When I started with Laurie Davis, she asked me who my cookie cutter woman was. What was she like? I rattled off a bit of superficial checklist items, she had to be tall, had to be into sports, and so on. My dream woman was the love child of Angelina Jolie, Megan Fox, Brooklyn Decker and Lucy Lu. This woman exists in two places, my dreams and fantasies.

The perfect man doesn’t exist. No one person is perfect. It’s evident by the many single women who seek for their perfect guy only to find him and realize that something isn’t right. Someone once told me she kept dating musicians, and after several failed relationships, decided to date non-artists. She’s currently single and unhappy, because she only changed what the guy did as a requirement, instead of the type of guy.

While single, I was often asked why I didn’t have someone. Some of the reasoning, I’ve explained it to be a problem with the type of women I was seeking. However, it’s not all me. Especially online, women filter their preference of men along very narrow guidelines. Height, for an example, is one such requirement. Having to be over 5’7″ to be dateable is the silliest thing I’ve heard women use. They fell it’s too awkward dating a shorter man. Do they ever think how awkward it may be dating a shorter woman?

Women will seldom get their gingerbread man as they think of him. Like gingerbread man, there are many variations are just as delicious, if not better tasting, but use different recipes. If the gingerbread man your eating keeps making you sick, why not try a different type?

Photo by dichohecho

How many times have you sacrificed yourself for someone else? Sometimes it’s rewarding, especially when the other person appreciates it. You performed a favor for them. Maybe they were a friend, family member, someone who appreciates you, your time, and appreciates what you’re doing for them. Sacrificing your time for a loved one and for a person is usually worth the effort and it strengthens the relationship. We don’t consider these sacrifices, more as favors, or something to do. Taking a Saturday afternoon off to have coffee with a friend to discuss a problem or to catch up is a sacrifice in time, but usually not seen as one if the two people are willing.

What about someone you’re dating, especially for the first time?

Over the past few months, I’ve been engaged in a series of e-mails with several women surrounding their dating lives. In most of their cases I’ve found a common thread, they’ve sacrificed themselves for a guy, but has been burned. The way they went about this sacrifice are all very different, but at the end they fell spurned and are upset about the results. Most of these guys were short-term relationships and no longer than two and a half months. What occurred in this time was the guy became the source of their happiness. He was the reason they were happy, without him, they’ve seemed to become bitter, upset and angry not just at him, but other men.

This happens to everyone, both guys and girls. We met someone new, fall heads over heels for that person, and suddenly life is grand. As if our life is suddenly justified by their existence in our life. What happened to us? Our lives? We were not happy before we met this person?

I’ve in the past made this mistake, it’s in part why I took the abuse of Invisible Woman and engaged in so many long distance relationships. I wasn’t able to find my happiness in person, so I found it somewhere else. Online. Somewhere along the line I wasn’t happy with myself. I had to work on my flaws, my issues, but was stubborn to acknowledge them. There was a period of my life, especially my dating life, where I blamed everyone for my mistakes, but never took the personal responsibility. Women never approach men in droves (unless your famous) but in my mind I assumed they would.

My friends, who have a successful dating life, tend to also be very happy with themselves. They usually have an active social life with friends or family, work on the issues they have, and don’t rely on any particular person or thing as a source of happiness. They maintain a certain perspective, one that places their wants, wishes, and goals first, and only sacrifice themselves for others when they want and are able to do so without harm.

Dating must be approached the same way. Sometimes sacrifices are worth it, other times they are not. Like performing a favor for a friend, determine if a certain sacrifice while dating is truly worth the effort.

If not, put that effort into yourself.

Image Source: Beate Catharina in Wavria on Flickr

1. Think Five Minutes Early – In New York our clocks are always 12 minutes ahead (or 4 minutes behind). Someone once told me, if I was five minutes late, then why didn’t I leave the house five minutes earlier? The point is, think five minutes ahead of time. If you have a date planned for 2, it’s really planned at 1:55. You’re late if you make it at 2.
2. Communicate At Least An Hour Ahead – You generally know, an hour ahead, that you may be running late. It’s best to tell your date that you’ll be running behind. I recommend at least an hour head start. Make sure they know, or else they will think you’ve ditched them.
3. Don’t Plan Around a Hectic Schedule – Sometimes I want to fit dates and events into a tight schedule. This never works for me. One event usually spills over into another one and I usually end up running late to everything. Give yourself a breather between events, maybe an hour or two hour buffer.
4. Plan Your Wardrobe Ahead of Time – I recently went on a date, where I was late because I forgot my wallet at home. I had to run back home, grab my wallet, and run to the train station. My mistake was not laying out my wardrobe ahead of time.
5. Become Familiar With The Area – Getting lost sucks. It’s a horrible feeling, and its even worse when you’re lost in an area you don’t know. Either plan dates in the area that you’re comfortable with or visit the area beforehand and get a feel for the ins and outs. Pay special attention to the time it takes you to walk from the train, parking garage or bust stop to the location of the date.

