So………………What do YOU do when a guy doesn’t call?

We’ve all been through this before, right? You meet a guy—you had a great time—you gave him your number—a week or two goes by and—NOTHING.  No calls, no texts, N-A-D-A. You’re shocked—you’re wounded—you’re perplexed.  Well, if you’re anything like me, then you probably casually start replaying the scenario in which you met, over and over in your head…looking for clues about what could possibly have gone wrong.  Then you might mull over some of the things you said or did, that you wish you had said or done just a tad differently (especially if you were drinking!). THEN, once you’ve exhausted all the scenarios of beating yourself up….you run through all sorts of reasons about why he didn’t call due to his own personal issues or malfunctions. You know the drill—he lost your number, he’s a player, he’s young, he was drunk, he’s intimidated, he’s gay, he just got out of a relationship, he’s an idiot, etc., etc., etc. And then FINALLY (but always), you land upon the revelation that it doesn’t even really matter—it wasn’t meant to be—it’s HIS loss for not calling anyway. This, by the way, is all just a hypothetical manner in which someone might handle a silent “rejection”.

None of this strikes a chord so far? Hmmm….then maybe you are more like my friend “Roxy” (name changed to protect her identity). Let me tell you how my dear friend, Roxy, recently handled a situation when a guy that she met didn’t call her. Picture this. Winter, 2011 (February—the month of love to be exact). Hunter Mountain, New York. Roxy goes out with some friends after a not so hard day on the slopes. It’s the end of the night. Roxy’s on the dance floor swinging her hips and having a great time. All of a sudden, like a rockstar’s dream, Roxy is surrounded by a group of drunk, young men in Elvis costumes. You heard me—ELVIS. 

 

Roxy and one of the Kings of Rock ‘n’ Roll start dancing. She typically hates Rock ‘n’ Roll but it’s OK because she immediately feels a SERIOUS connection. Now, I know Roxy, and in this situation, she would normally grab a bull by the horns and go home with him—or at least take his number so that she’s in control of next steps. However, much to her friends suggestions, she has recently been re-evaluating her approach and was on a mission to try a different one—starting with this fella. It’s not easy, but Roxy lets the guy make the first move…and despite his repeated requests, she refuses to go back to his lodge with his gaggle of King impersonators. Who knows, maybe Roxy will even try to impersonate a little herself and play a little hard to get with this one, after all, there was a connection! Alas, Elvis asks for her number but as it turns out his jumpsuit has no pockets—therefore, he has no phone. Roxy stuffs her number in Elvis’ jumpsuit while thinking, hmm—this doesn’t seem very full proof, I hope he doesn’t lose it.  Elvis softly serenades “Love Me Tender,” they lock lips and say good night.

A few days go by back in NYC and nothing. No calls, no texts, no entries on missed connections—N-A-D-A. Roxy thinks to herself, I just knew he would lose that number in his pocket-less jumpsuit! She calmly starts piecing together all of the details she learned from their brief encounter. He likes to ski and dresses up as Elvis. Those aren’t very common attributes. He said he lived in the East Village (on first ave and first street to be exact). Well, there’s a lead. She knows his first name is Bill—another clue! So Roxy did what any of you might do????? She searched endlessly on Google, Facebook, plenty of fish, Elvis impersonator sites….it just wasn’t enough information for Roxy to zone in on her new man. So she researches bars in his neighborhood and narrows it down to the one place she is convinced her Elvis would be most likely to frequent. She goes to the East Village after work, innocently strolls around his block. No sign of him. She heads to what she thinks is “his” local bar, sits down and waits. Nothing—No Elvis, no Bill—no blue suede shoes. 

So what dear readers did this bodacious Roxy do next? Well, you’ll never guess…so let me just tell you! She put aside her brand new “let the guy make the first move” approach—and took matters into her own hands. The next day at work, she put a few words down on paper….made some copies….grabbed a roll of tape……..and took a stroll down to  first ave and first street. This Queen wasn’t going to let this potential King go. Roxy posted her new homemade flyers (see below for the ACTUAL flyer that was posted—only her name was changed!) ALL over the East Village!!!!!!!  Telephone poles, street signs, mailboxes—if Elvis was “in the building”, he was NOT gonna miss this one! Feeling charged and liberated, Roxy went back to “his” neighborhood bar sat back patiently and waited for him to either walk in or flood her inbox—after all, he would be so relieved she found him.

