Rejection 101: Knowing How and When to Reject Someone (and how to react when it happens to you)

How to Handle Rejection

 

[dropcap]R[/dropcap]ejection is a part of life.  Everyone experiences it.  Everyone doles it out.  Accept it.  Learn from it.  And move on.

That being said, I’m continually shocked at how many differing opinions there are about when and how you should reject someone.  Now, it’s possible that I’m wrong.  I’m not.  Or it’s possible that there is more than one right answer.  There is not.  And it’s also possible that each dating scenario is so unique and individualized that blah blah blah.  They are not.  The truth is, with a little common sense, integrity, and not shitty-personness, anyone can figure out the right answer for their particular dating dilemma.

But just in case you lack the experience to problem solve your dating scenarios, I’ve made a list of some of the most common dating cease-fire situations and how to proceed should you find yourself in them.  Additionally I’ve included a little blurb about how to appropriately react should you be on the rejection end of the stick.

1.  The initial online dating message.

Now this may be one of the few situations where both sides make good arguments.  On the one hand, if I get a message on a dating website and I’m not interested I simply don’t respond.  The truth is that most messages that I’m ignoring are absolutely ridiculous and/or took virtually no effort to write, thus they don’t deserve my time to compose a thoughtful gentle rejection message.  On the other hand, I have heard from a few guys that they would rather get a rejection message because it makes it so they remember the girl and thus don’t bother her again.  Except here’s the thing, if you don’t remember the girl, it’s either because you didn’t craft a thoughtful PERSONALIZED eloquent message to her or you were just throwing bird seed, which when online dating is fine I guess, except screw you for then expecting her to waste her time to message you back.  Maybe instead of sending a ton of shitty messages you should send a medium amount of moderate ones.  Just a thought.  But honestly, I don’t think rejection is required here.  There is no relationship, there is no effort owed, if he or she doesn’t respond, move the fuck on.  This is the least of your dating woes to worry about.

Do not send a crazy message about how you just want to know and that it’s rude for them not to respond.  You’re wasting your time chasing after someone who isn’t interested in you online, when you could be crafting a better message to the next person who is better suited for you.  Take it all in stride, my friend.

2.  The online dating message disappearing act.

So you’ve been messaging back and forth and everything seems great.  And then suddenly the messages stop.  What is one to think?  I will tell you what one is to think.  Nothing.  Move the fuck on.  There are a billion reasons why someone might stop talking to you online even though, I know I know, you thought you had a connection.  It’s frustrating.  It’s irritating.  You just want to know are they just busy? is it something I did?  But you may never know.  Maybe they got more serious with someone else they were dating.  Maybe you put up two more photos and they didn’t like them.  Maybe you changed your profile and they didn’t like it (or maybe they just read it for the first time).  Maybe they’re feeling fat and don’t want to go out.  Maybe they just started a new job, are moving, began a love affair with ice cream.  You’ll likely never know.  Best to just forget it because while I love knowing things, I can’t in good conscience advocate that someone spill the details of their life in explanation to a relative stranger on the net.  There are more important things to be doing in life.  This is not a rejection required scenario.  Move on.  Case closed.

If I actually thought they would respond, I would suggest a simple message asking why the fade so that you could get closure but the truth is they most likely wouldn’t respond and then not only have you wasted your time but you’ll be even angrier for the second ignoring and this leads to no good.  Move on.  Simple as that.

3.  The first date.

Whether or not a rejection is required after a first date is based upon two things:  your gender and what you said on the date.  Now you could make an argument for ignoring socialized gender roles etc. but these are my opinions and they come from my experiences with dating, and that’s about all I have to say on that.  Take it or leave it.  So, let’s assume whichever gender you are, the first date was a bust, but not such a bust that both parties on the date are totally aware.

If you’re the guy, whether or not you need to politely reject the lady is based upon what you said on the date.  If you were polite, and neutral, then no rejection is necessary.  However, if you said things like let’s do this again sometime or I’d love to take you out again, I had a really great time or anything that indicated you were into her and wanted to go out again, then yes, you have to reject her.  And let’s be real, it’s incredibly easy to do so.  Send her a simple text message or online message.  It was great to meet her, and though you may have given the impression otherwise on the date, you just don’t think the connection is there and wish her all the best.

If you’re the girl receiving this message, a polite thank you for letting me know and all the best is how you should proceed.  Even if you thought the date went awful too.  Even if you didn’t want to see him again.  Or maybe you really really did.  Doesn’t matter.  Keep that shit to yourself.  Act like a lady, be kind, be gentle, be BRIEF!!!

If you’re the girl, whether or not you need to politely reject the guy is based upon whether or not he pursues something further.  If the date went awful, perhaps he knows it and doesn’t pursue further (and thus you’re off the hook).  If, however, he sends you a message or text or phonecall asking you out again, don’t be a dick, all you have to do is simply tell him you’re not interested.  So unbelievably simple.  No connection or didn’t have a good time or whatever.  Though I urge you away from giving bullshit excuses like I’m busy or I’m not ready to date because he’ll likely not interpret correctly and thus you haven’t solved the problem at all.  Plus, honestly, you’re a ass for not being authentic.  Be polite.  Be real.  Be swift.

If you’re the guy receiving this message, don’t be a jerk.  Thank her for letting you know and wish her all the best.  It’s really so simple to be good people.  She saved you some wasted time, why wouldn’t you want to be nice to her.

4.  Anywhere between two to eight dates.

If you’ve gone out with someone two or more times, and you don’t want to see them again, you owe them a rejection.  Now I know some people will disagree with me here but allow me to explain.  If I go out with someone once, this says I met someone knew and we tried to get to know each other.  If I go out with someone twice, this says based on our first date, I’m interested in hanging out again.  Now I’m not saying we’re soulmates or offering up any kind of commitment or emotional investment, I’m simply saying that we hung out once, let’s do it again.  That being said, because of gender roles and all kinds of bullshit where boys throw birdseed and like the chase and all that jazz, I am forced into what I call “the waiting period”.  While unfortunate, this is currently a reality in dating.  Girls, waiting for boys, to make moves, like asking them out again.