Image Source: sunnyUK on Flickr

My new year started with a great set of dating advice, while a funk band played in the background at Brooklyn Bowl. “You know she’s worth the time if honking her boob makes her laugh after a few dates,” my friend said.

“So, do you just reach out and honk it?” I replied.

“You should have at least made it to second base before you do.”

“So date two, touch a boob. Date three, honk it! Gotcha!”

If you follow this bit of advice and have found yourself the recipient of a slap, punch, uncontrollable screaming, or currently in jail, you’ve clearly missed the sarcasm. Do not honk a girls boob on the third date. Don’t do it on the fifth date! This bit of “advice” does remind me of the really bad advice guys are generally given and repeat consistently to meet girls. Not to burst your bubble, but porn, and American Pie isn’t the best source of dating advice.

On Leftos, there’s this great post about the things guys have learned from mainstream porn. Read, laugh, and move on. Other bad advice includes the need to show off their parts to women and have half naked profiles on dating websites. None of this attracts a woman. Guys are the ones who look at a girls boobs and want to date her, women don’t look at our junk and want to take us home. More of the common bad advice comes from The Game and pick up artists. Nothing against the scene, what they do seems to work, but you don’t have to wear silly hats and goggles to get a date. You’ll meet women, but not quality women.

Most of my dating successes have come when I was acting as myself, one date (XPG) told me she went out with me because I was the most sane response she received. Women laugh at the guys who send them naked pictures when they’ve just met them. Smart, intelligent women joke at the games that pick up artists use to lure women. In the sea of bad advice, guys are given some of the worse, because it piles on top of the existing bad advice we’re already have.

What lures women is confidence and the type of person we are. The more confident you are, the better your chances.

Image Source: Rubbertoe on Flickr

I went to OnSpeedDating’s size matters event last night. It was a speed dating event for tall men and women. Overall, the event was enjoyable (more thoughts on this in a later post.) Speed dating can be very honest, a type of honesty that you’re not ready for. While there were some potential dates, I’m positive I struck out with all of them. It’s like my current luck with OkCupid, plenty of swinging and plenty of missing. It was an experience to try, something different, and something I could learn from. All was going fairly well at this point.

Then last nights humiliating experience smacked me in the face. It made me rethink the entire evening, consider the things I could have done differently and the flaws and mistakes I could have remedied. The more I thought, the more frustrated I became. I kept replaying some moments over in my head. PUA’s have a term for what I was turning into, they call it them an Average Frustrated Chump or AFC. This is a person who looses their cool, their demeanor in the face of dating adversity. I was an AFC.

I was told of a Meatup, a singles event where the point was to meet sexy singles. It was a hookup event, a singles night where you could find a potential short term date. It was 10 and I was an hour away from the event, which ends at 2. The sane portion of my brain told me to go home, lick my wounds, try another day. The frustrated, angry, upset portion of my brain told me to go to the Meatup and try my luck there.

It’s 11, I’m withdrawing what ever little money I have left in my account to attend this event. $15 at the door, $6, for a drink, $1 tip, and $4 for a hot dog. I convinced myself this would be a worthwhile investment. That I would be able to approach women and find a date, at least someone to cuddle. I told myself, I would walk into the room and women would fall all over me. I wasn’t living in reality.

I didn’t last long at all. I didn’t attempt to talk to anyone. I did a round of the place, and when I had my opportunity, I locked up. Made another attempt and found a lame excuse to not approach. I got disgruntled when I saw groups of couples engaged in make out sessions. I was going about this the wrong way.

When I left, there were two girls in front of me, walking to the train station. I caught up with them and made one last attempt to meet someone for the evening. These were the wrong type of women to try to pick up when in an alcohol fused, frustrated, angry state of mind. These women were the entitled, immature, “I’m better than you” type who trying to blow me off, but I wasn’t giving them a chance. I’ve had enough of this type of woman for the night, and I was trying to make a point. As if I was trying to tell every woman whose ever blown me off, “I’m a great catch!” I managed to wrestle a name from them, how their night went, why there were leaving. This also ended in laughter, one of them snorted while she laughed. My evening was ending in laughter, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t directed at me.

