives us a means to organize our social lives. Not everyone is going to use their tool in the same way, nor are we all going to use our tools with the same frequency. A tool isn’t bad, but freaking out because someone else doesn’t use their tool as often as you would like is ridiculous (this is a very funny paragraph thus far, if you read it as a 12 year old would). Have you ever been involved in a conversation like this: “Who is that skank that poked you?”, or, “Why did that dude post a 'naughty gift' on your wall?” Really? Really?! What are you even arguing about anyway?

Maybe I’m a little out of touch…like John McCain not being able to use the Internet, but I think I need to make one final request of my generation: Let’s deal with the real, so if it’s artificial let it be. And for all you Facebook addicts who I know will be tripping balls over this heed these words or advice:

I've seen people caught in love like whirlwinds/
listening to they squads and listening to girlfriends/
that's exactly the point where they whole world ends/
lies come in, that's where that drama begins

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

1 and 2 and 3 and 4...

Before I get into today’s subject matter I wanted to share a story from this past weekend with the congregation. I was at a house warming party for Nee and I saw a classic situation of a guy being a douche bag. Thinking back upon my own words about asshole guys from earlier in the week, I decided to try to play the hero and step in to run interference on the conversation, especially considering the fact that the damsel in this case was Awkward Runner. I did manage to successfully liberate Awk-runner from the fool she was talking to but in the subsequent conversation, I drunkenly word-vomited all over the place and somehow upset her even more; so much so in fact, that she later wound up crying. I was too drunk to remember exactly what I said. If I had to guess, I think it was something to the effect of “You are way too cute to let that guy speak to you like that…well normally too cute, but maybe not in that particular dress”. Whoops. I guess the moral of the story is that even with douche-blocking intentions, the old adage; it takes one to know one, still holds true.

Let’s take a moment to talk for a second about the Gym: a relationship minefield. J-Lo copped a couple of free passes to his Gym, L.A. Fitness (La fitness to C-ee-poo), so I accompanied him to check it out and to get my proverbial swell on. This gym was one of those brand new, palatial deals, with a million bikes, treadmills, and a dance studio (with tons of window/mirrors…sweet). There were more good looking people in the gym that afternoon than had been out at any bar in the Illa the entire summer, save for when me and my peeps are heavy in the streets. All of the lovely distractions running around got me thinking: I really need to tone it up… and how do you successfully pull of the inter-gym relationship?

The first complication is everyone is sweaty and half naked (at J-lo’s gym ¾’s naked). You try not to get stare but it’s hard not to look, kind of like watching the Britney Spears “I’m a Slave” video…Youtube it, trust me.

The first key is to get someone’s attention without seeming to be A) a creeper and B) some Muscle Milked, sleeves optional (sorry Rogan), asshole. I’m a big fan of the ‘asking a person about an exercise they just did’ opener. This way you demonstrate respect for what they know athletically and you are neither creepy nor an ass. Asking for help with a semi-innocuous stretch is also ok, just no groin stretches. I used to think that asking for a spot was a decent opener, but that gets a bit tricky if you find your 250 pound self accidentally asking some 100 pound lovely to spot your bench press. Avoid direct physical compliments. For both men and women the gym is a very self-conscious time so although you may think that butt looks good in those shorts, s/he may think that their Easter hams are bursting from the oven.

Let’s assume that for some reason you lucked out, got past the gym convo, and are going to go out with someone from the gym. Talking about the gym is essentially off limits. ‘Single and Market’, you say, ‘We know better than that. That’s obvious’. Not true. Many a gym date has been placed on permanent injured reserve because of a 38 minute conversation about whether GNC or Vitamin World has better wheat grass juice. Anyway, you have to have something else in common to have any type of relationship, right? You see each other half naked all the time, so since that element of surprise is gone there better be some sort of bona-fide rapport or your relationship will go down as fast as an fat kid in dodge ball.

If you do get to an ahem,… private workout, grunting like Steffie Graff (tennis player who grunted a lot), is not going to get the job done. For the guys, I just hope that all that strength and stamina translates into more than a six minute mile time, and ladies, I hope that you have been dominating your downward facing dog. Watch out though. No one wants to switch gyms because they failed an off site workout. And be careful with whom you choose to stretch and grunt, nothing ruins a good workout like a bad partner.

Friday, July 25, 2008

An Alarming Lack of Charming

In light of the recent haterade I seem to be drinking regarding my posts, and some observations I’ve made regarding mankind, I’ve decided to take a touch on an issue that is addressed to the fellas in the audience. What has happened to charm? It used to be the case the women were treasured idols in the eyes of men. There was no effort too vigorous, no task too daunting, that a man would not do it to woo a lady, but now it seems like it has all gone caput.

Guys, stop being lazy. You are not entitled to get some. Period. I was out at Sips (Wednesday city-wide happy hour) last week and I witnessed more charm-less atrocities than I have ever seen in my life. Men letting doors hit women in the chest in a rush to get into the air conditioned bar. Guys hogging seats while many available attractive women are limping in their high heals from sore feet. What is this?

I know that the last 15 years have been good to man kind. Women have turned conventional stigmas about gender roles on their heads. Women have been wearing less, getting it in more often, and more generally becoming romantically aggressive. Kudos to them, but this is not an excuse for guys to act like douches. We need to stop dabbling in douchebaggery. Seriously, stop acting like the dudes on Mad Men, you are not Don Draper, asshole. Have some consideration for those around you. Do you know why women like Veterinarians and doctors? Well, it’s because they are loaded, but they also help those in need.

