Fellas, Please.
Posted on Friday, July 31st, 2009 at 12:02 pm
photo credit: Rev. Xanatos Satanicos Bombasticos (ClintJCL)
In my last post, I posited that one particular a-hole deserves to be unemployed.
Well, let’s take that one particular a-hole and multiply him by oh, let’s say, 3 million. Nearly three million single men in New York between the ages of 35 and 54. (Not that I’d date the upwards range on that, but whatever, it’s an average, and you can estimate the twentysomethings for yourself.)
Now, it’s not that these guys are bad, outright. They could be very, very good, I think. They have potential.
But they don’t even try. And, come on. We all know that effort goes a long way. And guess what happens if you don’t try? In this economy, you get fired. Laid-OFF. (Not laid.)
Single, heterosexual guys, let me tell you something. It’s very simple. Girls like to be made to feel like they’re more than just a collection of physical attributes. Important. Special, even.
It’s actually quite easy to do that. Take them to dinner. If you don’t like dinner, take them for a drink. If you don’t drink, there’s coffee, or tea, or lemonade. A walk in the park. Chinese checkers. Whatever. (You do this right, chances are, you can feel their boobs later.)
Call them beforehand and actually plan it. Hey, I love a text. It’s easy, impersonal, you don’t have to get too involved. That’s why you shouldn’t do it.
Once you plan this night, confirm it early in the day. Don’t get called away by “a client.”
If you do get called away by a client, apologize and plan another night. Don’t text to say “let’s meet up later” or “how late is too late?”—particularly if this is the first time you are hanging out, save some drunken night in the Hamptons or Rio. (Oh, and just ’cause she acted one way then does not mean you are absolved from a proper date in your hometown. Vacation is a totally different story.)
If she’s still texting you back after all that, don’t just go home after your “client meeting” and expect her to come over. A booty call does not give that special feeling to a lady. (“Man” is the first half of “manners,” need I remind you?)
It’s not like we need that much. New York women are trained not to expect much of anything from men, sadly. In fact, I think we’ve largely become enablers. That is not good.
Being 33 and all, I’m done with it. I’m not going to run over to some jerk’s apartment just because he asks me to. I’d like to actually have a conversation first (and this may be particular to YUD, she likes words).
But I feel pretty fair saying that the majority of women would like to be treated like people, maybe even interesting, attractive people—not just dry-humped in the windowless fake bedroom of a Murray Hill apartment share.
One of my friends wrote this to me a while back, about Barack taking Michelle on a date night (and guys—those two are already married! Imagine what’s expected of you when you’re just dating!):
It’s the most basic of New York City dates: a good dinner and an evening at the theatre. Problem is, for all the dates I’ve been on, I’ve yet to have that experience. It seems that the men in this city are too cheap, too busy, too shy, too self-consumed, too many things to be bothered with making the effort to make a reservation and book a show. They seem to be taking the illustrious former Senator Rick Santorum’s advice to Obama: Take your girl down to a bar and buy her a shot!
Jeez, at least buy me a shot. And stop texting me about the size of your junk. It’s gross.
Hilarious. Who do these guys think they are?! They think they’re hot shit when they’re really just cold diarrhea.
[...] last post gave me certain qualms. Primarily because I know that my dad (obviously) reads this site, as do [...]
Obviously a flat headed tiger shows his true stripes when back in his den. Too bad, we sorta thought he had potential!
ah, potential!
I just found your blog through The 405 – as a fellow unemployed, single, 33 year old blogger … I can relate (way too much!) to this post!
[...] “What is it that scares you, really?” I asked. “You know I don’t name names.” (And I never purposely skewer anyone, unless they really, really deserve skewering and are some kind of public figure, like a certain publisher, or a racist cop.) Or they do something so stupid it has to be brought forward, for the good of society. I mean, that’s just public service. [...]
Pfff I cook dinner for girls and take them out to restaurants and get tickets to parties in bath-houses or get them into concerts at the Guggenheim and do everything I can to just make them feel special but it just ends up that “oh he is such a great guy.” Just as guys don’t often enough do things to really flatter and spoil a girl, I think girls don’t often enough appreciate that a guy is trying to spoil them. Or at least in my case, I spoil them and then don’t send them texts about the size of my junk so they just assume I am not trying to get in their pants ever.
Hey Kendall,
First of all, the fact that you are commenting, and with a certain (delightful) attitude, makes me like you. So I want to help (also, are you hot?). I guess the first thing I would ask is… are you picking the right girls? Because just cause you do all the right things doesn’t mean they’ll appreciate, you know… you have to go for the RIGHT ones. But beyond that, it’s not all about being a gentleman or “spoiling.” If that’s all you do, I can guarantee that they will be gone in a second, because they will see you as a doormat. Never attractive. So, yes, spoil them, but then do something surprising, call their bluff a bit, perhaps. And, if they seem into it, maybe text them your junk later—just as a dessert rather than a hors d’ouevre, if you will.
ps. what’s a party in a bathhouse?
pps. do you have a brother named kendrick?
Ha well “delightful” probably isn’t how I would describe it. “Bitter,” probably. I think I am still in a daze from my last relationship, which ended abruptly just days after Valentine’s Day. I try to avoid girls that are obviously terribly wrong, but it’s hard to know if someone’s the right kind of girl or not until it becomes apparent that something is not right. So I try not to stress about if someone is right or not. If they are it will work and if not then the worst is I’ll be a little frustrated. But yes, I agree I should throw some curveballs in there at the beginning. I try not to be that guy that is just up on girls hitting on them, but I suppose I need to do a little more than that so they at least understand my intentions. I am not opposed to junk-texting but I usually leave it for later, so as not to scare them away.
p.s. I’m hot
p.p.s. It’s a party. In a bathhouse. With steam rooms and saunas and jacuzzis (not a bathouse)
p.p.p.s. No but I have a brother named Roberto.
Dear Kendall…It actually sounds like you are doing all the right things. If you are taking girls to dinner and being gentlemanly and nice and occasionally funny, and listening to them talk, and talking back—and if, say, after a 1st or 2nd or, latest, 3rd date you attempt to kiss them—that should give them a pretty clear idea that you want to be more than friends, no need for scary premature junk-texting! If, however, they are girls who are just taking advantage of your bathhouse connections and don’t want to actually BE more than friends, you may sense a resistance to move things forward, which would mean, probably, that for whatever ridiculous reason, they’re not into it. And then I’d say, move on. There are a lot of great ladies in NY (I am assuming you are in NY, but I could be wrong) and I am certain you will find a good one. Say hi to your bro for me!
I might as well be in NY since I spend most of my free time there. Certainly that seems where all the ladies are. Whatever. Fuck em. I will tell my brother that his unemployed daughter said hello and he will be thoroughly confused I’m sure.