Well folks, I wish I could say this story had a happy, fairytale ending, you know, the kind to tell your grandchildren…but I can’t. The only email Roxy received from her flyer was from a random guy saying “he’s an idiot, you’re cute, call me” but sigh—nothing from Elvis. Who can say if“Bill aka Elvis” did or didn’t see the flyers or how he would have reacted if he did. How would you react??? So while I can’t say I agree with or approve of what my friend did, I will say—she’s a hopeless romantic who has a lot of heart and some gigantic balls! And alas, we can just add this story to the files of crazy shit my friends tell me.

I think it’s most appropriate to end this one with a quote from the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll himself:

“ ‘Til we meet again, may God bless you. Adios.”
-Said in 1977 at the end of a concert during his last tour

MATCH.COM—WHO THE F*CK ARE THESE PEOPLE!?!?!

Those of you who have been following me on Facebook already know that for the first time EVER I recently plunged into the abyss of online dating. If you know me at all—then you know this decision was EPIC. My experience so far however, has been anything but.

I set up my profile on a whim late one night (no i wasn't drunk you smartass...ok well maybe there were a couple of glasses of wine on hand) pretty quickly for fear that if I took too long to think about what I was doing that I would chicken out and walk away. Over the course of the first week I had so many mixed emotions about the whole experience and probably changed my profile verbiage about 4 million times—what can I say, I’m new to this! I was terrified and excited all at once. On the one hand, I didn't like the idea of all sorts of men—all over the universe (including some I already knew/dated), peering over words and pictures pertaining to this 'ol single gal (especially from the distant comfort of their own bedroom, if you know what I mean)! On the other hand, I anticipated a flurry of new and amazing eligible bachelors to flood my inbox—and sure enough, like a Tsunami—THINGS happened.

I will never forget my initial reaction to the first few days of searching and being searched on Match.com—ready for it??? WHO THE F*CK ARE THESE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!! I remember this reaction so clearly because I still have it EVERY time I log on to this site. Now don’t get me wrong, I'm not a snob and despite what some of you may say, my expectations are NOT too high (trust me)!  I admit I am still new to the whole experience but my first impression is that I really don't know how "1 in 5 relationships start on Match.com" (or whatever the hell they claim). A month and a half in on this site with millions of singles, I've only been out with ONE guy so far and he turned out to be a case file (to be included in a later report). It's not that I'm not getting attention on there, quite the contrary actually. It's just that these guys are B-R-U-T-A-L. From what I have seen so far, these guys are WORSE than the guys I meet out there in the “real world” and you can bet that I NEVER imagined to be PAYING FOR THAT.

Anyways, there will be PLENTY more to come on this topic. In the meantime, here's a top 5 that will hopefully get your weekend laughter started a little early...

5 Ways NOT to grab my attention (or probably anyone else’s) on Match.com

5. Bait and switch.

In case you are unfamiliar with the term, here are a few scenarios. Your profile picture: 
-Is ridiculously blurry.
What exactly are you hiding from?? On to the next...
-Is taken SO far away that i can't even make out if you are a man.
Again, what are you hiding from? (My guess is a girlfriend)

-Is you wearing a hat.
So basically what you are saying is that you either still dress like you are 20yrs old or most likely, you are bald or have a receding hairline. (Personally, I don't mind bald but COME ON, we know this trick—just show us a genuine shot up front please)

-Is you with no shirt on or taking a picture of yourself in front of a mirror.
Wow, cheesy and creepy—NO thanks.

4. You can’t spell. 

Look, we all make these mistakes from time to time but spell check is out there and you still have a profile littered with misspellings--REALLY??? You’re either overly careless, not that bright, foreign (not that there's anything wrong with that)—or all 3 of the above.

3. You mention an ex in your description. 

For example, "I recently moved to NYC for my ex and it didn't work out so now I'm on here". SERIOUSLY??? Which part of that do you think WE want to hear in the first 15 seconds of reading your profile...I guarantee he would spend half of the date talking about his ex. Move on buddy.