You know what it takes to wow women nowadays? Not too freaking much. Just being polite, considerate, and hygienic can go a long way. What you do doesn’t even have to be directed at any women specifically. Ex. This morning I went into Starbucks for my morning coffee. The guy there knows I’m a regular and always has my coffee waiting for me by the time I get up to pay. It was Friday so I hooked him up with a $5 tip. As I went to add sugar, I looked back at the line to see three women smiling at me warmly. Now this isn’t charm per say, but a little courtesy and looking out for people goes a long way. Don’t kick puppies. Do give you seat to older women on the train. Do help people pick up stuff they drop it. Don’t ogle women as they pass by (you look like an ass to every other women looking at you).

That being said, you ladies need to act a little more grateful. That guy you let buy you a drink that you have no intention of talking to, yeah, he’s broke and that was his last $20, so if you weren’t into him at all then you should have told him. Now he’s going to eat Ramen noodles alone for the rest of the week. We get it, ladies. You are independent now. Whoop de doo, you don’t look like Paula Patton (Google her. I love her). We owe you respect and adoration, and you have to meet us half way by not being so uppidy. Smugness on a woman smells to men the same as axe body spray smells to you.

Have fun and let try to get along this weekend. A little golden rule in your life could lead to a little golden ring on your finger.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Tested

Going along with the theme of people asking questions that they don’t want answers to is the ides ‘testing’ your current romantic interest. If someone like us why do we feel the need to test that attraction? Here is an example of a test that recently happened to a friend of mine. My buddy was out with a girl with whom he had steadily been hooking up. Status-wise they are more that a friends with benefits, but rock at less than exclusivity. During a nice meal she tells him that her, single, available, and significantly cuter friend, has a crush on him. Why does she this? A test. It would appear that she wants to reconfirm that the interest my friend has in her is active and growing. By offering this open ended invitation to stick one’s foot it one’s mouth she thinks that she is being clever, coy and satisfying the objectives of giving a back handed compliment, testing his committeemen to her, and forcing him into some from of reassuring (hand cuffing) statement.

Whoops. This is the point where a test backfires. Not only has she fatally over estimated her long term longevity potential to my friend (seriously, he’s just not that into you), but she has also stoked dormant embers that she never even knew were aflame. Two weeks prior, that same other women with the crush (a BFF of the current hook up, mind you) jump-straddle kiss greeted my buddy at a bar and professed her desire to get biblical. Grimy, ladies, grimy.

Problem the first: why test you love interest with someone hotter than you? That is dumb. That is dumb like ‘letting your boyfriend go on Real World and believing his promise not to hook up with roommates’ dumb. Problem the second: don’t have grimy friends. Skankness is a plague…a beautiful, beautiful plague. Problem the third, don’t ever test a person when you are not in the power position in the relationship. That’s the relationship equivalent to lighting a firecracker and deliberately closing your fist around it. Tick…tick…gooey.

Now what will probably happen is that my buddy, having limited morals and having created no real allegiances to the test proctor girl, will wind up getting carnal with the cuter full-court pressing friend. He will end up juggling both of them for a while until the whole thing blows up like A Zack Morris double date on Saved by the Bell. Or even worse, he may actually hit it off with the test girl and the tester proctors asked to be the maid of honor at the wedding between her cuter friend and the dude.

Why test people if the results are likely not to be what you intend? Nobody likes a difficult test, let alone a difficult pop quiz. I am guilty of testing girls too. I remember bringing girls to watch a basketball game just to see if they could not talk through it (Failures). I have been tested myself…let’s just put it this way, I wouldn’t suggest any ladies test me with their cute friends because people who give opportunities to opportunists end up alone on Friday nights watching Bridget Jones’ Diary with a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough. People like the idea if honesty like they like the idea of homeless shelters: Great in principle as long as it’s not in my neighborhood. Honestly, honesty sucks. What ever happened to blind faith? Let’s go with that for a while, and maybe instead of disastrous relationship tests, we can focus on the more important things like getting uglier friends.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

Goodbyes play a crucial role in our romantic general social interaction. The question of what to do at the end of a date/hang out session/movie viewing-sleep over hybrid, can make or break a relationship and can set the tone for a relationship like the second act Romeo and Juliette (Balcony Scene) or like the final act Romeo and Juliette (Poisoning/Stabbing double suicide). The resounding truth is that both men and women loose years of their lives worrying about what to do at the end of dates and hook-ups but I have some creative offerings to help guide you through this issue as smoothly as the cops in Super Bad guided McLovin’s c*ck.

Early on in the relationship is the goodbye minefield. You get stuck on the door step/car/bathroom floor wondering how to dot the proverbial ‘I’ in the excitement that was your night out. Do you hug? Do you Kiss? Do you ass-out half hug so that your fun parts won’t touch? The truth is not so complicated. All you need to do is answer three questions to yourself and select the appropriate scope of action.

1. On the date did you do something that made you sweat in a gross non-sexy way? Salsa dancing sweat = Very Hot. Beach Volleyball sweat = kind of hot. NASCAR sweat = a little gross. The hotter the sweating context the more intimate your goodbye should be. Dirty dancing calls for frisky fingers. Friendly fishing calls for a pat on the butt and a shower.

2. Did you eat something that smells like death? No one wants to make out after you have eaten the following foods: Anything with garlic, anything with serious dairy involved (excluding redi-whip, cool whip, etc), or asparagus (look up what it does to your bodily fluids and take notice!). Everyone one likes a tasty companion. If you have chosen to partake in a food as described above, you have chosen a night for hugs, handshakes, and high fives, not one of leather, lace and, lasciviousness. And to re-iterate about the garlic: if you eat Italian food pull an Ari Gold and just hug it out, bitch.

