let’s face it, that’s what most internet dating sites should be called…
…and i can’t even imagine how it is for women.
most of the sites are about 3,467 men to every one girl. on the upside, it’ll make a girl feel popular, i suppose. on the down side? i think it probably makes her feel TOO damn popular.
lately it seems like i stumble on my share of first date/last date nights at my preferred watering hole – and it’s pretty fucking obvious. i had a couple there myself, and honestly could not be happier that those days are behind me. is yours destined for disaster? here’s a sign or two (or six) it just might be:
it’s just the three of you – you, her (or him), and her (or his) phone. checking early? checking often? check please! bail that shit – they’re already hunting for the after party, and your ass probably isn’t invited. when i witnessed one recently where another guy kept texting “boo, where you at?!?” but she had her phone next to me (i was sitting next to them at the bar) and could see the texts; she finally flipped her phone screen side down.
no new tale to tell – profiles tend to get a little long winded on sites these days, i’ve noticed (it should be noted that due to various jobs with really odd schedules i’ve resorted to these sites a couple times over the last decade or more so i can sadly spot trends here). but if you’re not finding out any NEW shit on the first date, save for maybe a generic “what happened at work today” kind of story that’s not a good sign…
there’s flirty, and then there’s FLIRTY – i can be a bit of a flirt sometimes, and i have a habit of referring to female service folk as “dear”, but i got that from my grandmother (i even use “dear” half the time when i know their name) but if your date seems almost TOO flirty with your waitstaff, especially if they’re the opposite sex, that can be a red flag. step back and ask, if the waiter (or bartender) was your buddy and you were just observing this, would you wanna comment, “i think you could get you some of that?” – if so, THEY probably can…YOU probably can’t. or won’t.
feeling like the third wheel on your own date? roll on then… – one of the incidents that inspired this bit was the phone flipper mentioned above – who at one point was paying more attention to me and having more conversation with me then the guy buying her shit…to the point where she shushed him when he tried to interject into the conversation. if i were him? i’d have excused myself to the restroom…at my house. and left that bitch at the bar.
the bill spikes – a LOT – i’m not saying women are “gold diggers” or “whores” or anything like that…but she came out (hopefully) with the best of intentions…that the night would be fun, the company pleasant, and (in theory) that maybe their facebook status would change in the not-so-distant future. if she (early on) realizes that this ain’t the case, all that time in front of the mirror and picking out the “just right” shoes and putting on the sexy-ass lingerie (just in case) comes with a price tag…and if you ain’t paying it with laughter and charm, your wallet WILL pick up the slack a good chunk of the time; so if the drink suddenly turns to “top shelf” cosmos or lobster gets ordered your personality didn’t pay the bill.
there’s all kinds of eye contact, and it ain’t with you… – this was another incident that inspired this bit. the bar downstairs at trudy’s where i hang is a circle, and if you’re at the end the people on one side can eye the other side – and eye they did when you could tell a girl was on a regrettable first date…i got eye fucked for a half hour or so before their table was ready. he seemed clueless to this as he droned on about whatever it was that had him (the guy babbling) captivated but clearly had no impact on her night one way or the other…