2. Simple formula: I wink + you wink back = game over. 

Get some balls and make a REAL move!!

1. Cut and paste. 

Seeing is believing...here are just a few of the ridiculous emails I received on this wonderful dating site. Please note, I have not edited a word! All I will say is that I can't imagine how many women have received these exact emails!

Email from a 36yr old: (this one is my favorite)

"Listen, you have the most contagious smile I've ever seen! It's like being at the carnival or blowing bubbles when you were a kid- you can't help but break out into a huge grin!...Very Attractive!

You seem very down to earth, i like that.. Only way to be in my book, seriously...."

Part of an email from another 36yr old, this one lives in Florida (the entire email was just too long to share!):

"The woman in Florida are so rude that I have decided to look in the NYC area. Tell me more about yourself.I am not into mind games,drugs or drama. Please feel free to call me at anytime at (561)XXX-XXXX.If you are interested please leave me a voicemail with your contact number and I shall call ya back. Since you love to travel maybe there is a chance you can come down to Florida this summer."

From a 42yr old:

"How do you feel about cat's ?"

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That's all  I can take for now folks but you can bet on more Match.com rants to come…

Oh, how desperately I want you inside of me…

I was recently dishing with one of my guy friends about crazy things that guys/girls do when they feel like they had a connection with someone and have been rejected. He started laughing and casually browsed his iphone e-mail archives and handed it over to me for review. It was an e-mail from a chick he met a few years back that he had only hung out with a few times. As you will see, there’s really no backstory needed for this one...

WARNING: What you are about to read is an unedited e-mail this chick sent to my friend after clearly a few too many cocktails on HER BIRTHDAY!

Hey,

So it is my birthday, and this is the first time that I have e-mailed you in a very long time. But I have a few things to say: First, I think about you and really want you inside of me; that is, I want your penis inside of me and I want you to go down on me and I want to go down on you and I want to have sex with you, you make me wet when I think about you when I masturbate, which is more often than I would like; second, I am mad that you haven't e-mailed; you have really made me feel like a cheap prostitute, like someone you just wanted to fuck with, with no kind of follow up and I am not really that kind of girl. Why haven't you called or e-mailed? What is wrong with you? I don't want to be your girlfriend. I would be a terrible girlfriend, and I am sorry if I said shit like that to you a while you were at my house, you know, an ultimatum or something like that. I think that we could maybe be friends and have fun together. I kind of want you to take care of me, in an affectionate kind of way; not in a boyfriend kind of way. I apologize for the last time when I was kind of quiet. I have been dealing with a lot of shit lately.

Ok, I am going to go now because i NEED to get some water. Can we just talk. I would really like to talk,

p.s. I am coming in this weekend; do you want to meet for a drink or something? like maybe saturday night?

I think this one pretty much speaks for itself...I am sure we have ALL been tempted at one time or another to send or say these types of things but believe me—it’s not doing anything to help fight that old adage that “all girls are crazy”. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE Sassy readers—I beg you NOT to do this! I promise there are many, many, more productive and less embarrassing ways to handle a rejection or break up and I will cover that discussion soon!

In the meantime, next time you are feeling this way, write the email and send it to me or a friend instead...we promise you will feel better about it the next morning ;)

10 Reasons I am Happy to be Single in my 30’s

10. I didn’t have to get out of bed today until I decided to do so at around 11am, by that time  all of my mommy friends had already cleaned the house, wiped up at least 3 pukes and changed 6 diapers—If I’m cleaning up anyone’s puke, it’s my own!

9. There are way too many people out there who are married and miserable—we all know these couples and we don’t want to be them.

8. People in their 30’s are already getting divorced—some are even on their second marriage!

7. Cheating. If you’re single, you don’t have to deal with it.

6. My monthly budget is appropriately and respectively allocated to: rent, last-minute travel excursions, drinking, shopping and dining out—no worries here about paying for weddings, strollers or college funds!

5. I learn something new about myself with every person I date—even if some of them are torture, at least I’m still growing.

4. I can be spontaneous and don’t have to answer to anyone. Repeat: I can be spontaneous and don’t have to answer to anyone! 