3. How much do I like this person…tonight? There is no rule to what is socially acceptable to do for a goodbye. I say mix it up. Guys, skip the lips and make out with her neck. Ladies, who says you’re hung up on foreplay, give his crotch a firm handshake goodnight.

Most important are the non relationship related goodbyes. We call these graceful exits or escapes. There are two times when these goodbyes come into play, ‘the night of’ and ‘the morning after’. The night of scenario is a prickly pear of an escape. Preparation is the key to slipping away faster than an promise for no house-cest on the Real World. If you paid attention to where you placed the following essentials you will make life significantly easier on yourself: Shoes, wallet, phone, and keys. Clothing is negligible. You can find clothes anywhere but closets or laundry baskets are always safe bets. What’s more important, avoiding super awkward DTR/ goodbye combo punches or loosing your favorite limited-edition Nike Dunks? If you have all of the necessities your first option is the door. If the door is out of the picture, go window, but only if there is a fire escape. If your friend wakes up in the middle of the night chances are they won’t remember your name anyway so either pretend they are dreaming and do your best ghost impression or just say that you are stepping out for a bit and leave your least liked friend’s name and number behind as a token of all the night meant to you.

The morning after scenario is a little more complicated. One needs to wake up first before the other party. THIS IS CRUCIAL! If the other party is still sleeping you can size up your predicament and make the appropriate decision. If the creature next to you is in fact a creature, refer to the above and wave goodbye to your Nikes. If you are still interested and think that the person may be able to cook an decent Eggs Benedict, stick around but be wary. Once both parties are awake you have three choices. 1. Continue what you were doing the night before but this time moan the right name and put it in the right hole… 2. Pretend you don’t know where you are or how you got there, grab as much of your stuff as you can and flee like politicians from a hooker’s corpse. Or 3. Linger as long as possible until it gets super awkward. I’m talking ‘let’s go get breakfast’, ‘let’s go out on a real date’, ‘let’s talk about what this is’ awkward.

But seriously, no one expects things to go smoothly in a morning after situation (that’s why the pill exists). It’s bizarre and hilarious so go with making the situation hilariously bizarre. Throw in some cliches for good measure. A well placed ‘This is the first time I’ve ever done something like this before’ or a ‘I don’t want you to think that I’m that guy/girl’, makes everyone feel like a winner. No harm, no foul, so get out of Dodge ASAP and recap with the crew over a Bloody Mary because when you have an adult sleep over, you just made a memory. Cheers.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

My buddy, my buddy and me!

Many issues have recently been brought to my attention regarding the issue of repetitive negative patterns in relationships and general struggles meeting new potential suitors. In the last post, many readers critically examined the assertions and found that it to be a bit devoid of the original insights which they had come to enjoy (Haters). They suggested that like an over zealous first year student who dominates the discussion in an upper-class seminar (i.e. Joe Rogan’s Fist year roommate), that I was pontificating the obvious instead of providing some fresh observations. I like to refer to this phenomenon as ‘intellectual masturbation’. I apologize for nothing, haters, but in response to these critiques, and due to my own desire to hold my work to a higher standard, I offer today’s post about the dynamics of Friend of Friends (FOFs).

The FOF scenario is duplicitous in nature, for when successful, it can provide the best of the best possible scenarios, but when unsuccessful, it can create disaster of epic proportions. Everyone has a finite pool of friends; people we know, love, and have come to depend on. There is some commonality between friends that is the basis of the relationship. For many of my friends this commonality would be a fondness for Dungeons and Dragons, Chick-Rock, and Emo stuff. By this ‘similar interest logic’, FOFs are likely to share some common interests. This immediately gives them something to talk about. That, in conjunction with the common friend to make fun of, gives both parties enough material to get through at least one date and that’s half the battle anyway, right?

In the immortal words of Deep Blue Something:

You say that we’ve got nothing in common/
No common ground to start from/ And we’re falling apart…

And I said what about "Breakfast at Tiffany's?/She said, "I think I remember the film/And as I recall, I think, we both kinda liked it./And I said, "Well, that's the one thing we've got./


Now that you have met the FOF in a neutral social surrounding with the common friend present, and now that you and the FOF are BFF, here comes the tricky part: How do you go from friend-ish to dating? The first mistake people make is relying on the common friend to be Cyrano. Once you have met the new FOF, you are on your own. We aren’t in middle school anymore. Boys and girls, take some responsibility for your own actions and contact the other party directly. You are grown ass men and women. Nothing kills a budding FOF relationship by playing whisper down the lane.

Secondly, after the first date keep the conversation about the common friend to a minimum. On both sides of the equation, it is mad irritating to be trying to get to know someone and to have them only reciting wack-tack stories about you’re mutual buddy from band camp (like the one about Naughty Flautist and her late night B-dorm liaisons). Start fresh. The ice is already broken so go for a swim. If you have any game/interest in the other person, the waters will have warmed up naturally and you won’t get a cramp.

Thirdly, if it doesn’t work out do not make it super awkward forever. Mutual hang out could be awkward for a while but it can’t be weird forever. But always know that because you were just FOF's to begin with, you can always feel comfortable knowing that you have no obligation to make it comfortable if you feel like just being a dick about whole thing.

Be careful out their friends. The FOF situation can be dangerous: heed this tale from personal experience and learn this lesson. While at school a FOF visited for a weekend. As way lead unto way, it became clear that her intentions for me were anything but platonic. Due to the curious behavior of my friend and the FOF earlier in the night, I asked for some clarification about what was going on between the two of them. She told me that her friend was actually 'really into me' and that she wanted the FOF to “test the goods to make sure they were up to par” (This is a direct quote. I was drunk, but this is actually what she said). At the time, that logic seemed fine by me and the naked party continued. The next morning, I found out that apparently “testing the goods” was a one party plan that had failed to be discussed with our mutual friend. Consequences and repercussions followed.

