Who should pick up the bill?

My own rules of engagement:

1. If a guy asks me out on a date, he must pay. What if he doesn’t? Then he is DUNZO.

2. If a guy who is interested in me lets me pay for half the bill I will consider him cheap, poor, and ill-mannered. Read: Not worth my time.

3. It is OK for guys to let me buy the dessert or something small like that. Not on the first date though.

* Note: once you are actually boyfriend/girlfriend the rules change and anything is game. My favorite method is letting whoever earns more pick up most of the bills.

**Special Note: In the off chance that I do make more than my man and have to pick up most of the bills — Wait, what am I talking about?? No way I would put up with that. Next!

My final words of wisdom: Guys, you have nothing to lose (other than the obvious, money) by stepping up and paying. Women may pretend that they don’t like to be paid for and want to help out, but WARNING:DO NOT fall for this, we are just testing you. Pick up the damn bill. Please.

Whats your take? Click on the link below to take our poll:

Who pays for dinner dates?
( polls)

How to scare the shit out of a guy on a second “date”

Submitted by Dutch

Quick background:
I met a girl playing in a co-ed softball tournament; we shall call her Crazy-Pants. We flirted all day during the tournament and after it was over, we decided to hang out and have dinner together. Dinner turned into movie on her couch where we had a great time getting to know each other. I felt like I didn’t want to rush anything so I kissed her goodnight and went home.
I called her up a few days later to set up a second date. Since I’m not a traditional-type-of-date kind of guy, I decided dinner or a movie wouldn’t do. We were both athletes that enjoyed competing, so I decided laser tag would be a sweet second date. I imagined whipping her ass at that, getting ice cream and then finding a playground to play on the swings. I propositioned her and she was all about it. When Friday night came along, however, plans took a turn for disaster.
Friday:
Crazy-Pants worked on Friday serving at a sports bar so I was going to wait till she got off work and pick her up at her place at 8PM. On my way to her house, at around 7:30PM, I called her up to make sure she was ready to go. Turns out she wasn’t. After she had gotten off work, she decided to have some drinks with co-workers and good friends at the bar. She asked if I wanted to come and join them at a friend’s house. Not wanting to be a party pooper, I went with the flow. I met her at a gas station near the house we were headed to. She greeted me with a hug and kiss, which I was happy to accept, but figured out quickly that she was hammered drunk. At that moment, I’m not exactly sure what I was more perturbed about in the situation:
a) Her completely gaffing off our date plans to hang out with people she sees all the time.
b) Her driving drunk (turns out she had a past DUI).
c) Her showing up to the date drunk.
None of the choices were amusing to me at all. I played along though and went to meet her friends. (I followed her to the house since she wouldn’t let me take her keys, classic non-sober move.) When I entered the home, I found a lack of people my age (ps-I’m 26, she is 24). Apparently the people she likes to hang out with are older, married couples in their 40’s. There were 4 couples, Crazy-Pants, and myself. Everyone except for me was drunk. I’m not talking, a-few-too-many-glasses-of-wine drunk, which is standard for people of this age group…I’m talking, we’ve-been-taking-tequila-shooters-since-four-in-the-afternoon stumbling drunk.
She takes me around to meet everyone and then I sit on the couch to visit with the drunks. The very first conversation is with a woman that tells us about her husband, how long they have been together, and how great marriage is. We shall call her Drunk Old Lady (DOL). She finishes her lecture and then turns her attention to us.
(My thoughts and facial expressions shall be in parenthesis from here on out…)
DOL: “so are you two thinking about getting married?” (WTF? and eyes open in shock)
Crazy-Pants: “well we’ve only been dating a week (we have? And confusion), but who knows where things will go from here (absolutely terrified, but I keep a straight poker face).
Dutch: absolute silence
The girls continue to talk to themselves about our future together while I nearly blackout. I can’t decided whether to A) sweat this out a little longer since the situation is terrifying, yet morbidly humorous or B) throw this girl off my lap and sprint to my car. I go with what makes a better story in life and hang out for a while. Thankfully there was a Giants game going on that I could watch and occupy my mind from this clusterfuck of a situation. Crazy-Pants continues to parade me around to her friends, but I am as lame of a guy than I have ever been, replying with one word answers and short statements when possible. Another odd conversation comes up later.
Random Dude: So where is Jeremy tonight? (who is Jeremy?)
Crazy-Pants: Oh I dropped him off at my mom’s today. (is Jeremy her child?!?)
She then looks at me and tells me she has a 7 year old kid, and then quickly changes the subject with the other person, just like I wouldn’t notice or care. (Maybe I should pretend to go to the bathroom and leave). I could be wrong, but that seems like something I might tell my date on the first date…..or maybe tell them before starting to plan our wedding.
Meanwhile, Crazy-Pants tried to pump me full of alcohol, which would have been helpful, to smooth the situation out, but I had decided to drive home ASAP and thus refrained. Pretty soon Crazy-Pants took me aside and asked why I wasn’t myself. I explained that I felt out place, but she couldn’t understand why I would ever feel awkward. That was the last straw. This girl was as dumb as bricks and socially inept if she couldn’t empathize with the disturbing situation she had put me in, so I told her I wasn’t feeling well and was going to leave. She then offered to leave with me so we could go back to her place and fool around……riiiiiiiiiiiight. I couldn’t be more turned off by this situation. She could have offered to blow me for an hour while I drank beer and watched Sports Center and I still would have passed. This girl was hot, but it was obvious that my penis was not going to be in charge this evening. I took off from that house and never called her again…She probably thinks we are still dating.
So here are some great ideas for how to scare a guy away immediately. For guys, dating is not always an easy street. Sex is not always the first thing on the guy’s mind. I’m glad this girl made it easy for me to see the crazy side of her before I jumped into a situation that would have been much more difficult to get out of.
Date carefully and take care, Dutch