3. The guiltless excitement and prospect of meeting a new fella EVERY time I walk out that door!

2. I still look like I’m in my 20’s—trust me, it’s true AND it gets me into trouble ;)

1. Have you seen the single guys out there lately? I’m not settling for any of those douchebags anytime soon!

And bonus reason: I have the freedom to sit here and write this top 10 while eating bonbons in front of the TV in the peace and quiet of my fab NYC apartment.

Keep trenching out there my single peeps and any time you get down about it remember—there’s a lot to be grateful for each and every day as the fabulous single person you are!

When honesty is NOT the best policy

Just like my moods, my dating life has its ups and downs. One thing that’s fairly consistent is that just when I think I have seen and heard it all, the surprises keep coming.

I went on a ‘date’ (using this term loosely) this past weekend with a guy that I met a few nights earlier at a bar. Granted, we met at the end of the night so we really didn’t get to know each other, but I did recall that he was pretty cute. He actually picked up the phone to call me to make plans instead of the typical texting back and forth. We decided to meet for a late afternoon rendezvous. I felt pretty optimistic about the possibility of a great evening.

It was a beautiful day so we went to a hotel roof bar to enjoy some time outside. There was no hiding that we were attracted to each other and both pleasantly surprised that we looked even better in daylight. We smirked and chatted a bit while I sipped my delicious mojito and he sat back drinking his beer. The conversation was a bit forced but nevertheless, it flowed. I’m not really sure how many red flags I encountered within the first 30 minutes because, well, I had to stop counting.

I quickly learned that this 27 year old fella had been laid off from his bartending job a few days ago. I could tell that it was all still very raw for him. He was bitter and openly expressing his concern about not knowing how he was going to pay rent (I started to feel a little guilty about the $16 mojito that I just ordered).  I gave him some words of encouragement and the conversation moved on (temporarily). 

Schmo—let’s call him Schmo, well, because he was one—went on to fill me in about how he grew up in Michigan until he was about 17 years old, after which he was kicked out of his parent’s house. Then he headed south to attend university. He went on to attend 5 different colleges, in 4 different states. Schmo didn’t manage to graduate from any of them, but he says he learned a lot. This Schmo also didn’t like to stay in one place for too long (maybe the law was following him?). Actually, he did mention an arrest when he was 16, for breaking and entering…I won’t get into it.  Next up is his family situation...Schmo doesn’t have a relationship with his parents—at all. “I might send my mom an email tomorrow to wish her a happy mother’s day,” are his exact words. What a doll. I decide not to judge and to give this Schmo a proper chance, he’s cute and I haven’t been on a date in a while.

We leave the fabulous roof bar to find something "cheaper" where we can watch the game. As we pass a nearby pub we see a sign for happy hour, he’s sold. Schmo asks the bartender about the specials. $10 bud light pitchers—he looks and asks me if that’s ok. Sure why not, I got this one, I say. “Ok” he (a little too) gladly says. I’m irritated but whatever, I’m a sport. Schmo starts chatting up the bartenders, I could tell he was not just being friendly, Schmo had an agenda, this Schmo wanted a job. A few minutes later one of the bartenders takes a break from behind the bar to enjoy his tobacco dip. Guess what?? Schmo likes dip, too. He even had his own tub with him—what a coincidence! Would I mind if he partook at the bar? Go for it. After about 20 mins of watching him spit into a cup, I ordered 2 shots of jack. I was already buzzed, what else was I going to do?

As I anticipated, a few minutes later, Schmo takes out a resume to hand to the bartender. It was a little awkward but I guess I admire his motivation, or at least I should. Mind if I take a look, I ask? Sure. The first line, his objective, says ‘seeking full time employment’. Here, take it back I don’t need to see it…2 more shots please! 

3 pitchers and 3 shots later, we were making friends all over the bar. Somehow 7 hours had gone by with this Schmo but now it was time to make a decision. He had told me earlier that he had to stop by a birthday party down the street and invited me to join.

Who’s the friend, I innocently ask? Oh, just a female friend of mine. Cool, I say…contemplating if I want to keep the night going or head home. Well if you are going to come, then there is something I should tell you, he says. There is an uncomfortable pause. I’ve hooked up with the friend who’s birthday it is. Umm…ok I say.  So then if I go, would that be weird for you…or for her, I ask?  No, he says…I just wanted to let you know so that there aren’t any surprises. Umm ok, I repeat. There is another long pause as I mull it all over in my head. Like how long ago are we talking about here, I ask? Umm…I don’t know…like last night, he says.

