I have several recently divorced friends that are dating. A term I use loosely because today’s dating is nothing short of Will Farrell meets The Saw. Seriously. If anything were to happen to The Man- I would get nine more cats, a shit ton on wine, lots of batteries and settle in for an eternity of singledom. There is absolutely no way I would subject myself to the crazy monkey mess of lies some of my girls are wading through. I would rather cuddle up with my cats and drink myself into a Fabio fueled romance dream- no games, all of the fun and none of the clean up. For instance:
Interweb dating is still popular. I don’t even buy a pair of shoes on-line so there is no way I would pick the dude I’m going to bang for the rest of my life out of the ‘this is my awesome picture from 15 years ago when I had a six-pack and hair’ line up. When I dated, I always found Mr. Next at work or within my social circle. That way, I could observe him when he wasn’t trying to impress me, confirm he’s not a serial killer (not convicted anyway) and buy his pals and ex-girlfriends enough booze to get first hand accounts of his life, quirks and propensity to be an ass hat. Also as insurance that my head wouldn’t be found in his freezer one day because if he puts me out of his misery- that’s one less chick to bring the main course to the holiday work/friend potlucks. Granted, I just wrapped up divorce number two, but at least I’m not a lamp shade in some freaks living room looming over his shoulder as he eats my arm and struts around in my Manolos. If interweb dating is your party- then I have to give you props for being braver than me to play in the world of the only data you get is what they want to give. Who knows if it’s the truth. So proceed with caution, have fun, take what they say with a grain of salt, stalk them diligently on Google and always pack a pistol. And a condom, just in case.
Confidence and hygiene are sort of important. Yet I hear stories of people showing up to first dates unshowered, bad breath and in machine shop clothes. Sorry, but if that’s your ‘first date look at me be awesome outfit’ then whats the next date’s attire? You in your dingy underwear sitting in your shit hole efficiency apartment barking orders at me to fetch the Totino’s frozen pizza out of the oven while your unemployed room-mate beats off to porn in the recliner? Gosh , that sounds delightful! Same for you, ladies. Wear your classy outfit, do the big shave, wear matching underwear and get your hair and make up in order. One of my friends has a killer go to combination she wears on dates and it smashes hearts at every blink: cute short-but not too short- dress, cowboy boots, bright jewelry, sparkles and perfect make up and hair. Oh, and freaking confidence and a smile that kills the hopes and dreams of any lesser woman in the place. Is she a super model? No, but don’t tell her that because she will beat your silly ass into a pulp while schooling you on how being a shiny, sparkly, take no prisoners woman is way more fucking epic than being a cookie cutter, no personality , dime store version of Gisele Bundchen. So take a page from her dating book- there is no one like her and she will make you cry if you dare say anything but that. See- confidence lets you be wildly successful at dating and squish the competition into a crying ball of snot, tears and mascara. Now isn’t that more fun than looking at dating profiles on line or trying to dig yourself out of some crazy man’s dungeon?