So here’s the thing.  Say I go out with Joe, we have a good time and he asks me out again.  The following Friday we go out and I think we have a great time.  Joe, however, has noticed what he views as numerous flaws in my personality (or maybe it’s not even about me, his ex just revealed she wants him back), either way, Joe no longer wants to see me again.  It’s Saturday morning and I’m still abuzz from the good time I had last night.  I’m a girl and while I keep my crazy to myself (and the blog), I spend the next few days trying to temper my excitement about hanging out with Joe again, after all we did have a really great time on our date (or so I thought).  Days go by, Joe sends a nonchalant text asking about a story I’m writing or an event I was going to or some other idle chatter.  We ask about each other’s weekends, he says he’s really busy with work and suddenly I’m sitting there wondering if this is code for he’s just not that into me or if he’s actually busy. No biggie I say and spend the weekend trying not to worry about it (and instead have a great weekend).  Finally around wednesday or even the following weekend Joe tells me about his ex or that he’s not interested or whatever.  And that’s where we see that I just spent two weeks excited for a dude who could’ve saved me the wasted time and anguish by simply rejecting me the moment he knew he wanted to.  And while you can say things like well just don’t get excited over guys (which is a whole other can of worms because if I didn’t get excited over a guy, I’d probably never date anyone)…the truth is this.  When you waste someone’s time because you’re too chicken shit to just be honest with them…you’re an asshole.  It’s that simple.  Rip the fucking bandaid.  The person will get over it, I promise.

Plus, I’m not saying that you need to tell anyone you talk to whether or not you’re interested in them within the first 30 seconds, we’re talking about people you’ve gone on dates with, repeatedly.  In repetition there is the reasonable expectation that you like them.  So if you don’t, put them out of their misery.  You wouldn’t let an injured horse suffer, why would you make your date.  Just sayin’.

As for how to do it?  It’s still simple.  A text, a phonecall, an email.  While some people may get all crazy about the method of how something is done, the truth is they’re usually just hurt at being rejected (which is normal) and it’s less about the medium than the message.  So be thoughtful and kind but blunt.  Don’t send mixed messages, just be honest, you’re not into them.

If you get this kind of rejection, it’s okay to feel hurt, that’s life.  It’s even okay to moan about it to your friends and throw a hissy fit in the privacy of your own home.  What you want to do is respond politely and rationally and keep the crazy to yourself because the truth is the hurt and anger will fade and you never know if that person will have taught you something or will have another role in your life.  Don’t burn your bridges like a crazed lunatic, eat some ice cream and get past it.

I could go on and on with the rejection scenarios but I think we all know that anything after 8 dates and there is no question about whether or not the rejection needs to be happen.  That being said, always remember that mixed messages get you nowhere.  Don’t tell them nonsense about your emotional state.  Don’t give them hope for a future that isn’t there.  Tell them the truth and spit it the fuck out already (they probably have things to do and you’re just standing in their way).

Be blunt, be honest., rip the bandaid and for the love of whatever tone down your own ego already (try to remember that it’s unlikely that you’re actually the centre of someone else’s world and with a cooling off period, they will, indeed, get over you.  You are not that special).

How to Reject Someone (so that you don’t give them PTSD)

 

[dropcap]O[/dropcap]ne of the more fascinating outcomes of sex, dating and relationship blogging is people believing you to be an expert of some kind. Seriously. In the two and a half years that I’ve been spilling detailed beans about my own foibles, faux pas’ and triumphs people have started treating me like a sexual swami or something. Co-workers have been known to stop by my desk to get my opinion on their latest dating mishap, friends call at all hours to get my point of view and virtual strangers corner me at dinner parties to ask my thoughts on polyamory.

People don’t stop to consider that I’m only different because of my willingness to share my dating stories, victories and defeats, like ribs at barbecue; we all pick at it until nothing’s left but the bones. And then I take those bones and make stock. Which then becomes soup. Or gravy. And in case you’ve lost track somewhere along the way, my life is like the ribs and my blog is like the barbecue and…who cares but the point of this oh so laborious metaphor is that I’m shameless with the details of my life. Not anymore of an expert than anyone else. Just shameless.

Why the preamble?

Well, I kind of have advice to share. And I want you all to listen. Or read. But I also want you to take it all with a grain of salt. After all, I’m probably not any smarter or wiser than any of you.

However, there is one thing I do know better than most: How to reject someone. I know this neither because I’m well versed in the art of letting someone down easy nor because I’ve been beating them off with a stick so long I know all the tricks of the trade. No, I know how to reject someone because I’ve been rejected. Often. And I know how horrible it can feel. And I think it goes without saying that if you have any dating experience at all you’ve dealt with rejection. Actually, the only thing that goes without saying is the saying “it goes without saying” but I just couldn’t avoid the cliché.

Anyway, next time you find yourself considering rejecting someone, please keep the following in mind:

KEEP IT SIMPLE: don’t offer me grandiose stories about having just come out of a relationship and needing a little “me” time right now. For many that just translates to you’re not attractive enough, or not tall enough or too bald or too fat or too….something. It’s always something. Something we are not or worse, something we are. And that sucks. A simple I’m not interested will do.

DON’T BE AFRAID TO LIE: I’m all for honesty. If there were such a thing as the patron saint of relationship/dating truth telling then I would be it. Men and women alike would wear jewellery carved in my image, churches would be adorned with my likeness and cheaters would have to say three Hail Marys and a Sam Sharpe to repent for their sins.

But sometimes the guy at the club is just too pushy and won’t take no for an answer. Sometimes the girl in accounting just can’t take a hint when you tell her that you’re booked until 2021. Sometimes you just have to say something like you’ve taken a vow of chastity.

Oh, and ladies, if a pushy stranger offers to buy you a drink, just politely decline. And don’t say you’re not thirsty, or you don’t feel like drinking (THEN WHY ARE. YOU. AT. THE. BAR????). Considering the context those aren’t effective lies. Feel free to say something like “I’ve had one drink already and I have to drive home” or “I’m a Lesbian” or “I have herpes” or “I haven’t fully completed my transition yet” to get the really pushy ones off your back.

THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD: I was at a dance one evening with friends when the DJ decided to play a slow-jam set. Not surprisingly some people paired up and the rest of us poor souls receded to the margins alone though united by our common sense of slow dance unworthiness. I spotted a young lady hovering near the edge of the dance floor. I decided I would ask her to dance.

I walked over, said something like “would you like to dance” and watched in horror as she looked me up and down, then wordlessly walked away. The whole thing lasted maybe five seconds but felt like an eon. It felt as if the whole world was laughing at me. They probably weren’t but all these years later it still smarts. I used to love slow jams. Now they make me twitchy. I’m probably still suffering from a low grade form of post traumatic stress syndrome brought on by my slow jam rejection. If I’m ever getting married, the first dance might have to be some up-tempo choreographed Michael Jackson-esque number. Either that or we’ll do the group/line dance thing. Like in Footloose. Anything to avoid a slow dance.

Anyway, the point is, have a little compassion. Rejecting someone is not the time to be working through your own emotional dramas and melodramas. No need to exact some form of psychic revenge on the pour soul who chats you up at the barbecue. No need to be rude. Try to remember how horrible rejection feels and try not to visit that feeling upon someone else.