The Stylist

Submitted by G.R.
I’m a believer in the power of groups, and I think the MIXTT concept is a sound one because almost all of my dating successes have stemmed from getting different groups of friends together in a casual setting where we can connect without pressure. But let it be said that the groups should not be stacked all on one side!

I was fresh off the worst disappointment ever and not really looking for a new entanglement.  I had just arrived at my friend’s birthday party, when his folks pulled me aside to announce they’d set me up. The dad was like “Have I got the girl for you!”. Stepmom added “She’s my stylist; she’s such a doll…(pause)…she’s kind of heavy, but she’s so naturally pretty – and she’s really been losing weight lately!” Oh boy. I thanked them for their efforts and got myself a martini to brace for the inevitable.

Soon after, I got pulled over to meet my alleged dream girl.  They weren’t kidding about the “kind of heavy” part. I like curves, don’t get me wrong – Kate Moss is not my ideal of femininity. But we were talking “starting offensive lineman for the Cowboys”, plus she was wearing her weight in makeup. Still, I faked all the charm I could as she started talking my head off. After a few minutes in which I’d barely gotten a word in edgewise, she asks me point blank, “So, do you want to go out on a dinner date with me?” I was dumbfounded. Not only had we had no time to establish any chemistry, but she was surrounded by her whole entourage of Gay Best Friend types. I was like “Uhh…” and the entourage started demanding, “C’mon! Aren’t you gonna say YES?”

I stammered “Sure, OK”. Real smooth.

Then the real talking started. She was going off about the rigors of being a personal stylist, and told me that without her expertise, my friend’s dad, who’s a very sharp-looking guy, would be one big mass of unibrow and nose hair. Then she started carrying on about what a great cook she was and how she’d make me the best steak I’ve ever had. She was clearly thinking about dates 3, 4, move-in, etc. I had to rescue myself.

Then she started asking me what my dream date would be like, since it was obviously about to come true. I reflected and said, “To be honest, I think dates are overrated. If you don’t skip straight to sex, what’s the point?”

Her jaw dropped and she exclaimed “I was told you were such a nice guy! I am SHOCKED!”

“Nah, I’m an unrepentant manwhore.”

“Well, which is it? Are you a nice guy or a manwhore?”

“I’m a little of both.”

“Well, I don’t play that game! I’ve had God in my life since I was 18!”

“Good for you.”

“Well, consider our date off!”

“Whew!” (I said it loud and proud, as the peanut gallery groaned in disappointment).

(The whole exchange was probably longer and more painful in reality, but that’s more or less how it went down).

Can a single guy and a single girl be just friends? What’s your take?

