Be Careful What You Wish For, And Other Such Nonsense

Author’s Note: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Especially you. Bitch.

I have guy friends. I do! So all those clever quotes from When Harry Met Sally fail me in this, my long promised post on dating in the City.  Somehow between friends, ‘just friends’, and ‘maybe if I don’t meet her in the eyes no one will remember we used to be all over each other’ phases, having a significant other seems like the easy way out. So, how to get there. Since I am the perfect blend of foolish and brilliant, apparently have no morals, and about as trusting as they come, I am here to save the evening with my perspective.

In the past year I have tried to be with someone who would rather play with video games than me, a boy who wasn’t necessarily single, a boy who just desperately wanted to be single, and then a boy who, yes, was just definitely not single.  It sounds a little pathetic.  I know. Perhaps you’re judging me, but remember, I am also unemployed and still in my pajamas, so at least this pathetically hilarious.

Smile, nod, laugh. Works all the time. I’m blessed with a tendency to laugh at just about everything and huge breasts, so ahem, this is not the difficult part for me.  It’s everything after that makes wishing for arranged marriages seem rational. Even from a feminist and self declared female world leader’s point of view.

So what’s normal, those damn Dawson’s River kids, sleeping in each other’s beds and whatnot?

To the lab! After strenuous research, I thought I’d lay some ground rules on what dating actually is, just to clear up the apparent confusion.

Dating via Urban Dictionary: The modern day battlefield of romance where hearts are won and broken, the not-quite so version of chivalry and wooing, an interview for a lover; the lay down some time-and money and see if you get some candy routine; the progressed game of cat-and-mouse; the human courtship ritual; playing baseball for a home run, a socially acceptable form of prostitution.

Oh great! Don’t you feel better?  I know I do! And now thinking about mice and candy.

Anyways, I also thought I’d also give you a flow chart to make this really confusing concept a tad easier.


Better?

Okay, okay, I know this is really how it goes. You meet. You smile. You exchange numbers.  You get food! You hold hands. And then you make babies and live happily ever after!

Trust me, if this isn’t what’s happening, your just shit out of luck. Move on. You aren’t dating. Maybe you are spelunking, friends with benefits, or like some where between an exclusively unlabeled and super obvious friendship, but guess what, according to my profound and exhaustive research, not dating.  Trust me. I’m unemployed and taking over the world!

-H