I look at Schmo in what I imagine can only be described as sheer and utter disbelief—I was dumfounded. The scene went something like this....WHAT?!?! Are you SERIOUS?? Are you really trying to take me to a birthday party right now for a friend who you just had sex with LAST NIGHT?!?! WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THIS, ARE YOU AN IDIOT!?!  Schmo tells me that he’s mad at himself for being "so honest". Yea well you should be, I say! I’ve met a lot of Schmo’s in my time but never one quite like this.  Many, many expletives later I made him leave the bar and warned him to never call me again. At least he made my decision easy.

Moral of this story: Don’t mess with a Schmo, even an honest one.

   

So......how many guys out there still have my number??

Ok, I give out my number at bars—guilty as charged! I did it again this weekend…but there’s always a reason or story, right? Sometimes I am indeed into the guy but many times it’s just easier to give up your digits than to deal with the awkwardness of rejecting someone on the spot. We used to be able to get away with giving out a wrong name or number—leaving us off the hook and leaving our suitor with a glimmer of hope that out of the 10 different numbers he got that night, ours just might be the one that will actually work.

Times are different now. Guys are more saavy and have wised up to our antics. You can’t just give out a fake number like you used to because there’s no more writing it down on a dirty, wet, bar napkin and hoping that it gets misplaced or the ink bleeds it illegible.  Those days are gone.  Now guys want to immediately add you into their phone and call you right then and there so you have their number too and most importantly so that they can see you if you are being legit! And if they are REALLY into you—or is it—if they are really aggressive, or really manic, or really into social connections—they will want to immediately synch you up on their chats, facebook and twitter, too.  Whoo-hoo!

But wait….didn’t we just meet?!? You’re already browsing pictures of me online, reading my status updates, checking out my friends and connecting with me all day, every day?? What's up with that? Did you just want to make sure it wasn’t the beer goggles and that I’m as cute as you remembered before making a move? Are you trying to increase your number of facebook friends? Do you have ADD or need constant attention? Whatever the reason, make no mistake—this is NOT the way to go.

The reality is, if you give someone your number, it means that you are potentially into them. This means depending on your interactions, things could easily, and quickly, go either way—full on head over heels or get me the hell out of here fast! Unfortunately, there’s not much room in between when you connect full throttle too soon—so why rush it?  As women, we will likely overanalyze everything (sorry, but it’s true) we see and read on this new guys fb page, bbm updates, etc.  As a guy, this new immersion into everything about you will likely fulfill instant gratifications but will not offer enough of the mystery we know you so often crave in the early stages of dating.

We rarely use the phone to talk anymore and it’s difficult enough to get to know someone over texts—which already seems to be like sooooo yesterday. By adding more layers of connections—a crash course into both of your personal lives—from day one, things are bound to get complicated fast.  Call me old fashioned (you wouldn’t be the first) but in the beginning—isn’t the fun part discovering things about each other together as they happen, as opposed to learning about each other solo in the confinement of your own home via your laptop or iphone?  Connections are so important so make them real and make them count!

‘A hidden connection is stronger than an obvious one.’ --Heraclitus of Ephesus

SWF seeking medium sized balls…

I LOVE BALLS. There, I said it. The problem is that I don’t like all balls and let’s face it, there’s quite a variety of these suckers out there. Let’s do a brief recap, shall we? There are big balls, small balls, firm balls, saggy balls, light balls, dark balls, blue balls, bouncy balls, the one ball, the three ball (not actually sure about this but figured I’d throw it in), smelly balls, hairy balls, sweaty balls, goofy balls, bruised balls, salty balls, low hanging balls, prickly balls, sensitive balls…the list goes on and on, do you catch my drift? 

For the purpose of this exercise let’s keep things simple and focus on the size and character of these balls. Now, in my humble experience our population is overcrowded with two specific categories of men—those who have small, wimpy, weepy balls—and those who have big, giant, barbaric balls. As you can imagine…this creates a great unbalance in the dating universe that forces those with more average, normal—regular if you will—nuggets from bursting through the pack.  