The moral of the story is that the FOF situation is great…until it doesn’t work. Know what you are getting into before you get into it and you will be ok. It may be best to only deal with FOF’s that aren’t that close to the mutual party, just to be on the safe side. As always happy hunting and save a cute friend for me.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

A tale of two Scenarios...

This was an offering posted to my email by a reader and friend of mine. For the sake of appearances, let's call her Danielle Steele. Danielle, a very accomplished writer in her own right, and often a provider of Hitch-like services, similar to those offered by yours truly, craftily illustrates a tale of two relationships and below her commentary I offer my own musings in return:

As a woman with numerous close male friends, I have found that sexual tension, while it does not always get in the way, quite often either strengthens or destroys friendships between straight people of opposing sexes. Here is a summation of several examples:

Relationship I – Starts with a kiss, ends with a …? Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy and bats eyelashes. Boy say something standard, usually full of false confidence. Boy and girl end up … "spending some quality bonding time together" (you fill in the blank). Relationship I then goes one of three ways
i) Date City - Boy and girl really like "spending some quality bonding time together" and proceed to do so until it blossoms into a very lovely and hopefully healthy relationship. Yay.

ii) BFF - Boy and girl may continue to "bond," but eventually realize friendship is the proper route. No more bonding time is required and boy and girl live as long as is possible as friends. Yay.

iii) __ and Run - Boy and girl never see each other gain.

Relationship II – "No, we're not like that, really…"Boy and girl share a strong friendship, which did NOT begin with any physical encounter other than perhaps running into each other while each is engrossed in the latest Wall Street Journal. Lattes fly, suits are ruined, friendship is sealed for eternity. Boy and girl have such a strong relationship that they can easily confide in each other about their own relationships, etc., sometimes even revealing intimate details. These details are shared in a sacred space, as this relationship is viewed, ultimately erroneously, as devoid of sexual tension. Then, one night, maybe both boy and girl are lonely and after spilling their latest failed relationships, as the last drop of wine is sipped, they slip into something they had not imagined. Well, truthfully, maybe they had imagined it, but they had never intentionally lusted after it. Here is where, like Relationship I, the relationship can go one of three ways:

i) *Sunshine and Happiness* - This rare scenario results in a healthy dating relationship, maybe even long-term due to the nature of the strong friendship.

ii) Did that just happen? – Boy and girl laugh about how ridiculous the moment shared was and hopefully return to status quo.

iii) The End of an Era – Sadly, this DOES happen. Even what seem to be the closest of friends can experience the rapid, or even more painful, the slow deterioration of a friendship in the wake of the culmination of sexual tension. What used to be the person who would bring soup to you when you were sick, or the person who knew just when to be quiet and just when to hold you and let you cry becomes the person you both resent and love. Eventually, the resentment overcomes the love; while that boy or girl may still be the one you want to call with your latest musings, you know it'll only result in an upsetting conversation, or worse, the inevitable, "Hey, can't get to the phone right now, but leave a message …"

so now what???


xo,me. the relationship advisor who cannot maintain/start a normal relationship

OK, here is the interesting thing that I think makes up 90% of the complication/confusion that people have over these two scenarios. Essentially, the situations are fundamentally different in the way that the relationships started but then they run parallel to one another because they are fundamentally the same thing. Allow me to elaborate.

Look at point 1 relationship 1 and point 1 relationship two. they both end in successful, sustained, monogamous, dating relationships. "Date City = "Sunshine and Happiness".

Look now to point 2 relationship 1 and point 2 relationship 2. The means are a little different but the ends are the same or at least similar. The "friend zone" is the destiny of both relationships. One relationship had to go their for the first time and the other had to revert back, but the end game is the same.

And now point 3 in relationship 1 vis a vis point 3 in relationship 2. The relationships is over. That's the gist of both points. it may be more painful in relationship 2 but it also may not be. Maybe the friendship described in relationship 2 was really just an epic courting process drawn out under the guise of friendship and all either party ever wanted was to act of the tension in the first place (cynical but often true).

Now, aside from the fact that relationship 2 sounds like a bad rom-com (Romantic comedy), I feel like that scenario happens way more often than relationship 1, but the scenarios aren't always independent for relationship 1 can beget relationship 2. But the point is to address the effect that sexual tension can have on a relationship and the bottom line is that sexual tension is prevalent and pervasive in everything we do. We get signals all day from advertising, co-workers, waiters and waitresses, that really cute barista etc. and the tension is there but the key is to use it as a vehicle to get into some ones head and not just their pants. Physiologically, there is so much at play that if the animal attraction is there, we can all get a relationship 1 going on, but the key to getting to that 'ideal relationship' is to find someone with whom you can grow that sexual tension into and intimate chemistry.

We all need to slow down and stop putting pressure on ourselves to find someone. When you look that hard for something you tend to miss it anyway, and with all that's going on in the world I don't think too many of us can afford to miss out on anything. In the mean time, I say spill more lattes and make things more awkward with friends, lets not let opportunities pass us by for fear of the consequence. You have to blow up a few labs before you can split an atom.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

I'll have the usual...eh how bout what she's having

Routine is a comfortable blanket of warmth in times of uncertainty, but in times of tranquility there are routine can be the asbestos in your daycare facility. The death of spontaneity in a romantic relationship is the death of a romantic relationship. There is a reason that the first weeks of meeting a new person are the most exciting. There are the butterflies of anticipation, the thrill of the chase, and the surprise and novelty of the interaction all of which contribute to keeping us engaged and entertained. In many relationships after the first few months the novelty fades along with our interest, just like a child tires of a holiday toy by the third week of January.