I don’t know what was happening in that young lady’s life. I don’t know what kind of day she had. But all she had to do was say no thank you. She wouldn’t have been forced to dance with someone she deemed undesirable. And I would have still have my dignity.

In closing, allow me to share an anecdote. Years ago I was introduced to a woman at a party. It became clear very early that she was interested in moi. The feeling was not mutual. I had a choice to make. I could reject this woman in grandiose fashion. Or I could be polite. I chose the latter.

We ended up becoming friends, very good friends. Also turns out that she knows a lot of women, a lot of attractive women in fact. As it turns out, some of these very attractive women happened to find me attractive too. As fate would have it, a few of these women wanted to have sex with me.

It pays to be polite people. It pays to be polite.

Sam Sharpe is one of the luxuriously sexy writers over at MetAnotherFrog who I hope to one day cover in baby oil and take pictures of before doing all kinds of inappropriate things and is always enlightening with his sexual wisdom.  He is a real connoisseur of my sex drive of sexual knowledge and experience.  Drool.  He says things.  I listen.  Nuff said.  Pics.

How to Handle Rejection by Getting Rejected: a Not-a-Love-Story by the Urban Dater

Guest Post

 

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]’m a sucker for punishment, which is why I like it rough and tend to date women who take lots of steroids or participate in Mixed Martial Arts (or MMA to you educated and in-the-know types). If they kicks me in the beans, that’s cool; if they call me dirty names like pencil dick or Susan I’m also fine with that. The more demeaning the mo’ betta, in my opinion.

However, being a sucker for punishment comes at a cost, sometimes. Sometimes it’s hard to know when to give in and walk away. What I’m referring to is fighting the good fight to win a special someone over. Sometimes that special someone thinks you’re a good for nuthin’, nobody, ass-face. And that’s it. There’s very little one can do to turn the tide of that opinion. So what does one do, when handling rejection? Well, children of the corn, I’ll help you with that.

There was this gal I was in to. I found her on a dating site. We went out for a date, had a reasonably good time and when I drove her back to her car, I tried to kiss her only to find her cheek. The one on her face, unfortunately. I was let down obviously, but she replied “Hey, look, I had a lot of fun, let’s do this again.” I said that sounded like a good idea.  However, I was going to leave the ball in her court. If she really wanted to hang out with me, then she could make a move. And make a move she did.

We went out for dinner, just the two of us and then we met up with a couple of her friends for drinks afterward. I met one friend of hers that night, a very nice gal, who insisted that this girl I was going out with (let’s call her Wilma) was very much into me and that I had to keep on trying. That was interesting, I thought. As we pull up to Wilma’s apartment, I tried again for a kiss, what I got was a quick one-armed hug and she said “later man, I’ll call you this week.” Hmmmm. Thus far, I’m batting 0 for 2. No bueno.

It would take some time for me to try at romancing this girl again. Several months actually. During that time I dated other gals and what have you. It was one night out with Wilma and her bestie that I was again told “Dude, wtf? Why haven’t you made a move on Wilma? She REALLY likes you!!!” Well, that was news to me because that’s not the vibe I got. However, by this time, I was so wrapped up in this woman that I needed a definitive answer; I needed to know and I could no longer wait, otherwise, I was going to cut something off of my body and send it to her.

That day of reckoning came a week later. We went out for a drink and that’s when I “manned-up” and told the woman how I felt and that I needed to know where she was at… So let me give you the following options for what may have happened, and you choose which one you think it was:

  • She sat there silent for a few minutes and finished her pint of Guinness in two gulps
  • She grabbed my hand and said, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me that!”
  • She told me to fuck off and called me a loser dick faced platypus.

If you guessed the first option, you’d have been right. If you guessed that I’d rather she went with option three, that would also be correct.

I got a non-answer from her; and that, my friends, was that. I tried and I didn’t succeed. But I was satisfied with that because there would be no guessing that this girl liked me or not. She didn’t like me in that way. Period. But at least I tried. And you know what? I rarely thought about it, only recalling what happened in my stories of failure. Heh. That was about five years ago. Last, year, at a party, a good buddy of mine, who was close to that situation confided to me that Wilma told him something in confidence. What he revealed was that she liked me as a friend, but just didn’t like me “in that way.” By that time, it didn’t matter; but it was good to get something of an “official” reason.

Long story short: The best way to handle rejection, is to get rejected. Most never try and, thus, never get rejected.

Alex, over at the Urban Dater, is a man that lives in Southern California, and in the dreams of women everywhere if they know what’s good for them!  His use of inappropriate jokes and ridiculous innuendo have found in me a love I never thought I could bear, but bear it I shall.  Wait.  What?!  This bio is supposed to be about him, my bad.  Alex is rad.  I saw it in the dictionary.  Just try and prove me wrong.

Down in the Dating Trenches: Introducing a Month of Guest Posting

Stick Man

 

When it comes to dating, I tend to always think I’m right.

I have theories on why band-aids should be ripped.
I have theories about what certain behaviors mean.
I have theories about the importance (and reality) of physical attraction.
I have theories about how to be happy, single or otherwise.

However, I wasn’t born with these thoughts.  They’ve come to me over time.

during cringe worthy first dates
over text messages that never came
while trying to figure out the right way to say I’m not interested
before having sex
immediately after sex
through hours and hours of girl talk
built upon my own thoughts over a cup of coffee
in the dating trenches with my fellow comrades (and learning about the real rules of dating and relationships)

Dating and relationships are a collective art.  The things you learn and the theories you develop rarely come from sitting in a room alone and never having been exposed to anyone, ever.  And that’s why this month, I bring you, my beloved readers, a collection of How-To’s from numerous guest posters.  And rather than spoil the surprise now by revealing the topics, I’ll simply say, I learned some things, you’ll learn some things, and we all might just get a bit wiser.  Or at the very least have a laugh and/or need to take a cold shower.  Whatever.  We will play the cards as they lie.  And hopefully learn a thing or two.  And if you know me at all, you know I’m not one to keep my mouth shut so I’m sure I’ll have a thing or two to say along the way (and hopefully you will too…that is, after all, what the comments section is for).

Enjoy!

 

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Dirty Talk: Only If You Deliver

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t always starts innocently enough.  He asks how is your day going? and I think how tedious sweet.  But if we’re on plenty of fish or okcupid or twitter or facebook or maybe even via text, it usually ends the same, he wants to turn the chatter sexual; he wants the dirty talk.

And don’t get me wrong, I love the dirty talk.

There, I said it.  When it’s good, it’s amazing.  I love it whispered in my ear.  I love it showing up via text message.  I love it in my inbox (DM stands for dirty message, no?) but here’s the thing of the thing…if you’re not eventually going to put it in my box, I’d rather you just sort out the male yourself.