Can a single guy and a single girl be just friends?
( polls)

Also, here is a link to my favorite article on the subject: Can a single man and a single woman be friends without sexual tension arising?

Gangbangs, though fun, are not romantic.

Submitted by CAJ

This is a little tale that will demonstrate how fucking clueless and inept I am when it comes to men, dating, and everyday common sense. In other words, it’s no different from any of my other posts.

A boy I had met at a bar (stop judging…where else am I supposed to meet high-caliber man? my fucking “friends” aren’t doing SHIT to introduce me to people) called me and asked me out for drinks. We agreed to meet at a local wine bar for we both happen to be quintessential yuppies (yes, between 7:30 at 6, I am a real working “professional” who doesn’t use the word “fuck” in every other sentence).

So I agreed to go out with this boy, “Google Boy #1″ (I originally wanted to just go with “Google Boy,” by my foresight cautioned me that I’d better number these dorks because I’ll likely whore it up with Google to try to get a free lunch ticket to their world-renowned cafeteria). Ehhhhh…. fuck it! His real name is “Andy,” which I’m revealing because the bastard later rejected me.

When I agreed to go out with Andy, I warned him that I had already made dinner plans with some friends visiting from the UK (for I am a beloved global figure), so I’d have to call Andy afterward to figure out where to meet up.

My friends showed up at the restaurant and had brought other friends, so I was now with four black men. Unbeknownst to me at the time, 4 black men + 1 girl ==> gangbang. Or, it might lead to something like these men running a train on me. Anyhow, I was oblivious to all of this at the time and never stopped to wonder if Andy, a white, boarding-school-bred, Duke- and Cornell-educated Googler, would find it weird if I were to show up to our date with these four black men. Fuck you. Even genius must rest at some points.

So I went to the wine bar to meet Andy — with Arthur, Ole, Kole, and Ade in tow. I then witnessed the flesh of a white man somehow manage to lose even more color. Andy was both confused and scared shitless. I ignored this obvious discomfort and focused on my priority of the evening: DRINKING. So I screamed out, “Let’s drink, bitchesssssssss!”

We proceeded to guzzle a few bottles of wine together and then moved onto a nearby lounge so that we could dance the night away (no, Andy had not run home crying like a little bitch yet ). Arthur, Ole, Kole, and Ade were amazing dancers. The girls all wanted to freak with them. Andy… Andy danced like a deaf white boy, and the sad thing is, he was getting ALL into it. NO, it is NOT fucking “cute” when a guy TRIES to dance even though he can’t. It’s fucking humiliating and uncalled for. It’s the reason why I have to cram a damn straightjacket in my fucking clutch every time I take a white man to a club.

I eventually grew tired of watching Andy struggle to find the beat. A hooker would struggle less with reading An Introduction to Modern Astrophysics. So I invited him to sit down with me so that we could chat alone and get to know each other better. This is when Andy finally confessed his feelings about this first date of ours. He told me, “When you first walked in with four black guys, I was totally weirded out, but then I thought, ‘This girl must be a freak!’” And so he asked me out on another date (he would later learn the hard way just how freaky I am, but that’s a story for another day).

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. You can take a man on the world’s worst date, but if he thinks you’ll let him do anal, he’ll ask you out again.
2. Nerdy white boys are intimidated by black men, even if the black men are highly-educated and have refined British accents; therefore, do not bring such black men on your dates with nerdy white boys.
3. You should arrive at your dates alone, not with a group of men (I actually had to go back and ADD this because it completely escaped me when I first wrote this).

For a good time don’t forget to check out: www.mixtt.com

Where’d he get that cash from? He got it from his mama.

Submitted by CAJ

The one you’re about to hear is a DOOZY. It’s a prime example of why I now believe that it’s okay to ask obnoxious screening questions before committing to a first date.

I was feeling adventurous, so I agreed to have drinks after work with a quasi-cute guy who seemed pretty nice. I met him at a bar that I chose because it’s gorgeous and has an awesome happy hour deal. The awkwardness and hideousness of this tale is best expressed, I feel, in the format of a script. My date’s character shall be called “Muni,” which also happens to be the name of the San Francisco bus system. My name shall be “Alexis” in order to protect my identity and the feelings of those about whom I so honestly blog.