The natural reaction to this new ennui is one of two paths: The termination of the relationship, or an increase the severity/ commitment. The DTR (Define the relationship) talk comes in to play. Are we a couple? Are we just friends (unlikely, men and women struggle to be just friends i.e. When Harry Met Sally)? Fuck Buddies? Soul mates? Do I even know your last name? First name? The DTR is a dangerous bridge to cross. But I digress. Defining anything leads to preventing spontaneity. Organically grown produce is probably better for you than produce dipped in pesticides, and organically grow relationships are probably better for you than those dipped in titles and formalities.

A friend of mine, who will be named the Voice of Reason, recently engaged in an escapade which is worth sharing for the sake of reaffirming my point. She is currently engaged in an on again off again relationship with a young man from the mid west. Over the last few weeks *cough* months, she has been in a pseudo friends with benefits/booty call hybrid of a relationship and she was getting to the point where she wanted to have a version of a DTR. Now, what she wanted out of this talk was not to be the GF or to break the thing off, but just an acknowledgment that when two people are intimate, they share a bond that goes beyond a Flash drive entering a USB port.

While at work the other day (she runs a camp) she took a brief break to hang out with said boy and his buddy. While in a store changing room she beckoned him to join her on a whim and proceeded to get that good old fashioned, ‘I’ll even stay for a while to cuddle’ loving. The spontaneity was there in full force, along with the heat pumping exhibitionism, and the prospect of a legendary story to be told. This day moved into that night when she had to drive 50 miles out of her way in the middle of the night to help him with car trouble (adversity…another spontaneous stimulant of lasciviousness) and was rewarded with some of that Keeanu Reeves/ Sandra Boluck from speed loving:

(after surviving the subway explosion)

Annie: You're not going to get mushy on me, are you?

Jack: Maybe. I might.

Annie: I hope not, 'cause you know, relationships that start under intense circumstances, they never last. Jack: Oh yeah?

Annie: Yeah, I've done extensive study on this.

Jack: OK then, we’ll base it on Sex.

The moral of my story that I want all of you to take with you is that when you go out there to mix it up, you really need to be mixing it up. Did she have the DTR...no not really, but at least now she is getting something positive out of the situation and may help figure out what she really wants in the long term. Ham and cheese sandwiches everyday for lunch don’t lead to a love for ham and cheese; they lead to the new sexy chicken salad on a pita, or even a bowl of paella. Don't wind up ham and cheese! Head my words.

Good luck this holiday weekend and if you hear what I say then you may just spark some fireworks of your own. Oh and if you need some courage to get your creative juices flowing, I‘ve been told that alcohol is a great way to learn how to be spontaneous in a hurry.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Sign Language

The Patriots were guilty of it. The Phillies just got accused of it. But if it is so easy to do, then why to people have trouble seeing and interpreting signs? It has been documents that a tremendous amount of communication is non-verbal. We give off vibes (baller waves) to prospective mates during the attraction tango in order to entice, enthrall, and engage. This leads me into one of the most prolific ongoing discussion of my dating life: Why do people think the signals they are sending actually get interpreted at all, and furthermore, why don’t we pick up on the signals we are being given?

Typically, it has been my experience that many women are tremendously frustrated as a result of men missing, what they consider to be obvious signals. Newsflash ladies: none of your ‘obvious’ signals are obvious. The world of men is a world of blunt, concise, and clear communication. Here are some examples to put this statement into perspective:

When a person in you party is ill smelling, “Dude, you smell like ass”.
When a guy acts like a D-Bag, “Dude, you’re acting like a D-Bag”
When a guy is into a girl, “I want to be on you”
Etc.

The problem is two fold and must be addressed in two separate ways. The first problem is a problem of Transmission. Place yourself into the following situation: Saturday night at a popular speak-easy. A top-forty blaring, alcho-pop sipping, strobe light flashing kind of atmosphere. Men and Women hear me, subtlety is not your friend in this environment. Ladies, the hair brush back, semi smile, momentary eye contact strategy doesn’t work when the your target is on the other side of the room, with 4 Bud light girls, 3 flat screens, two guys doing Jagger bombs, and a partridge in a pear tree all in the way. Hear this novel concept. Go approach a guy. You don’t have to go up to him when he is with all of his buddies. Wait until he goes to the bar by himself or wait until he goes to the jukebox, out for a smoke, whatever. Just say, “Hey, my name is Halle/Scar-Jo/ Naomi (That’s ‘I moan’ backwards) and watch how easily you open a conversation.

Girls, I always say this so listen and listen good. It is far more difficult than you think to walk up to a group of women and generate some sort of rapport out of thin air. How many times since you turned 12 have men ogled, cat called, hit on, and pick up lined you before? You are trained to dismiss 98% of all gentleman callers. Men have to fight off nerves, their boys peer pressure, the other dudes trying to talk to you and then find something memorable/ amusing enough to get you to stay in a convo for longer than the ‘What’s your name/ What do you do?’ conversation. It’s a rough life.

The second problem is a problem of reception. Men, we have all been told what interested women act like, right? So act like it, damn it! And for those of you that haven’t, let me help you. A book I read once referred to the signals women give as “Indicators of Interest” (IOI). IOI’s come in many forms and women are crafty so you need to actively looking for them while out. Firstly, keep your head on a swivel, and stop watching the game/beer girl/ strobe light and watch the women around you. The first IOI is always eye contact. Look for the quick glance, look away, sustained eye contact combo. If you get that, for heaven’s sake, go talk to the woman. Second is the eye-contact smile combination. If you get that, go talk to the woman, dumb ass. Thirdly is the ‘Hey my friend over there thinks you are cute but she is shy’ IOI. Hmm…buy that girl a drink and get over there, Don Jaun.