Let’s dive deeper, shall we. Some women may think there’s no way to discern the size of a man’s family jewels until they are dangling smack in front of your face.  Well, I beg to differ. I challenge you to pay attention to these blatant warning signs that will help you determine early on which ones you’re juggling with so you can decide which are worth making your own.

How to tell when a man’s suffering from tiny balls syndrome:

He thinks you’re cute but can’t approach you

He asked for your number but doesn’t call

He is too intimidated by you to date you

He likes you but is afraid to tell you (this is diff than above)

You’ve gone on 5 dates and he still hasn’t tried to kiss you

You’ve been dating for months and he still hasn’t met (or attempted to meet) your friends

He won’t be the 1^st (or only) guy in his pack to have a girlfriend or wife

He settles with an unhappy, unfulfilling relationship—because it’s easy

When he falls in love, he runs away from it

He cheats

How to tell when a man’s suffering from gigantic balls syndrome:

You just met and he’s already calling you at 3am

For your first date, he takes you to his ‘regular spot’ (where everyone knows his name and all his previous dates have also suffered—which also happens to be a block from where he lives)

He suggests you go back to his place after said first date

If you don’t go for that, he tries to ‘sext’ after this first date

He continues to booty call you, even though you don’t respond

No really, he won’t stop texting, even though you don’t respond and it’s now months later…

He has a gf/wife and is still trying to get in your pants

You are completely out of his league and he approaches you anyway

He takes you out for a drink and a ‘tapa’ and expects to get some

He wants to do a drive-by after he just got some a#@ from another girl

He charmingly, yet aggressively keeps asking for nude pics (wtf already!)

He doesn’t put the toilet seat down before he leaves in the morning

Sigh, that was exhausting. What happened to all of the guys in the middle—you know, with medium the sized balls? The ones who aren’t afraid of their feelings and know how to court a woman in a purposeful, classy kind of way? The ones who aren’t afraid to do the right thing and to take a little chance even if it meant they might get hurt once in a while. Guys—we know you’re still out there getting knocked around by all the other haphazard balls—but really, so are we!  Until then….we will continue on the conquest for the just right, medium sized balls. Now THAT would be a happy ending!

Cougar or pedophile?

Two very distinct…and seemingly unrelated words—yet is it possible the line between them is blurring?

First let’s do a definition check…what exactly is a ‘Cougar’? It is almost universally defined as a slang term for a woman in her 30s or 40s (although it used to be just 40 and up) who seeks out, preys on and actively pursues casual sexual relationships (that’s what it says!) with young men (typically at least 10 years younger).

Now let’s compare that with the definition of a pedophile......An adult who is sexually attracted to young children.  

Do you see why there might be some confusion on the interpretation of these two terms?  This question came to mind when I met a friend out for a few drinks after work. From the outside, it was a seemingly regular happy hour spot but as soon as we walked in—we felt OLD. Now, I have to admit…we both look pretty young for our age and can easily hang in any circle—but looking around at this sea of underage boys, I felt like just even smiling at one of them would be committing some perverted crime. I mean, just HOW young could they really be because they all looked around 19 years old—and well, that could be a problem. Are we supposed to start proofing guys now before even making eye contact?

You may be surprised to hear this but we fled that bar like two cougars being hunted down and hope to never return! Yet a few nights later I was faced with the very same question at a swanky spot in the neighborhood. I walked up to the bar to order a few drinks for my friends and met a cute guy sitting next to me. He just got off his shift bartending somewhere else and stopped in to have a night cap—a scotch on the rocks.  We quickly immersed into a great conversation and before you know it two hours had gone by.  As we were profoundly debating the big bang theory—joking—but whatever it is that we were talking about it—it was pretty deep, not your typical first introduction conversation. Then...I’m not really sure how it came up but he made a reference to just getting out of school and I nearly spit out my drink. Just how old are you, I coolly ask? He replies –22--! Ok, not to be an ageist here...but do you know any 22 year old guys who would go out ALONE on a Saturday night and sit at a crowded bar drinking scotch on the rocks? There were just no warning signs about this one!  And by the way…didn’t he just legally start drinking last year (mental note: he would have a lot of catching up to do).