SCENE: The outdoor patio of a trendy bar in San Francisco.

Muni: Hi, Alexis ! Nice to see you!
Alexis: Hey, Muni! Thanks for coming all the way over here for drinks!

[Muni and Alexis sit down at a table for two, peruse the menu, and order a round or drinks.]

Alexis: So how was work today? You’re a teacher, right?
Muni: Yes, but I didn’t work today.
Alexis: Oh, really? Why not?
Muni: I’m a substitute teacher. I’m still trying to get my teaching credential.

[Alexis thinks to herself, "WTF?!?! You're 28 years old and you don't even have a full time job?!?!]

Alexis: Well, that’s great. Teaching is a really noble profession, and I know that male teachers are really in demand. So where in the city do you live?
Muni: On Street I Forgot and Street I Forgot.
Alexis: Cool! Do you have roommates or do you live alone?
Muni: I live with my parents.

[Alexis thinks to herself, "OH HELLZ TO THE NO. FUCK THIS SHIT!"]

Alexis: Ohhhhhh… COOL. So what do you do when you’re not teaching?
Muni: Ummm… I lift weights.
Alexis: Awesome. Do you like to run? I love running outside.
Muni: I can’t run because of my knees.
Alexis: Awww, that’s too bad. So what else do you like to do in your free time?
Muni: I like watching wrestling.

[The check comes, and it totals $10.]

Alexis: Do you want me to pay for half?
Muni: Yeah, that would be awesome!

[Alexis thinks to herself, "NO, he di-n't!!!" Alexis literally puts $7 on the table (to help cover the tip as well) and vows to herself that she's done with this man. Alexis DOES NOT date men who live with their MOTHERS because Alexis is not 14 years old. Alexis is a grown woman who needs to find a man who has moved out of his parents' house and who has a full-time job. Alexis decides that this date must end IMMEDIATELY.]

Alexis: Well, it was great meeting you. I have to run! I’m actually going to go catch a basketball game at [SF Bar].
Muni: Cool! That sounds like fun! I think I’ll join you! How are you getting there? Are you taking the bus?
Alexis: Yeah, I was…
Muni: Great. Let’s go.

[Alexis thinks to herself, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Alexis and Muni board a bus to the bar. The ride is painful. Alexis holds back tears as Muni tells her about how he had posted a Craigslist Missed Connection the prior week about a hot girl he had seen at the gym. Alexis and Muni arrive at the bar.]

Alexis: I’m hungry. I’m going to order nachos.
Muni: That sounds good. Can I split it with you?

[Alexis thinks, "NO! GO AWAY! I FUCKING HATE YOU!"]

Alexis: Yeah, sure!

[Hours of a basketball game pass as Alexis and Muni split nachos over very little conversation. Of course, the game goes into overtime. OF COURSE! The check comes.]

Alexis: I can get it.
Muni: Cool!
Alexis: It’s getting late. I’d better get home.
Muni: Can I walk you home?
Alexis: No, I don’t want you to know where I live.
Muni: [laughs]
Alexis: [laughs] Bye!!!

[Alexis walks home, vowing she will never date another man again. She occasionally turns around to make sure that Muni is not watching her to see where she lives. She arrives home and goes to bed, snuggled up closely to the feeling that she experiences after every date -- REGRET.]

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. Questions it’s okay to ask a man before you agree to go on a date with him: Do you have a full-time job? Do you live at home with your mother? Are you too poor to take me out on a $10 date?
2. On a bad date, NEVER tell a man you’re going somewhere afterward because you could end up going on a 6-hour date that should have ended after 30 minutes. Just say you’re going home to sleep. Even if it’s 6 PM. Fuck it! Lie! Do whatever it takes to shake him! To be extra certain he won’t try to follow you, throw in a comment about how you were totally joking about being from town and that you’re actually from Siberia but are leaving the next morning, never to return because you’re terminally ill!

A Male’s View of the Dating Scene

Submitted by SJG

Under the pretense of sharing a male’s view of the dating scene, I’ve been asked to add my voice to Check, Please. I should state here and now that I am in a great relationship – so I’m hardly qualified to write about true stories of awful dating experiences. Honestly, if you asked me about my last bad date, I’d stare at you blankly before mentioning the time I was asked into an empty stall at a DFW airport men’s bathroom by a 50 year old married doctor. Awesome.

