Hey Guys, Keep It Classy

Guys, when you are on a first date, these are the dumb ways you give away to your date that you watch lots of Internet p0*n. You:

• Rate women on a numeric scale from 1 to 10.
• Ask if we shave, and regardless of our reply tell us in detail about the amount and styling of hair you find acceptable.
• Declare that you hate and will never, ever use condoms, that you can't use condoms, they're really uncomfortable, etc.
• Have only one erogenous zone, and believe that women have only two.
• Never read books or magazines (We know that is because you spend all your leisure time watching Internet p0*n.).
• Complain that your PC runs really, really slowly (We know that's because your PC is full of malware and viruses from Internet p0*n sites.).
• Declare, and illustrate with finger-in-mouth gesture, that romantic comedies make you sick.
• Openly and shamelessly tell us, "I'm a single guy, so I watch p0*n, okay?" (If we watched p0*n to get our ya-yas, we would have class enough to keep it a deep dark secret, especially on a first date.)
• Ask if we squirt.
• Proudly announce that you do not own a suit. (We know that's because instead of going to weddings and funerals you stay home and watch Internet p0*n.)
• You took guitar or sitar lessons for a while, but not any more (because all your time is taken up).
• Ask when we were last tested for STDs. If we ask you, your answer is always "I know I'm all right."

How Do You Mend?

Match dating situations 1, 2, 3, and 4 with the correct responses (A, B, C, or D).

#1: After two dates and making a third date, for trout fishing, text arrives from #1 cancelling, saying he thought he could handle two relationships at once but he felt so guilty and needed time to straighten things out with his long-distance girlfriend of three years, whom he sees only on weekends, but I was so interesting and attractive that if he did break up with her, could he call me?

#2: Charming, cosmopolitan date so mutually thrilling that two days later we meet again at a cafe, where he delivers, out of the blue, a most cynical two-hour harangue on politics city, state, national, and global, with a preview of the coming apocalypse. After several courteous and failed attempts to change the subject or get a word in, I openly showed boredom, but it was as if I were not there. Realizing that I would honestly prefer to be having coffee with Todd Aiken, I say a polite goodbye. Text arrives that evening asking do I like him, and apologizing that he sometimes talks too much, and he is such a progressive that some people are not used to it.

#3: Scientific type agrees to meet. The day before, I email him to confirm. He replies he can't make it, is too busy with work, and will call "in a couple of weeks."

#4: World-class tightwad, age 68, who brings me an empty wine bottle because it's pretty, is plainly told that we can be friends but no more than that. This sets him on fire, not to go out on actual dates, but to take long hikes together and send me late-night drunken texts. As a friend, I accompany him to his colonoscopy, and when he awakens he warns me that he is naked beneath his gown and I am not to peek.

A. F--- you.
B. F--- off.
C. ROTFLOL
D. All of the above.

Venus Retrograde

A little bit of grief this spring over a relationship that was long-term and long-distance. After two years and ten months of being together, I totally faithful and trusting the man completely up until the last few months when I got mildly suspicious, he admitted he was seeing a married woman, and another woman, and maybe yet even another one (he knows how to seduce the lonely ones), and offered me a deal: We could keep seeing each other just as we had been, maybe a little less often, like every five to seven weeks. Translation: I could stay on his string. "I've never thought that love was finite," he said, not realizing that what he'd just offered me was very finite indeed.

The torch in my heart flamed out instantly. I was calm and composed. I said, "I'm so disappointed in you." I asked him what if I'd been messing with other men. He declared he'd be happy for me.

No normal man thinks that way. And anyone involved in adultery isn't very smart. If that was his chosen relationship I had no choice but to leave him.

He'd given me his mother's brooch, an amethyst surrounded by beads of millefiori glass. It was an unusual costume piece and went with everything. Unfortunately I never photographed it. I wore it near my heart as an emblem of love. I was wearing it and removed it and handed it to him, saying, "Give this to someone you love."

"I did!" he said. But his definition of love wasn't mine. I like honesty.

I wished I did not have to, but I packed up and walked out into the night and got into my car for the two-and-a-half-hour drive home. He was upset. He wanted me to stay. We could have dinner or something. I said, "Only a foolish woman would stay."And I stand by that. I drew the line. It feels much better to be the dumper than the dumpee.

In the future I will trust less, and will love less deeply. And that's what I've got to say about the planet Venus going retrograde on Tuesday.

Midwestern First-Date Advice

A third drink before dinner shows a lack of respect for oneself AND one's date. At such piggish behavior, put $10 on the table and leave.

Men, don’t wear sandals. Midwestern men have notoriously scary feet.

Men, dive for the check and refuse to let the woman pay. Since you’ve just met, the woman has no other way of telling whether you valued her time and company. (No Midwesternista is a feminist on the first date.)

Women, carry enough cash to pay the check in case he “forgot his wallet.”

Don't wrap up the catfish bones to take home to your cats.

There’s no turnoff like a dinner date who explains that he can’t walk very well right now because a thousand-pound hay bale fell on him.

Women, cleavage shouldn’t look like tonnage.

Something bigger than a breadbox in a car’s back seat – a cooler, pet carrier, cardboard file-boxes, child seat, tools, fishing gear -- shows that there's something in your date’s life that’s far more important than you’ll ever be.