So in my head now, I’m wondering…what exactly is my cut off age—18, 20, 22? This was getting ridiculous. I was skeptical but I convinced myself that since we spoke for more than two hours upon meeting that he MUST be special and to just go with it. (Side note: This might explain why friends keep calling me a cougar).  I gave him my number and left.  He sent me a really sweet, perfectly worded ‘nice meeting you’ type of text the following day. However, if I had paid closer attention to my own rules…I would have been forewarned by his usage of ‘Miss <your first name goes here>’ in his very first text—as I previously outlined in my 5 sure signs that you are dealing with a douchebag post.

I have to admit, I felt a little dirty telling my friends that I was going out with such a youngin…and knew there would be no end in sight to the jokes that were about to come my way for this one. Nevertheless, we went on two really long, romantic dates. There was something really sweet about this lil fella as he tried to impress me with thoughtful plans and took me to hip and trendy spots. The problem, for me, was that he also tried just a little too hard to get me back to his place every time. With each failed attempt at getting in my pants his persistence finally wore off and alas, he was phased out—sparing me from crossing my newly defined personal pedophilia grey line (I may have to copyright this phrase).

In my opinion, the term cougar has become so mainstream and liberally used nowadays that it seems to simply refer to a woman dating a younger guy, regardless of age. It’s amusing that the general public subscribes to the notion that ‘cougars’ are out there hunting rather than being hunted.  In my experience, I have seen the opposite...so maybe everyone is just more open-minded about age when choosing dates, lovers and partners nowadays.  While age disparity tolerance levels are personal, that fine line does exist out there—it’s just different for everyone.  My lesson in this one is that while this cub was surprisingly mature, well versed and a GREAT conversationist…I’m trying to narrow my age gap just a little to something that works better for me. So while I’m still open to dating younger guys, I might not go quite so young (into the early 20’s) like some of the more certified cougars out there.

You can definitely bet on more postings on cougar topics to come…

The Aardvark.

Aardvark (ahrd-vahrk) – noun

A large, nocturnal, burrowing mammal (Orycteropus afer) of Africa, having a long tubular snout, extensile tongue, long ears and powerful digging claws. Also known as an uncircumcised penis.

For me, this has always been somewhat of a legend—kind of like Bigfoot—you’ve heard about it over the years but never really encountered one for yourself so you aren’t really sure whether or not it actually exists.  Well, let me tell you, these purportedly cheeky anteaters ARE out there—and they may just turn up in your bedroom when you least expect! Here’s how my first encounter went down…

It was a Thursday night and I met a girlfriend out at a random Irish pub. A couple of guys started to chat us up. She was into one, I wasn’t into the other but then—long and behold, a friend of theirs showed up. At first glance he was from head to toe…well, delicious. He was young—but not too young, shaved head, beautiful blue eyes, fit—but not too fit, and sporting a few cool tattoos. We instantly locked eyes and it was game on! The night carried us off to a few other pubs. Many drinks (and shots) later I learned that he had only been in the States for a few months. He was fresh off the boat from Ireland and had the HOT accent to prove it.  Let’s continue to call him ‘he’ since I can’t remember his name—although I do recall it was a Celtic name that I had never heard of and that I had trouble pronouncing. Needless to say, I was intrigued...and before you know it we were making out at the bar.

Fast forward to MANY more drinks (and shots) later…one thing led to another and we were back at my place. We were HOT for each other—clothes came off fast as we were rolling around in the heat of sheer passion.........and then.......GASP! There. IT. Was.  For the first time in my life—I was face to face with an aardvark—the unusual, fearless figure that I had only heard about.  All I could think was—what, he couldn’t give me a little forewarning—maybe a little heads up? (Oh yes, those puns are intended).  Well I had to make a decision about this one and fast! Was I going to feign a drunken illness and kick this hot young lad out of my place? Or was I going to proceed, full speed ahead into this unchartered territory while trying my best not to awkwardly stare at this face that only a father could love that was right in front of me? Well...the beast was already unleashed so what the hell, right?  

It was a wild, steamy night. So much so that I called in sick to work the next day (rare occurrence) and we continued to enjoy a hot and heavy morning-after. When it was all over I rolled out of bed feeling both dizzy and giddy—fresh hangover style. I walked him out and then I kept walking…I met a girlfriend out for a liquid lunch—couldn’t waste a sick day and I had to share this new war story with someone fast!