You see, the problem is I’m a writer.

Which, generally speaking, means nothing except that there are probably a lot of ramen noodles and tear filled nights in my future but when we’re talking about articulating anecdotes of arousal, sending soliloquies of seduction, teasing with testimonials of torrid temptations, I admit, I may have the upper hand.  And if we’re being real, that’s basically the only one I need.

Unless, of course, you plan to deliver.  I don’t want Delissio.

In which case, you know where to find me or at least plead your case.  You go ahead and bring it.  Show me your lumberjack lasciviousness, your burly backroom bellows; hit me with your famous filthy frenzy, your slickest unchaste urges, show me what you got and don’t be shy about it.

But if you’re just looking for some escapist excitement, some bored-on-a-monday mystery, some spank bank material, some spice-it-up-with-your-wife-later-flirtation, go ahead and get the fuck out of here.  Because you are wasting my time.  And that, in and of itself, makes you a shitty person (more on this another time).

If the words you’re spouting are not a preamble to the amorous activities of the future, to be honest, I’m not interested, because after all, I can make this shit up on my own and I would do a better job.  While I may be just a fantasy behind a pair of lips to you; to me, you’re just an ordinary guy.  Which, in and of itself, is perfectly fine.  I love to date guys.  Ordinary is cool, extraordinary is better.  But we’re talking about spending time coming up with saucy things to say to you with absolutely no payout?  Fuck that.  I’d rather write the story myself.

Because you see…

I’m fairly certain you have an amazing job.  Not like amazing in a monetary way, see I couldn’t care less about that.  But in some powerful sense.  Maybe you’re a President or a CEO.  Or maybe it’s more of a heroic thing, a Fireman or Policeman perhaps.  Or even better, perhaps you’re both powerful, incredibly intelligent and in my field, a Professor maybe, the head of a publishing company perhaps, an Editor.

And I have no doubt that you find me attractive, in fact you’ve told me over and over again.  There’s no need to reveal myself just because I’m worried you don’t really grasp the fact that I’m chubby, you get it and you think I’m amazing.  In fact, the attraction is so strong that we spend most of our time in some sort of tender tousle where you try to rip my clothes off and I try to keep you at bay, temporarily.

You see, we’ve got a thing going on.  It’s passionate.  It’s secret.  It’s unbelievably fun.

And on Wednesday night, I stop by your office building.  Everybody has gone home for the night but you’re busy working late.  I show up, half expecting to find you asleep on the couch in your office, but not my hard worker, you’re vigilant, you’re aggressive, there’s a reason you’re at the top of your field.

You look up from your desk, I stand in the door frame.  Your smile is not the smile of laughter, it is not a roller-coaster smile or a punchline smile.  Your smile is brisk, it’s sharp, it owns the room, it will take me down.

“Come in,” you say and I do, slowly, so you can get the whole view, but not before closing the door.  I am me, but not me.  By now you’ve walked over and are standing dangerously close.  I can feel the seconds beat against my ribs.

“What took you so long,” you ask as you slide your left hand inside my jacket and around my waist, but I know you’re not really asking.  This is just the chatter, the preamble, the small talk that takes place while you encircle me like a shark.  You smell like a man; all skin and cologne and testosterone.

You push me back against the wall, rough and aggressive, only not, because you use one hand to brace us and the other to hold me, always just one inch shy of any actual hurt.  You press your lips into mine, I press my hips into yours.  We are the opposite of a tug-o-war.

Your mouth is warm and wet and for a moment the power dynamic changes.  This is my obstacle course, I’m leading the way.  At first the kisses are so slow that you can barely stand it.  I spread your mouth open the smallest amount with my own, trace the bottom of your upper lip with the tip of my tongue, pull back for just a moment, gently bite my lower lip and then offer it up to you.  It slips inside your mouth, and you suck on it, soft.  And then harder.  The tension matches your arm as you reach around my waist and pull me closer.

And then your demeanor changes.  The room shifts.  The temperature changes.  Your breathing sounds like drums.  Your skin feels like fire.  You taste like promises and peaches.  You reach your hand down and maneuver your way under my dress, run your hand along the softness of my underwear, and then find your way inside…

And I could go on.  In fact, I will, in my head, when I write it how I want tonight.  And I might just change it for tomorrow.  Tonight it’s an editor who takes what he wants, throws me on the couch and exacts a debt I owe.  Tomorrow it’s a Fireman with whom I do unspeakable things.  Thursday, I could be pulling an under-the-desk-lewinsky while he has a meeting with someone, only the two of us aware.  A week from now it might be on a trip to Paris with a wealthy benefactor or a naive dishwasher.  But either way, it beats the hell out of so…uh…what are you wearing?

Unless, of course, you are an intelligent powerful man who finds me to be both amazing and beautiful….

 

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Dirty Talk: What Are You Wearing?


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[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he message reads:  What are you wearing?  And it’s your move.  The board is set.  The pieces are all lined up.  Now all you have to do is ask yourself, do you want to play?

I used to spend a great deal of time wondering what boys wanted to hear in response to this.  I mean, did they really want to know what I was wearing in a literal sense?  Or was this their way of sussing out whether or not I was down for a bootycall?  Or were they just being misguidedly playful?

I don’t wonder anymore.  In all honesty, it doesn’t matter what they want to hear in response.  It recently occurred to me that I had been asking the wrong questions.  The only question that really matters, is how I want to respond.

There are two reasons a guy would send you this text.  Only two.  And you can try all the explaining and excuses or bullshit responses but the truth is, I’m right.  On this one thing.  Every guy ever, was asking, is asking, for one of these two reasons:

 

1.  He’s throwing bird seed.


2.  He wants to fuck you.

If he’s throwing bird seed, RUN!  This dude does not care about you, and I’m not even talking about in a swooning-girlfriendy-kind of way.  This dude doesn’t give a shit about your time, your feelings, your happiness.  To be honest, he doesn’t even care about you as a human being, you are a means to an end and dammit, You’re better than that and stop being so pathetic and rewarding this type of shitty behavior from human beings!!!

If he wants to fuck you, then you’ve got a decision to make.  Actually you’ll have several.  The first of which is whether or not you want to.  Now here’s where this may get tricky for some.  Fucking and caring are not mutually exclusive.  For all I know, it’s your sweetheart of a boyfriend being cheeky or cute or sexy when he sends you this text.  And that’s great.  Hopefully you want to answer it with something sexy (and we’ll get to that in a bit), because he is your boyfriend and all so I would hope you want to bang his brains out.