Oh – and in high school I took a girl to see How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. I mean…fuck.

But those are in my past and I don’t cry about them any more (lie). Truth be told, I’ve had great luck on first dates (little lie). (Though, maybe we should back up and define “luck.” I don’t mean “sex.” If that’s the definition, then I’m fucking terrible at dating. For the sake of simplicity, let’s define a good first date as one where (i) a second date is mutually assumed and (ii) I avoided puking.) In my mind, a first date should be easy as long as the following criteria are met:

1. The guy is not a complete moron and does the basics right. We’ll call this the “Mother Rule.” If your mother raised you right, you do all these things without a second thought: open doors, assume you’ll pick up the check, compliment her, maintain eye contact and avoid racial slurs. The last one is pretty key.
2. You must be able to relate to each other on at least three topics. This is what makes or breaks a date. I’m convinced what we look for in a match is not just someone who we can relate to, but someone who can relate to us (and boobies). So it’s crucial to find things to talk about on the first date that can fuel conversation. The deeper and more nuanced the topic, the better. For example, discussing whether “80s Hair Metal totally paved the way for 90s Pop music,” [note: it did] is much preferable to “Unicorns? They’re fantastic!” (Actually, I take that back, the last example is an awesome and legitimate topic.)

I want to caveat one thing in point (1): guys – assume you’re going to pay. Never ask to split the bill. However, and this is where I take issue with previous posts, if a girl offers to pay her way then use your discretion whether to accept her offer. But girls, for fuck’s sake, it is damn confusing when you offer to pay and then get mad when we acquiesce. It is important to some people, women included, that they contribute financially, and it shouldn’t be up to the guy on the first date to decide which type of person you are (I mean, c’mon, we’re way too preoccupied trying not to stare at your chest and call you the name of our ex to bother trying to figure this shit out).

Assuming the above points are satisfied, a date should go fine. Sure there are things that could spoil a date (e.g., disclosing you have an STD), but nothing should be bad enough to actually spoil the date (seriously, have you seen the people on the Valtrex commercial? They’re practically fucking ecstatic to have genital herpes).

Q: What do you do if you’re on a date with a guy whom you suspect is gay?

Submitted by C.A.J.

Q: What do you do if you’re on a date with a guy whom you suspect is gay?

Disclaimer: Why are you asking ME for advice? Would you ask a hooker if she subscribes to The Economist? Oh well, f#$@ it!

Answer: DITCH HIS GAY ASS! Are you kidding me with that question?

Okay, in all seriousness, you might someday go on a date with someone whom you suspect is gay. This has happened to me on several occasions because gay men are drawn to my strong personality, impeccable style, and quick wit. Oh yeah, they like cocky b#%^@s, too.

Anyhoo, I agreed to meet this dude, let’s call him Tinkerbell (Tinks for short), at a sports bar. Do you want to know what Tinks showed up wearing? A turquoise polo shirt. I was like, are we in Nantucket? WTF?!?!

I let this slide and didn’t run out the side door because I really am trying to be more open-minded.

We then discussed our drink orders, and Tinks tells me he thinks he’s going to get a COSMO a la Sex and the City. I looked at him, waiting for him to start busting out laughing out loud. He didn’t. I kept waiting. He didn’t. My heart started racing, and I realized, this motherf@#@er is gay! Tinks is f#@ing gay! He is literally ordering a cosmo at a sports bar!

But again, I do not yet run out the door because this is the new open-minded me. Perhaps he is a secure, modern man who just enjoys cosmos! Yes, that’s it. PLEASE LET THAT BE IT.

We start talking more, and I am distracted by his voice and hand gestures. Is Tink’s voice more feminine than mine? Indeed, it is. Is he signing to me? WHAT is going on with his hands?

OMG HE IS GAY! HE IS TOTALLY GAY!

Now, I have absolutely nothing against the gays. Half of my best friends are gay, but I don’t date them. We shop together, and they tell me how fabulous I look in my Hermes scarves, but that’s it.