I never heard from that stout anteater again…and actually, I’m perfectly ok with that. Not because of his aardvark but because during pillow talk the next morning he openly shared with me that even though it has only been a few months, he was really enjoying living here because women back home (Ireland) were so difficult...and here (in NYC) he could easily sleep with at least 8-9 new women a month. Sigh. But let’s not digress. 

Ladies, please take note—these frisky nocturnal mammals are definitely out there and while they may not be as ‘pretty’ as we are used to, trust me—you do not want to judge these books by their covers, just go for it!

If you weren’t such a douchebag, I would totally do you

Despite popular belief, more times than not—it’s the man—not the woman, who can’t handle or execute a casual relationship. Listen up men, women were not just put on this heavenly earth to clean your house and make babies, we too have a healthy sexual appetite that we need to satisfy. So what’s the problem? Men and women just typically have very different thoughts about how a coveted 'friend with benefits' setup should work…which leads us to the five key steps for success that are outlined below.

5 Must-Do’s to Get the Friend With Benefits Situation of Your Dreams

Communicate—Be upfront. As soon as you know that’s all you want, tell the other person. Don’t worry about hurting anyone’s feelings…chances are that you’re not that special and they probably only want that too! By making sure you are both on the same page from the beginning, you will get out of doing all sorts of things—including, not having to participate in fancy dinners, holiday gifts, spooning or hand holding (sigh in relief).

Don’t be afraid to meet out in public—Even though you are not 'dating', there’s no reason you can’t meet each other out. It will make you both feel more comfortable. If you don’t want to be seen out in public because you have a girlfriend (or boyfriend) or better yet a wife (or husband), well then, you are just a douchebag. 

Set it up in advance—There’s nothing worse than getting a text at 4am trying to set up a rendezvous.  Can you even put two words together in the condition you are in, you cutie pie? It’s always better to hit each other up earlier in the evening to make tentative plans. What’s better than knowing you have a sure thing at the end of the night? You can always cancel—but trust me, it’s better than attempting your first reach out late night and risking that your steamy friend with benefits has already settled for some other late night caller or worse, is already asleep (opportunity missed).

Make contact within 2 days after—You don’t have to ‘call the next day’ but sending a flirty text or email after you ravish each other will keep it interesting and exciting for both of you.  It will also show that there’s a level of respect between you (important). And oh by the way, this is the perfect time to brush up on your sexting and phone sex skills—get on it.

Keep it semi-regular—Let’s face it, it’s not easy to create a functional friend with benefits situation in the first place…so why ruin it by going off the map after you hang out. Then you risk turning the other person off, losing the momentum, and having to start back at square one every time you see each other. That’s just dumb, and a lot of extra work. You both want to have sex and lots of it too, so be sure to keep it going—I’m just sayin!

For more about douchebags, read my prior post--5 sure signs that you are dealing with a douchebag.

5 sure signs that you are dealing with a douchebag

He has referred to you as 'Miss <your first name goes here>'.

This may seem cute and endearing at first but please don’t fall for it. History has shown time and time again that this guy is a professional douchebag. Run for the hills before you are weaved into his tangled web—trust me.

He overuses emoticons ;) or '!' in texts and emails.

Ok, we’ve all seen this one before. This is the fastest way to appear like you are:

A: insecure—you need to make sure we understand your mood and intent for every word

B: a serial texter—you know more shorthand than my teenage cousin

C: annoying!!!!!!! ;) XO :*)

D: really a chick—come on, only our girlfriends can get away with this kind of texting

He contacts you regularly but he’s always ‘working’ or hanging out ‘with the boys’.

Excuses, excuses and lots of ‘em. The fact is that men like—no men need—regular female contact, both physically and emotionally. So rest assured, if he’s not getting both of these types of attention that he craves from you—he’s getting it somewhere else. He probably already has a girlfriend, or several. If he’s into you he will make time to see you. Case closed.

You haven’t heard from him in 4 or more days.

Momentum is gone. Refer to answer above.

He’s often looking to say 'hi' or hang out at 3am (or really this goes for any time after 11pm).

He’s just a douchebag.