But what about if it’s just someone you’ve been dating?  Or what if it’s a bootycall you’ve had for years?  Or a potential one night stand with someone from the internet?  Or a guy from church?  Or any of the other million possibilities that may have not occurred to me?

What then?

This is the part I can’t really help you with, except to suggest some questions you might want to ask yourself to help you think through your decision.  Because after all, this is your decision.


So when he texts what are you wearing? ask yourself these questions:

Do you want to have sex with him?
If you’re not ready to have sex with him will you have the self-control to stop things if they progress too far (and are you prepared to tell him ahead of time what your limits are)?
Are you prepared for the after-sex level of commitment (or more likely lack thereof) that he is offering?
Have you correctly ascertained that he falls into this and not the bird seed category?
Do you properly understand that sex and emotion are not mutually inclusive?
Will you be okay if the “relationship” never progresses past a sexual experience?

If you can honestly answer yes to these questions then I would guess you’re ready to answer his text.

And by the way, if your answer is yes…that’s awesome.  Good for you!  Get yours!  Have fun!  Be safe!  And feel free to come back and tell me everything!!  But if your answer is no, hey that’s okay.  We all come in different emotional packages and we want different things out of life and that’s just all well and good.  The most important thing is that you know yourself, make smart decisions for yourself, and to be completely honest, keep your judgment of others to a minimum (that goes for both the yesers and noers).

So how do you respond to his question what are you wearing?


First and foremost, think sexy.

But what if you’re not (looking sexy at the moment)?  Sure, okay, so maybe you’re like me and busy studying in your jogging pants, sports bra and sweatshirt.  Here is the time for the white lie.  How far you stretch the truth is your call and it will have a lot to do with what you (and he) are into.  So you say,

I’m wearing red lace panties with a matching red bra…
I’m wearing that little black dress you like…
Absolutely nothing…you should get over here to keep me warm…
Nothing but high heels and a smile…
Whip cream and caramel sauce…have you had dessert yet?

But if you’re like me and hate lying in any form?  Well, at that point there are two options really.  The first is to make the white lie real.  Go put on that black dress.  Go make a sexy sundae.  Your call.  The only downside to this scenario is that puts you in a situation of already putting in a lot of effort when for all you know he was just checking in and actually wanted to hang out 2 days from now (though depending on the situation you two have, this might be a sign he’s a bird seed thrower – take note).

The second option takes less effort (and is possibly less sexy but I’d argue if he really wanted you, he mostly just wants to know that you’re up for it and it doesn’t actually matter what you’re wearing).  Simply make what you’re working with more sexy.  So you’re wearing a sports bar and a sweatshirt???  Set those ladies free and tell him that underneath your sweatshirt is nothing but warm bare skin.  You get the idea.

All that being said, try to remember that this is likely a dude you’re just going to have a sexual fling with and a white lie isn’t the worst thing in the world but that putting in effort for a man who isn’t putting in any real effort for you will only wind you up in the disappointment bin.  Keep it light, keep it happy, keep it sexy, keep it breezy.

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Conversations in Dating: How to Talk to Someone Like a Normal Human Being

How to have a conversation

A conversation.

It seems so simply, so easy, so… totally and completely fucking unattainable?

And the irony is that I’m actually not asking for the world.  Your questions don’t have to be of Pulitzer Prize winning caliber.  They don’t have to be inventive or intuitive.  They don’t need to be exciting or exculpatory.  They just need to be present.  Occurring.  Is this really happening?  Yes, we are on a date and asking each other questions.

The truth is childhood prepared me for dating, and I don’t really understand how there are so many boys who missed the test prep of their youths.  You see, when all else fails, when you’re nervous and shy, when your mind goes blank and it takes all your strength not to simply bolt for the door…the shadow game will save you.

I ask so where did you grow up?

You tell me.

Silence ensues.  This, is your cue.  It’s so simple.  Why are you making it so difficult?

You say where did you grow up?

Sigh of relief.  And now I get to talk and fill the silence with the first chapter of my story, I was born in…

And when I’m done talking I’ll wait for a moment.  Just in case there was something you wanted to interject with.  Maybe you’ve become less shy.  Maybe some exciting thought leapt to the front of your mind while I was all a-babble.  But if not, that’s cool.  I’ll ask another, admittedly borderline tedious, question but the point is we’re just getting used to each other, it’s not yet time to find out about the traumatic experience you had when you were 15, tedious will suffice for the moment.

I ask so, do you like camping, and what are your thoughts on the sport of mini-golf?

You respond.

Silence ensues.  Again, this is your cue.  Come up with something new or simply play the shadow game.  Repeat back what I asked.  Ask me what I’ve just asked you.  It doesn’t even require any real thought.  Just say the words.  Why can’t you do this?  Why don’t you know how this works?  WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?!

You ask so, what about you, do you like camping, and what are your thoughts on the sport of mini-golf?

And that’s how it works.  A functioning conversation.  The flow of a first date.  Things that are endlessly easy for $200, Alex.  And yet…and yet…I keep going on these dates or having these online dating message and/or texting conversations that are more work than pulling taffy in the winter.

So what is it?  Am I unworthy of conversation in the eyes of these boys?  Are men (correction: the men who like me) incapable of even the smallest modicum of intelligence and/or common sense?  Are these dudes stretched so thin with their expansive pursuit of women that asking a few questions falls under the “too much effort” category?  Have the boys lost all their sense of curiosity?

And before anyone responds with something like “they don’t care about you, they just want to know what’s in your pants.”  While admittedly boring and telling about the human race, even that curiosity should be enough to get the conversational ball rolling because common sense tells you…woo the girl…get the goods.  It’s really a pretty simple concept.  If you want to fuck me, ask a fucking question.

So what is it, men?  Where have all the conversations gone?

 

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Online Dating Site Review: PlentyofFish.com

Plenty of Fish Logo

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Plenty of Fish  

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Attractiveness of Guys

There are tons of physically attractive guys on this website.  However, just as with life, there are also lots of not so attractive fellas but this website, especially in relation to others, is heavy with the hotties (heavy both in quantity and quality)

Attention from Fellas

On average (its higher when I’m online more often and lower when I’m on less, so clearly exposure helps) I get about 2-5 messages a day.  That being said, there are days when I get 10-20 and others where 3 days go by with nada.  Generally 3 out of those daily 5 get deleted right away, 1 out of the remaining 2 usually turns out to be a moron (sometimes 2 out of 2) but I have messaged with several fellas who have made it past this initial stage.

