Dear Abby

Remember that show Best Week Ever? I have no idea whether or not it’s still on the air, but here’s my submission for last week: I went on a date with a Spaniard who thought I was Persian. I’m half Irish and half German-ish, I think…  but definitely questioning the recent change I made in hair color. A few days later, I went on a date with a gay man.  Don’t me wrong, he was lovely. I just hope for his sake he realizes he doesn’t care for women. Lastly, there’s a guy who I actually like, with whom I’ve been on four genuinely good dates. When asked whether or not he’d be attending my Red, White, Blue and Rainbow Olympics party (that’s right, F-U Putin and your lack of respect for basic human rights) told me he actually had to go to another daytime party IN BROOKLYN and couldn’t make it, even after. I may have to stop dating again. This is miserable.

Cool transition in 3… 2… 1… It would be tremendously helpful if there were some sort of digital, on-demand Dear Abby for dating where men could field the perfectly normal questions I have going into a given date. I feel like I’m not alone in needing a man’s point of view to answer simple queries like:    

•        Should I text him?
•      Do men care if you wear a plaid shirt out on a Saturday night when there’s a foot of snow on the ground and your everyday, sequined garb seems absurd?
•       If the end goal is really to not die alone with cats, is telling someone 9:30p on a weeknight (and a weekend night, if I’m honest) is too late to meet up okay? Ugh.
•       Are you sure I can’t text him? My feeling is what do I really have to lose? OK, OK I won’t.
•       What’s a sane way to convey the message “I’m not sure I’m ready to sleep with you yet because sex makes people insane, I don’t need any more crazy in my life and I might actually like you? However, I appreciate you coming in all the way in from Greenwich and it’s late, so feel free to come back home with me for a PG-13ish adult sleepover.”
•      If I want my vintage necklace back from someone who I never want to see again, is it acceptable to ask him to FedEx it to me or meet up for the singular purpose of giving it the fuck back?  

You know, just the basics

The thing is – and this is nothing I’ve never said before – dating is hard. And soul-sucking. And demoralizing. With very little ROI… well, on investment of time and effort, anyhow. They pick up the tab. We aren’t savages.

At the risk of sounding like a big city snob (in no way do I actually care about that – NY is the best) I’m fully aware we city-dwellers have it infinitely easier. I pulled up Tinder when I was visiting my parents in Florida recently and it made me want to shake up a bleach martini with a comet rim. It was depressingly terrifying. But that’s not my point.

My point is, it’s incredibly challenging to successfully navigate across the street in this fucked up game of Frogger we play. When you find something good, or even potentially good, you don’t want to screw it up. I’m not even talking looking down the road to having successfully maneuvered that joystick into avoiding being flattened by a truck, getting you past the 5^th level and down the aisle. Please. I just mean I want to, even for a minute, avoid the sideshow freaks out there. 

And lest you think I exaggerate, be my guest. Feast your eyes on some of the real peaches of men I’ve had the pleasure of coming across recently. 

Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? 

THIS is what you choose for a quick, "about me" blurb? Please pretend I died.

Hey look, you have an ax! I definitely want you to know where I live.

He claimed to be an exhibitionist, not a sex addict. Sorry for the peen pics if you're reading at work. (#sorryimnotsorry)

Forget it. If this is what's out there, I give up. Bring on the cats. 

If you are reading this and you are in a committed relationship of any sort, stop what you’re doing and go tell that person you love them. Or like them or whatever. Seriously, go do it. Because you don’t have to deal with this shit. 

vennifer.