Don’t get me wrong, these signals are not always as blatant as Tara Reid’s boob job but they are there and remember, most women just want some guy to come up to talk with them. It’s just as awkward for them standing half undressed, alone at the bar, as it is for you shot-gunning PBR in the corner with your frosted tips and extra-medium Tee.

Let’s all try to help each other out and maybe we can re open the lines of communication.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Wingman/Woman

The Wingman is a crucial participant in navigating the single world around us. Whether they are referred to as ‘Bro’s’, ‘The Crew’, ‘The Posse’ matters not, as long as they serve with honor and distinction. It has been brought to my attention by one of my near and dear friends that I have been doing an injustice to one of my greatest wingmen. Hollywood Harruki wrote me the following message after having been a faithful reader over the last few weeks:

“J-Lo needs a new name. He may have had this nickname before Jenny even made it to the block, but unfortunately she is more famous and hence, J-Lo is no name for a wingman”.

So, avid readers I put it to you. Please come up with a new alias for the Goose to my Maverick, J-Lo. HH is right, I have disrespected the wingman role and besmirched its honor and that is why I ask for any and all suggestions for a new name for J-Lo. He needs a name that does justice to the way that he acts like that Latin guy that can dance, grinding up on you, making you feel dangerous but also safe. Please submit your suggestions to the comments section so all the readers can share in the debate.

I have chosen to share with you some crucial thoughts on wingmandom (or wingwomandom for those of you ladies out there about to cut me for being so male-normative). Additionally, I have included an independent wingman hand book, which includes some of the finest wingman information ever written by someone that isn’t me (I will post it later because I don't know how to do that yet).I will break this analysis into sections to make it easily digestible and although some sections are gender specific, I encourage everyone to read everything for the sake of transparency.

1.Choice of Wingmen/women: Keep it on par with your self. Your company is a reflection of your personality. There is nothing worse than being the one in the party stuck with the weakest link. Ladies know when they have the ‘smelly guy’ (Breath and B.O.), the social pariah, or the close-talking, inappropriate touching guy, and they will spread discomfort to the other ladies in the group faster than Amy Winehouse smokes a rock. And boys, you know you never want to get stuck with the D.U.F.F (Designated, ugly, fat friend).

2. Personality mesh: If you are the shy guy, don’t bring along more shy people. If you are the loud socialite, don’t bring you bff from South Jersey (those chicks are loud). Balance the wing men so that your team can adjust to any situation. Here’s a nice formula. 1. Funny person 2. Shy person 3. Slutty person 4. Smart person 5. Artsy person. I know stereotypes are wrong but use this as a rubric. This set up gives the group good personality balance and makes all parties seem more interesting.

3. Know when to back off: No fighting over targets. Ever. Period. Know when to bail and sort it out in advance if you can. Sometimes once a conversation gets going you may have to pull a shift, but do so with tact and all should be gravy, baby.

4. Keep the social flow: Tasty Bevvies help keep everyone loose and try to remember, it’s all about having a good time. Worse comes to worst you can always just find some new people to scheme upon so keep you heads up and your game tight.

Hopefully this helped some of you out. Please make adjustments to my these theories at your own risk. Love, and more to come.

"This chick's rockin' your bro on the dance floor...
But she's towin' an anchor/ A junior investment banker
Who's talkin' about herself and not much moooooooore!!/
So buy her a beer /That's the reason you're here
Mighty Wingmaaaaaan You're taking one for the team/ So you're buddy can live the dream Wing-maaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnn "

Monday, June 23, 2008

"All I want is sex and cheese steaks"

What a week. With the whirlwind of changing statuses in the proverbial Facebook relationship column in my life who knew if I would have the will or the content to blog on, but here it is Monday morning and I write to you with plenty of material, energized and perplexed but ready to solider on.

There was a special guest appearance this whole weekend by the one known as Mr. Beebs. He is a lobbyist ( I did not take any of his donations) and he is also an avid Pearl Jam fan, up for the two Philly shows that were actually in Camden, NJ (lots of guns). Friday night I dropped Mr. Beebs off at the concert and went out with my wingman du jour, J-Lo. Another friend of ours, Anweezy made a guest appearance as he was also up from D.C. this weekend.

We met up with two female friends of J-Lo at Drinkers in Olde City. Drinkers is the type of place you go to drink 40's of Miller high life (the Champagne of Beer) and to generally not spend more than 15 bucks on a round for yourself and three other people. It's cheap, and because it's cheap the crew of fools at the bar tends to be a mixed bag: The hipsters, the preps, the prepstars, the goths, the greeks, the geeks, the homies, the haters, the candlestick makers etc.

Off topic again...I have to work on that. Anyway, we meet these two friends of J-Lo's. One is J-lo's recent tryst. a former cheerleader, what she lacks in looks, she makes up in spirit. She could be cute but she is a little Squidgy and I remind J-lo of this every time we see her but on the scale of zero to 1 (This is the only scale that matters. Zero is a no go, no negotiations. 1 is a would do. There is no room for elaboration or caveats) she is a 1 so all is fair in love and war.

Her friend, who will get no name shout out, was wasted and putting on a full court press to this tall guy at the bar who looked exactly like Psycho T from the University of North Carolina. When she came back to the table to ask for the green light, I told her that he looked the the type of guy that would cut out her liver and leave her bleeding in a bathtub full of ice. Needless to say, she was thrilled with my assessment of her man-candy's character, and proceeded to chew me out for being a hater. It's OK to call me a hater...I'll wake up in the morning and still have my liver.