Quality of Responders

While I have gone on several dates from Plenty of Fish (in fact, I think most of my dates have been from POF), so many of those dates have been either ridiculous or with guys who only wanted sex (not that there is anything wrong with that).  Additionally, I’m not actually even opposed to sex-based relationships, the problem is that most of these guys should not be allowed to have sex–that is how bad they suck at life.  Additionally, so much of my time is wasted sifting to the idiocy of POF messages, not to mention trying to keep a relatively normal blood pressure given the rage I feel at having to deal with said stupidity.  Needless to say that there is not a whole lot of super witty intelligent conversation happening and definitely not a whole lot of interest spurred.  In POF`s defense, I think I put up with more ridiculousness for a few reasons and that in and of itself makes me a part of the problem (after all, who is rewarding the stupid behavior but the girls who then still meet them for coffee, amirite.  In my defense, here are the reasons:

  1. I have very little patience and thus often take less than I deserve because I’m not ready to “wait it out”
  2. Because I’m looking for fun and dating not long term relationship I don’t judge it as harshly as some would
  3. I am trying to be more open and less judgemental

Coolness of Site

Nothing particularly unique about this site.  You can’t search for guys that are interested in a specific (chubby) body type, there’s no fun neat stuff, basically the only saving grace is that its free (which is probably also it’s greatest downfall as it allows guys to be total losers with no real consequences).

Overall Satisfaction

Unfortunately, it really is a “best of the worst” type of situation.  Though, just like someone driving a jalopy, the second I get a better option, I’ll be dropping this beast in a heartbeat.  So no, Plenty of Fish, you and I are not soul mates — you’re the booty call I’m answering until someone better takes your place.  And that’s the truth.

Saving The World, One Valentine’s Day at a Time

Hearts
[dropcap]I LOVE BEING SINGLE.[/dropcap]
No, seriously.  I really love being single.  And not in that knee-jerk-look-at-me-I’m-so-Carrie-Bradshaw type way.  And not in that I’m-so-broken-that-I-hate-men-and-relationships type way.  And not even in that he’s-just-around-the-corner-and-I’ll-hold-my-romantic-breath-until-he-gets-here type way.  But in a real, honest, I’m enough, for this very moment type way.

I’m not sure if it’s an inherent thing.  Or a way my parents raised me thing.  Or a logical because I know life takes work thing.  But somewhere along the way I figured out, you have to be enough.

“You have to be enough.  By yourself.  Just You.  Enough.  Whole.  The rest has to just be icing.  Amazing beautiful delicious icing But just icing.”

Because here’s the thing of the thing.  Nothing is guaranteed in life except that the only person who will be with you forever, has to be with you forever, will never leave your side, not for anything…is You.  As gloomy as it is to think, marriages fail, people leave, people die, and feelings fluctuate.  And I’m not saying you should spend your life alone, a hermit in a cabin, putting up walls long before anyone ever thinks of climbing them.  But if you want to have a good life, the best life, how can you neglect the one person who has the biggest starring role?

Now I’m not saying it can happen overnight and in fact, I’m a huge proponent of the fake it till you make it attitude, but you have to start somewhere.  And there are a hundred somewhere’s to start.  

 

There’s list making and goal plotting:

You could make a list of things you love about your life.  Though, don’t make the list you think everybody else has.  Because while I adore my bed, roomy and solo.  That might not be your thing.  You might just be the world’s biggest cuddle monkey and pretending doesn’t help anyone.

 

And then there’s physical strength and personal growth:

You could hit the gym to get that svelte physique and seek out a therapist to talk out your issues and get to work on that CBT (cognitive-behavioral therapy, aka change your behavior change your emotions).

 

And don’t forget finding your passions and seeking out hobbies:

Maybe you develop a love of knitting, or maybe you realize that oblivious to you all these years is a hidden talent for the back-hand badminton serve and before you know it you’ve joined a club and won a few hundred trophies.

 

 

But to be completely honest.  There is an easy two step method that supersede’s all these options.  The first is to simply accept who you are.

“Be exactly who you are, in the moment that you are it.  And in that moment, realize that you are enough.  Whole.  Complete.  Just you.  Enough.”

And the second is to change the world.  Because here’s the thing of the thing.  It’s not all about you.  I know I know, you didn’t get a box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day but guess what…the world is overpopulated.  I know I know, you’re filled with rage because Hallmark thought to capitalize and commercialize this holiday which is supposed to be about love but guess what…there are actual wars going on right now, real wars, with guns and violence and people dying.  There are big wars, little wars, oil wars, civil wars, wars of tyranny, wars on ideas, wars on women’s rights.  Pick a cause and do something.  Or at the very least learn something.

And I guarantee you’ll start to realize that the fact that you’re embarrassed to buy your own chocolate on Valentine’s Day seems pretty stupid when you consider how monumentally lucky you are to be able to get to a store that sells chocolate without fear of violence or danger and then that you indeed have money to buy yourself some chocolates.  In fact, maybe go ahead and get a box for someone else.  Your mom, a stranger, whoever.  Because #ThisJustIn the world isn’t all about you.  That being said, this diatribe isn’t about shaming you.  It’s about getting you to stand up.

So you’re sad?  Or feeling alone?  So is someone else.  There is someone else out there, feeling just like you.  Someone else in the world is feeling sad, and alone, and that’s scary.  So band together.  Find a charity.  Find a cause.  Donate your time.  Donate your money.  Donate your ideas.  Whatever you have to give, it has value.  You have value.  And I’m telling you, I promise, even if you can’t see it, somewhere within you is a person who is enough, inherently.  And it’s about time you let them shine.  Today.  Tomorrow.  Because the time you have to shine is limited, so you better make the best of it.  So go head and save the world, One Valentine’s Day at a Time.

 

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

He Sucks, She Sucks, We All Suck Vancouver

Dating

 

[dropcap]The truth is[/dropcap] I hadn’t planned to write anything.  I was busy with school and papers and grad school apps etc.  But there came a point when I just couldn’t bite my tongue anymore and the things that were being said…well…just seemed…so…totally and completely off the fucking mark.  And with that, here is my “response” to the 2 articles stirring up a dating storm in Vancouver (though you don’t have to read them to understand my post, I don’t think…): Do Vancouver Men Suck & Do Vancouver Women Suck, A Reader’s Response

 

Dear Vancouver,

I hear it all the time.  I experience it myself.  Dating in Vancouver sucks.  And according to this article, we might just be able to get away with blaming the men.  And to be honest, I completely agree, men in Vancouver absolutely suck.  But then again so do the women.  See that’s the thing about being dicks.  Just because you’re one doesn’t mean I’m not one too.  And the same goes for the gender issue brought up in this article.  Just because men here suck at dating, and possibly life, doesn’t mean women don’t too.  And while I know I’ve just thrown a truckload of double negatives your way, I want to make something perfectly clear.  I agree with the article.  I disagree with the article.  I think it said some things worth saying.  I think it missed the mark completely.  So ya know.  Crystal clear right?