Anyhow, back to the story, I had to draw the line. This boy was obviously completely confused, and I am not going to be that girl who taught a man that he was actually gay. So I busted out of that bar and shouted, “Taxi!” and left his ass in the dust. And I still believe that was the mature solution.

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. If a man shows up to a date wearing a pastel shirt, pretend you didn’t see him and leave the scene immediately.
2. If he catches you trying to walk out, scream out “Keep away, gay boy!” and just start running. Don’t look back because it’ll just slow you down. I know from experience.
3. If a man drinks any of the following drinks, he is gay: cosmo, appletini, anything pink or red. Take that drink and chug it. Then leave. Apply lesson #2 if necessary.

If you withhold sex after a man cooks, YOUR ASS is fried!

Submitted by C.A.J.

Apparently, if a man cooks you dinner, he thinks that his spatula is a ticket to your vagina. I learned this the hard way during date #3 with a boy whom I shall affectionately refer to as “Dine and Dash.”

Dine and Dash invited me to his place for dinner, where we cooked an amazing dinner together. We’re not talking the amateurish spaghetti bullshit that a lot of guys cook to try to get into your pants. We’re talking steak and bacon-wrapped dates. Dine and Dash was SERIOUS.

Unfortunately for him, seeing as how this was only date #3, I was SERIOUSLY not ready to put out, so when he tried to bust out a condom on me, I hurled it across the room and laughed in his face (playfully, of course… I think). Well, apparently Dine and Dash didn’t take this too well because despite what I thought was a romantic and splendid evening, I never heard from him again.

You’re probably thinking that perhaps he dumped me for reasons other than my prudish ways. I, too, contemplated this thought for 2 milliseconds before realizing that this is not possible for I am an unbelievable catch.

[Sadly, I continue to run into Dine and Dash as he lives 4 blocks from me. I last saw him walking to a yoga class, and I immediately hid behind a car because I was wearings sweats and looking like complete ass (even I cannot look do-able at ALL times). Hopefully, someday this blog will become immensely popular and he'll read this and know exactly who he is.]

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. Don’t let a man cook you dinner until you’re ready to put out because he’ll be pissed off if he doesn’t get some after all of that work. If you do mistakenly let him cook for you when it’s too early for sex, at least give him head. Kidding. This isn’t what I did. Mom, dad, you’re not reading this, right?
2. You need to carefully define what makes a man geographically desirable. You want to be able to see him often without hauling your ass across a town, lake, or ocean. You don’t want to constantly run into him at your local library or bus stop. If you make this mistake, you will no longer be able to roam around without make-up and with your hair in a ponytail. You’ll have to wear heels even when you go to Walgreens. ARE YOU READY FOR THAT COMMITMENT?

Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Get Wasted on a Date

Submitted by CAJ
Apparently, getting hammered on a date is a no-no. I don’t know this for a fact. I’m just basing this on a pattern that I’ve noticed, which is that after I get wasted on a date, I never EVER hear from the dude again. Yet I keep fucking doing it!! I’m an idiot, I know.

So in order to try to convince myself to stop this filthy habit, I racked my brain for a list of reasons why the the drunken dates need to stop, and here are the best ones I could come up with:

• Because you slur your words and mutter incomprehensibly

• Because you spit so much when you talk that it rains on your date’s face like Hurricane Andrew

• Because when you think you’re whispering sexily into his ear you’re actually screaming like the wailing hiss of death

• Because you might trip and knock out your two front teeth (this actually happened to a dear friend of mine)

• Because you might puke out the window of the car and then fall out of the car and onto the lawn with your left breast fully exposed (this actually happened to me)

• Because it’s hard to tell whether you’ve had consensual sex or were date raped

Pretty good reasons, eh? I think I’m convinced!! Let the near-sober dating begin!!!

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. Don’t get sloshed because the above listed items will happen.
2. Don’t black out in bed next to a man you don’t trust. Wait, back up. Don’t get wasted with a man you don’t trust because he might end up next to you in bed as you are blacked out. I know, I know. I, too, enjoy convincing myself that the hot ones ARE TRUSTWORTHY and only have my best interests at heart, just like the nerdy-looking, Stanford-educated ones, but really, this is not the case. The hotter they are, the more likely it is they’ll stick it in when (or WHERE) you least expect it.

For a good time don’t forget to check out MIXTT.com.