While all of this was going on, the Squidgy chick was going all Tim Rus on me (R.I.P) trying to get the scoop on J-lo and whether he wanted to wife her up. Note to self ladies: stop asking questions that you don't want to hear answer to! A simple principle, ignored by so many, that could save many a half dressed woman from a fight (Does this make me look fat?) or many a married woman from divorce ( Which one of my friends would you want to sleep with if you could?).

Because I'm nice but blunt, I told her that she needed to figure out what she wanted from the relationship first and then worry about J-lo. Total cop out, but I was tired and wanted to get out of there and go home. After J-Lo limped his way out of the bar, we offered the ladies a ride home. The lady friend of the Squidge way venting because of the lack of loving she had received: "He wasn't so bad. He wasn't that bad. I don't understand why it has to be so complicated. All I want is sex and cheese steaks! Sex and Cheese steaks!"

Ladies, you wonder why men say women are crazy and then nights like these happen. I know we don't make it easy on you but you sure don't make it any easier on yourselves.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Zigged when you though I was zagging

I think we have thrown a wild card into the deck, blogaholics. I few days ago I had one of those wake up and today is going to be different kind of days and I arose with a fresh outlook on the single life. I hit the ex up with a text saying that we needed to talk, and she actually responded saying that she was up for a chat. This was a positive step considering we hadn't spoken in about a month. I suggested that we meet at the Bishop's Collar, a lovely speakeasy round the corner from her apartment.

The day at work was filled with a complex combination of anticipation and a completely inappropriate level of calmness. I didn't have a plan for what I was going to say, and I hadn't entirely figured out how I should go about telling her what I was thinking. I hit up a mutual friend of mine and the GF, who suggested that maybe this time, because the stakes we so much higher, I should put some forethought into my actions instead of going in well intentioned but ass-out.

With the advice of my friend still resonating in my ears, I developed a plan of attack. Perhaps instead of my normal aloof attitude and keeping my cards close to my chest, I should roll the dice and lay it out there. Nothing says, I'm sorry like vulnerability. I made sure to get to the bar 15 minutes before i told her to meet me so I could find my position of choice to post up. I pounded a tasty bevy, Allgash white i think, and waited. She showed up a little late (probably to make me sweat...hater). We exchanged greetings and picked a table out on the sidewalk because the bar was loud and after a few superficial pleasantries, I went to work.

"I'm a dumb ass." That's right, that's what I lead with. And I will tell you why for those of you in disbelief of my humility. I was a bit of a dumb ass. I was dating a very sweet, intelligent, caring, supportive girl and I freaked out a little bit about the increasing seriousness of the relationship. I mean I am only a youngster, like barely remember the 80's youngster, so when people (not her) started asking me about engagement plans, and moving in together et cetera, I just projected their questions as her questions and panicked. She had never put that pressure on me and I had come to the decision to break up with her without trying to work out our issues first which was neither fair, nor smart.

I missed her. She missed me. Drum roll... we got back together. And now for the most important part. What does this mean to you, my dear readers? It means that the format of this blog is going to evolve as all things must. I will maintain my critique of the absurdity of dating and being a single (non-married/engaged) person in the Illadelph. I will still point out the absurdity of man and woman kind, in bars, at parties, and in the streets. I will still provide the heard-hitting reports of hard headed actions without spin. So many do so much that is so foolish that I will always have much to share with you. Foolish singles beware, I will be lurking. There may also be some posts/ comments coming from the GF, so my critiques and observations will have deeper prospective and balance.

Hold tight with me and I will keep it really real with you. Boom, that just happened.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Thrust back into the swing of things...

What has two thumbs and a weekend update? This guy! The weekend events have gone off without a hitch and my evening with Lady Law de-flowered me back into the world of dating. I was looking remarkably fresh in my polo and cream boat shoes if I do say so myself, and I even ventured so far as to tuck in my shirt in an effort to at least play the part of an adult. We met in the lobby of my building at the bizarrely specific and arbitrary time of 6:05. (Who says 6:05 really? I mean is this a black-op for the special forces?) The adrenaline was flowing and the anticipation was building so without further adieu:

Being the man, I made sure to have a plan for dinner in case she didn't go for my "I wanted to let you choose where we eat to demonstrate my respect for women routine". She clearly declined to make a selection (or to offer any insight on any food preference...grrr) which left me to revert back to the plan. I suggested Tria which is my spot; wine, cheese, and gourmet goodness for your face (Nik-nificent knows how we get down). Tria was also a great selection because there were obviously drinks involved which helps the social flow difficulties that often pop up on a first date. It also offers foods that come in various portion sizes so she could either crush 3 sandwiches like Kobayasih or nibble at nothing like Kate Bosworth .

As the conversation started flowing and we started drinking, there was much to be said about the restaurant and the menu offerings. She was a little bit stifled by the abundance of menu options and as the pangs of hunger began to ring forth from my belly, I inched towards frustration. Never get between a man and his Prosciutto di Parma, Grana Padano and Fig Jam Panino (At $8½ it's a bargain). The conversation was light and friendly and apparently we looked like we were having fun. My stalker friends, J-Lo and Tandy Gold sat at the restaurant across the street and paparazzi ed the balls out of my date, but they didn't interfere so I pushed forward. (Way to be creepy).