The problem with dating in Vancouver is actually pretty simple.  Well, at least knowing what the problem is, is simple, everything else like how it got this way and how to change it…well those are up for grabs.  But here it is, this is what I know about dating in Vancouver:

1.  Vancouver Men are Pansies
2.  Vancouver Women are Bitches
3.  Everybody is still fucking
4.  We’ve become the “American School System of Dating”

Just so we’re clear.  I don’t have all the answers.  But I do know that dudes here are pansies.  Full stop.  And I know it’s politically incorrect.  And I know reverse-gender oppression and all that.  But the truth is, if I wanted to date someone more feminine than me, I’d pick a chick…they’re much prettier and smell nicer.  I want a man.  I want a man who can grow a full beard.  I want a man who’s balls are too big to wear skinny jeans.  I want a dude who knows how to make a decision, was smart enough to do something with his life, has a plan and takes some action.  Truth is I want more than this, but this will suffice for the moment.

 

1.  Vancouver Men are Pansies.
Men in Vancouver are shy.  And quiet.  The only time I ever see any aggression is in the most negative of ways, bar fights, street fights, etc.  Ironically the exact things that are working against getting them laid, which is what all that fighting is about isn’t it…sexual frustration?  And while you can try to claim that men are like this in every city I assure you, it’s simply not true.  And I’m not a ten, so you can’t blame it on that either.  I can go anywhere in the States, and boys are talking to me.  Spain and they’re hollering down the street.  When I was in Paris, I had a Chef (in his full Chef get-up) leave his restaurant and come across the street into the launder-mat I was using and chat me up…and he didn’t even have any laundry!  The list goes on.  But in Vancouver, it’s few and far between.  And most of the time I’m not even certain they’re chatting me up.

And that’s out in public.  People claim the internet is so different and online dating is so easy and guys will say anything.  This is true.  To some extent.  While I won’t get into the idiocy that are the messages of Vancouver men (that’s…uh…basically the rest of this blog)…I will say that this lack-of-assertiveness translates onto the net as well.  While here in Vancouver I get anywhere between 0-5 messages a day, and at least 80% of those are bullshit like hot tiiiiiiiiiiits and messages that make you think you’re Drowning in a Sea of Idiocy, this isn’t the case in every city.  And how do I know??  Because I’m a woman who appreciates a little Science and Dating and who doesn’t love a good experiment.

So, one day I changed my dating profile, just for the day, to say Boston (since, after all I am considering grad school there, might as well see what’s up with the dating).  And within that one single day I had over 50 messages, at least 75% of which were eloquent and interesting.  Now it’s not perfect science, perhaps Vancouver is small and we have to factor in that I was a “new” profile in Boston and not in Van but still, that’s a pretty huge increase.  We simply can’t ignore it. [Update: the messages are just as fucking stupid in Montreal (see my SSDated instagram for proof), so clearly I just need to move to Boston *half joking*]

So to sum up.  Vancouver men are more feminine than men in other cities and I have no idea why.  Vancouver men are shy and less likely to approach a woman, in public or online, and I have a partial idea why.  And that’s how we get to point number two.  Vancouver women are bitches.

 

2. Vancouver Women are Bitches.
Now ladies, before you start freaking out on me…I love you.  To me??  Oh well, to me you’re fucking lovely, amazing, sweethearts, princesses, best ever, love ya…but to guys…well…um…it can get a little rough.  You see the thing is, the whole dating in Vancouver situation is a bit of a snowball.  Because here we are moaning about how guys don’t approach us or talk to us, but when they do, we suddenly become the Simon Cowells of dating…critical bitches, yo.  He’s gay.  He’s too feminine.  Ugh, hipster.  He’s weird.  He’s creepy.  He’s too short.  and the list goes on.  And while I also, don’t really want to date a short feminine hipster who’s a little bit weird or creepy and may or may not be gay…it might be a good idea if I don’t treat him like shit because

a. he’s human
b. he might be a fucking genius (which aside from the gay possibility, could really negate all that other stuff for me) (see #4 coming up) and
c. who knows if he ends up being the most amazing person you’ve ever known and the whole hipster thing is just a phase.
d.  or maybe turns out you love hipsters
e.  or maybe or maybe or maybe…have a fucking imagination…and imagine the possibilities

Plus, in the interest of sisterhood, shouldn’t we all be particularly kind and pleasant to any fellow interested in talking to us, if only to help propagate a species of males who regularly approach chicks in Van?  THINK OF YOUR SISTERS!!


That being said, I take you back to the point above where I mentioned that half the time a boy is chatting me up, it’s so timid and feeble I assume he just wants us to be besties.  And I’m almost certain during the conversation he hasn’t once considered all the dirty things I might be able to do with my mouth (Sidenote:  To be clear he should never SAY any of the dirty things he thinking till at least some of them have been put into action, I mean Social Protocol, yo, but still…he should be thinking them…if he wants me, I mean).

That being said, girls in Vancouver are fickle bitches.  I can’t tell you how many times girls complain about how dudes dress.  But here’s the thing ladies…you can’t ask for a man in a suit and be disappointed when he’s metrosexual.  And you can’t ask for a dude that puts effort into his outfit and then be disappointed when he shows up in skinny jeans and $200 high tops…which you can be damn sure he put some thought into.  So the next time you want to complain about how a guy dresses, just remember that you’re actually asking him to tuck his little purse of man coins (cajones, nuts, love lockets, berries, wedding tackle, etc.) just a little bit further away from you and hey if you’re cool with that then cool.  It’s not my business.  But don’t come crying to me while I love a man with a full beard and a baseball cap (and pants large enough to let his man marbles breathe) ready to talk science and fuck me senseless…uh…er…something like that.  Basically ladies…stop asking for a Pretty Prince when you want a King.  Because you can’t have both.  And the next time some dude says what’s up…give him a shot.  I’m not saying you need to sell your soul or makeout with him in public.    But give the dude a go.  You never know when it turns out he has a PhD. in something other than his pants (though that’s fun too).

 

3.  Everyone is Still Fucking.
Vancouver is a city you can get laid in.  No doubt.  100%.  No question.  Maybe it’s because we’re liberal.  Maybe it’s because the clubs here suck and what else are you going to do but grind up on someone else.  Maybe it’s because we’re all just so fucking happy to be so close to the mountains, the ocean, and amazing sushi that we’re willing to throw caution (and our panties) to the wind and get down.  And to be clear…this is a judgement free zone…get down with your bad self.  But here’s the one drawback I’ve seen so far.

