by Laurelin

Dating. I think we all know by now that I suck at it. I’m a tough girl to win over, and the odds of me scaring someone off by date three are pretty damn good despite the initial attraction. I’m going to be honest, I have been sampling what Boston has to offer lately and am having a damn good time with it -- it’s summertime, what do you want from me? I’ve realized that keeping an open mind when it comes to guys has meant I have met a lot of cool people who I normally wouldn’t have gone for… I have also met a lot of idiots.

Guys, good lord, I know sometimes girls turn out to be a bit bonkers; especially girls like me who habitually come home a little drunk around 4 AM with a rip in their jeans and a half eaten cheeseburger in their purse. But I figure I may as well tell it like it is; it doesn’t matter how hot you are, it is totally possible to lose even the most captivated girl in ten minutes. Listen up guys. Help me help you, take heed of these simple rules, and then maybe we can all go get a margarita.



1. Watch your language. Don’t use the n-word on our first date -- or ever for crying out loud! I don’t care how hot you are, how big your muscles are, or how lucky I thought I was to be with literally the hottest guy I have ever seen in my whole life -- the second you start telling me a story and dropping racist terminology, I am gone. It’s a damn shame and a colossal waste of my time. Men, lock up those lips and grow a brain. Ignorance doesn’t look good on anyone.

2. When we go out, God help you if you don’t know how to tip. I honestly don’t remember the last time I dated someone who wasn’t a bartender, waiter, barback or bouncer (that’s a problem in and of itself), but it’s happened to a few friends of mine. I would rather not have to duck back in and leave another twenty on the table because you’re trying to save a few bucks. I’m staying home next time, and you’re a jerk.

3. There comes a time when it’s time to put out. Trust me, no one is coming back to my apartment right away, but I don’t want to be surprised a few months in and find that you have a mangina. Nothing good can come from that. It either ends in us still talking while I see other people, us becoming buddies, or me purposely dropping my cell phone in the toilet and forgetting you exist. I also don’t want to hear about your ex-girlfriends, talk about your feelings, how many kids you want and what you want to name them, or other mangina-y things. Grow. A. Pair.

4. If we wind up doing it, we are probably/maybe dating and we really/moderately like one another. On a few rare occasions maybe I’m just trying to get over someone, or maybe I didn’t want you to drive home drunk and let you stay over and I took my Ambien too soon. But either way, the first time having sex with someone is always a big deal. I’m not a prude by any means, but sweet baby Jesus, I swear I will never talk to you again if you refer to me as “Mama” or refer to yourself as “Daddy.” And the baby talk… I have never been more freaked out in my life. No, I don’t “likey.” I was “likey-ing” until you started talking like a three year old. Game. Over.

5. If you pee on my stuff after drinking, you are a tool. We have all been there, drunk as a skunk and in some strange bed. However. Why am I waking up to you peeing on my futon, my desktop computer, or my bookshelf? Is this what I have to look forward to the next time you come over? I watched a guy pee in his room once and actually felt terrible so I cleaned it up and put him back to bed. The next morning I was trying to break the news gently and not embarrass him and he actually said, “Are you sure you. didn’t pee?” Good luck buddy. I’m out, you’re gross. I know this goes hand in hand with the type of men I keep going after… maybe I should start assessing how many people have actually peed in my room before I date another bartender.

I hate to be that girl and point out that the first thing I noticed about a guy is his appearance. I don’t however, make a snap judgment and decide if I like you then and there. Sometimes a sense of humor and a nice smile can overpower things like being shorter than me, bad haircuts, funny dancing, fist pumping (okay, not fist pumping, sorry) and silly T-shirt wearing. These things are not deal breakers. If you make me laugh I don’t mind bending over to kiss you, and I might laugh telling my friends about your silly T, but hey, I’m telling my friends about you.

I might not be in the mood for a relationship just now, even in my sea of badly shorn and stupidly attired bar scene men. But at least I have a few hands to squeeze and options to savor while watching the Bruins game. As for all the rest, I really did drop my cell phone in the toilet. And I’m not getting another one, ever. Please don’t ever call me again, you racist baby talking bed wetters.

Thank you.
Love, Laurelin