As the conversation droned on I realized that I'm just not that into LL. There was no spark and that was that. We took a walk through Rittenhouse square after dinner and although the convo was free flowing the magic was not in the air (the hot garbage smell was in the air instead). After two accidental yawns on my part we called it quits and hugged it out. I don't think I'm in a rush to reach back out to her but who knows. Pretty painless and pretty uneventful is the report. I give myself a B. I did have the home court advantage at Tria but she fumbled the menu and pissed me off. I also got distracted at one point by the very cute rear end of a very cute waitress who was "accidentally" backing her bum onto my plate and it was funny at the time but once I realized I was more interested in the rando waitress' back end then my dates front, I knew the date was doomed.

Later that night my friend Nee had a champagne party at her apartment. Awk-Runner was in the spot with a bunch of wack-tacular friends. I don't know if it was the bubbly or the heat but her awkwardness seemed more awkward and less cute this time around. We didn't talk too much but I got the impression that cute quirks are only cute for a while and then you want to end yourself like the people in The Happening (awful film btw, if you see M. Night whatever, punch him for me). A girl can not subsit on cute quirks alone...ahem Lisa Loeb.

All in all seems like a back to the drawing board weekend. Little on the horizon and much in the rear view but I will persevere, the saga continues...

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Baby steps

What up, I think I set this new post up so that a few of my buddies would get notified when I posted. If you hate me for doing this and don't want the emails send me something and I will take you off the list, but if you find these literary tid bits tasty, like little mint on your hotel pillow, listen up.

Lady Law has made a resurgence into contention with an email out of the blue last night. it was short, but it was sweet and it contained a joke involving three captions and three pictures of lions. The tile of the whole thing was "stages of man". The first caption said single and had a picture of a male lion mounting a female. I got that. The second caption was married, with a picture of a female lion roaring at a male. That was less funny. The final caption was divorced and the picture was of a dead, skinned lion.

Now for a second email, this is a bold message. It seems to say, "I'm funny and laid back...but I will cut your balls off if I get the chance". Why do girls think sending stuff like that is funny to a guy? And then they wonder why guys call women crazy...and then bang them anway and never call them back. I wrote her a response implying something about her having praying mantis tendencies and we may have a coffee date on Friday. I'd just like to get through the date intact, head atop my body.

I also just got passed along a number from my friend, Nee. My buddy j-Lo and I met up with my firend Nee at a Phills game with her friend, Awk-runner. I thought AR was kind of cute and apparently in a drunken stupor, asked Nee if I could give her a call. Nee and I had lunch yesterday and I was passed along the Awk-runner's number and told to call. Awk-runner is cute and tan, blonde with some freckles and has a runners build. She is also deliberately or in-deliberately one of the most awkward people of all time. I'm talking credit card rejected on a date at a fancy restaurant awkward. I'm talking caught by the bride with in bed with her sister on your wedding day awkward. Still...it's kind of fun to be with a person aware of their own awkardness, there is always a spark in the air.

Can't hurt though, she's cute and I need to get back out there. Time to man up...

Friday, June 6, 2008

First Friday

Updates my friends, updates. Seeing as I got no response to my death-bed email to Lady Law, I take that as a sign that either witty banter can only bring a relationship into the intorduction phase. Seeing as I am not interested enough in this girl to actually call her, nor is she cute enough to make me feel guilty for not being more intrested, I will chalk this entire interaction up to laziness and move on from there.

First Friday is name of the game tonight. For those of you not urbane enough to have some version of this highly ubiquitous occurrence in your metropolis, First Friday is a day where galleries are open late and artists come to peddle their wares on the street. Free entertainment and booze prevail and you get a combination of wannabe hipsters, high school kids drinking free wine, old "I'm trying to still be hip" people, and youthful urbanites looking for a good time and thier first piece of non-ikea art.

There is always a colorful crowd and I am hopeful that between the throngs of people in cut off jean shorts and excessively large sunglasses, I can find a few nice girls in some colorful American apparel dresses to keep me company. I have my wingman, J-the force is strong with that one-Lo and we a prepared to do some damage. I'm all brushed up on my Jasper Johns and my Deathcab for Cutie so I'm locked and loaded for this artsy crowd. It's all deadly.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

The point

So, I joked with many a person about actually doing this and I thought that it was time to put my money where my mouth was. Here's the scoop, after a long but fruitful 3.5 year relationship, I am back on the single train and learning what it is really like to be a young single man in Philadelphia. I came access a very funny and insightful blog called girl about Philly (http://www.girlaboutphilly.blogspot.com/) where a lovely lady shares the trials and trepidations of her love live with a few of her readers in some lovely anecdotes.

Now, I 'm going to just jock her style and run with her formula because a) She is more clever than I am and b) that's not the point of this conversation. I just felt that with some of the wack-tacular, pseudo ridiculous, and foolish things that happen when I engage with the opposite sex, I could pass along a lesson or two. Maybe even provide a laugh from time to time.

With that being said about motivation and conscious, lets get this party hoppin. i am officially two weeks out of the relationship. Still in that wounded animal type phase where other girls are pretty to look at, but I secretly fear that they are waiting to feast upon my flesh. It's a real tight rope, the rebroadcast of one's self to public about newly discovery single status. Your friends give you that weird "how do I react to this news" look. If they are like my boys, they buy you a beer too many, the champagne of beers , Miller Highlife, and you drink until it makes sense or until the next morning appears in the form of mask of chunder.

Interesting new update. I actually did meet a nice new prospect whom I will refer to as the Lady Law. LL apparently works in my building and thanks to an impromptu race to the elevator button (which I won but she never knew we were racing) we stuck up a convo and I gave her my card. Well, she actually emailed me and I sent her one back because I was sick and didn't want to call her sounding like I might die mid-filtration. I think I'm going to ask her out to coffee. We'll see how that goes.