Why would men want to bother to step their game up?  Why would it even occur to them to be smarter, more interesting, kiss better, or any of the other things we want from them??  THEY’RE STILL GETTING LAID!!!!  And while I’m currently doing my best to limit this phenomenon (which is quite the sacrifice for someone who rallies around the term SLUTmazing)…I can’t do it alone ladies.  I’m just one woman!

 

4.  Vancouver is the American School System of Dating.
People typically think of Hollywood as a town of beauty-obsessed starlets and airheads, so perhaps I shouldn’t feel so shocked that Vancouver, the Hollywood of the North, has become full of the same.  I almost don’t know how to describe it.  I was to yell at this city, like a frustrated parent screams at their 21 year old who just keeps fucking up…over and over again and all you can do is explode with YOU BETTER GET YOUR PRIORITIES STRAIGHT KIDDO!!!  Because that’s really where the problem lies.  The bigger, more important problem.  It lies in a set of fucked up priorities.  In a city where the dating complaints sound a bit like something George Bush might say.  We have become the American Education System of Dating.

The first article described three young women:

they’re attractive, smartly put together, and fit. They hike the Chief, do the Grouse Grind, ski, bike the seawall, and kayak

And then that’s it.  That’s the end of the description.  I mean, seriously?!  Take a moment.  And let’s think about what’s missing from this list of what I can only assume is supposed to be a description of what makes these women dateable, desirable, worthy, etc. in our fair city.  So, let’s see…they’re attractive and fit.  So that’s good.  And they’re smart…oh no wait…they’re smartly put together…ok…so I guess that’s cool, they have some fashion sense.  And…then we’re back to descriptions of their athletic pursuits.  Super.  And to be honest, this is Vancouver.  A city where being fit and fashionable are your best assets.  I weep for humanity.

But seriously?!  Would you date these girls?  I mean hot bodies and financials aside, what do these chicks have to offer?  And while you could make the argument that for the sake of brevity, details about personality were left out…but in an article that runs for five pages (no judgement, people in glass houses, I’m just saying)…that argument kind of falls flat.

And so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the article focuses greatly on appearances.  Which are valid mind you, attraction is attraction.  Pretending it’s irrelevant isn’t helping anyone.  But if the women of Vancouver were really able to give that hypothetical Genie lamp a rub…is a dude who dresses up for his lady really what we’d ask for???

How about a man who can hold a conversation, who understands the ebb and flow of asking questions and offering things that can be responded to, who has SOMETHING TO SAY!  How about we aim for the stars and ask for intelligent men who have thoughts about science or math, or the history of art, or how a font curves in a way that makes his heart pound, or can tell a joke that is actually funny and not in that stupid I just said something super dumb but I’m going to attempt to cover it up by calling it a joke way that just makes you want to tear your hair out.  What happened to wanting real things that matter??  Who cares if he is wearing a sharp blazer if the man can’t manage to follow an argument from thesis to proof to proof to proof to conclusion.  When did we get so fucking tedious!!

And ladies, you’re not excused either.  Because there are really only three complaints I ever hear from guys.  Stupid, Crazy, Snobs (the nicer way to say Bitches).  And while crazy I have some thoughts on (that’s another article entirely)…they’re often right about the other two.

So this is to everybody (me included, improvement is always possible and required).  Step your game up.  Read a book.  Be more than anyone ever expected you could be.  Say something.  Do something.  Change the world.  Be interesting.  Make a point.  Make a mark.  Hold your head high and be proud of what you’re doing with your life.

And for fuck sakes…ladies…be nicer to the next guy that chats you up…(but if he’s a loser don’t sleep with him…it’s as bad as faking orgasms and you need to start thinking of your fellow woman).  And guys…man the fuck up…put some of that natural testosterone to good use and chat a lady up.  And be clear about it.  Because the only thing worse than being rejected??  Is being rejected by a girl who probably would’ve liked you if only she’d known that weren’t trying to be her new bestie.

Finally, while I applaud @AmigoJor for getting out there and doing his thing.  I have to toss out a few words of advice for the boys because I almost think everything he said was misguided.

1.  Don’t talk to chicks on the bus if it’s anytime before noon.  She’s busy.  She’s trying to get to work on time.  She can’t be bothered with you because her boss wants the blah blah on his desk by noon plus she’s not really a morning person and dammit can’t I just enjoy this latte in peace.  Plus daytime isn’t sexy, yo.  Save that shit for afternoon to evening.

2.  Beaches?  Park?  Sure…those are awesome for July and August…but uh…this is Vancouver.

3.  Yaletown.  I can either buy into the stereotypes…in which case she’s got the nervous jittery look because her body is still trying to recover from all the coke she did last night not because she’s anti-social.  If we want to go the PC route…don’t assume…if you boys want us ladies to see you in your skinny jeans and not think gay! you’re going to have to knock the Snobby girls are from… shit off.  It goes both ways.

4.  Coffee Shops…home run.  What can I say…he’s right (though I see it in a slightly less cynical way).  And I almost kind of hope that one day I might run into this fella in a coffee-shop…and he’ll say something kind and interesting and we’ll have banter.  He’ll ask for my number and I’ll give it.  And perhaps he never calls.  And perhaps I don’t really want him to.  But we’ll both go home and start a snowball effect.  We’ll tell our friends about the time we met a person who was kind and funny and sort of maybe amazing (or at least not creepy and weird/ bitchy and distant) and how he acted like a man and I was a perfect lady.  And it will encourage our friends to do the same.  And they’ll tell their friends and so on and so forth.  All because one day a couple different people wrote articles and then some other people put it into action.  Or ya know.  Something like that.

But one final word of advice…gentlemen…don’t ever say something like this “Ahh, lovely sunrise with those heavy clouds in the distance, eh?” (from article)…because while you think she responds with “yahh” out of disinterest, there’s another much more likely reason.  There is no good response to this.  Or at least not one that someone who’s just be taken aback by someone new talking to her on a bus can come up with in a timely manner.  This is a question for an art gallery or a third date.  When your chatting a new chick up on the bus, on the street, at a pub, you have to make sure she can respond without feeling like an idiot.  This is not the time to quiz her knowledge of 18th century philosophy.  Just relax.  And ask her something normal.  Like how is your night going?  


So good luck out there my lovelies.  Because don’t mistake my harsh no-bullshit approach for anything other than a love for this city and her people.  I love Vancouver.  And I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t care.  I just want you to knock off this teenager-apathetic-I-don’t-need-to-be-amazing-nonsense and get started.  It’s never too late.  Nothing is permanent.  The world is waiting with baited breath.  Now go out and date like I know you can.


Yours Truly,

Something She Dated
aka That girl at Starbucks two seats over
aka Your favorite chat up chick
aka Miss Social Protocol 2012
aka Your dating fairy godmother
aka Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time