I could have handled last night differently. If I did, wouldn’t have missed breakfast this morning, be late for work, or continue my frustration that has lingered throughout the day. Some of this I’ve tried to turn into motivation, the rest still stings. I need to find better ways to handle this frustration.

This story begins at my favorite bar where I choose to enjoy an afterwork, happy hour drink. When I arrived, I sat close to an attractive woman in an Bollywood styled outfit. Moments later we were discussing our jobs, life and pets. She made it clear her love for her dog and began to confide other personal information. She was a widow of 10 years and had been asked to marry an additional eight times. Each man was turned down and the engagement rings were kept. She joked she could make a display of the 9 rings; she never did. Despite the bright red flags and warning signs, I obtained her number and watched her leave the bar, thinking I would see her in a day or two. I wasn’t ready for what would happen next.

Dog Lady was an attractive woman in her early thirties from an European country. She enjoyed art, was very intelligent, enjoyed some of the ‘finer’ things in life, and spoke 4 or 5 different languages. She was classy, whimsical, and strong. While proud of my “achievement”, I remained at the bar, turning my after-work drink into a“watch the game” drink. I was surprised to see her re-enter the bar, an hour and a half later. This time she was accompanied by her dog. I’ve never met such a ugly, short, and cute dog in my life. It was a excitable pug with a horrible underbite. She was taking the dog for a walk, decided to stop into the bar (her apartment was close to the bar) and upon leaving motioned for me to join. Moments later we were groping each other in the evening shadows, only to part ways at the doorstep of her apartment building. When I returned to my seat, I was immediately warned about by my fellow bar brethren. This woman got around, often.

This warning I should have heeded.

A few days later we had our “first-date”, a bar in midtown where her friend was the bartender. We talked, enjoyed ourselves while the bartender poked fun at us. After grilling me a bit, the bartender deemed I was a sensible and good guy. As the evening progressed some of her other friends arrived and immediately put me through the ringer, also determining I was a sensible guy. As a gentleman I offered them my seat to them (one was handicapped), engaged in conversation and was friendly. It seemed I was doing well, but somehow made my date jealous. When we left the bar, an argument ensued. She assumed I was hitting on her friends, I thought she had drunk too much. Chalking her overreaction to alcohol, I took her back to her apartment and scurried home. I did not realize then this incident would become a reoccurring theme.

Our following dates revolved around walking her dog and public gropings. Some of these walks were followed with visits to her studio apartment where half-naked dry sex would occur. During the third week of dating, she wanted to have sex with me, thus prompting a Sex Date. We would go out for drinks with every intention to go back to her apartment, and let the night continue. The first part of the date was going well but it was interrupted by a family emergency. Her father had passed out and was being transferred to the ER. It was clear I wasn’t getting laid tonight. Looking back at the events, this was a sign from God. While a part of me was disappointed, there were bigger issues to handle. I had to suck up and act as a gentleman by accompanying her to the hospital. It’s odd meeting your dates father in an ER bed, especially when he suffers from poor English. I managed to put my best supportive face on and and remained until they both decided I should go home. The next day she apologized profusely and we scheduled another date. I learned the trip to the hospital was from her father drinking too much. He was doing better and resting.

The next date was another dog walking groping date, but turned into a defining moment when she said, “I want to get married in 6 months.” Sane people do not get married after 3 weeks of dating and a handful of dry sex. Maybe in Vegas. This wasn’t going to happen. When I explained to her that I wasn’t ready (I was 26 at the time), but wasn’t afraid of commitment and willing to seek a long term relationship with her, she turned into a hysterical mess. This date was a failure and I knew this would only get worse. I should have left her to cry and sob, walking away from the entire situation. I did not, and accepted her excuse of excess alcohol and her father’s situation for the hysteria.

I had an opportunity to run away. I should have. I did not.

A few days later, I met one of my best friends for an evening of bar hopping and drinks, detailing my current dating situation. We laughed over it, but was warned that I was thinking with my penis instead of my head. During our evening long bar-scapade, we began to walk down the same street of Dog Lady’s apartment and coincidentally bumped into her as she was arriving home from a work dinner. I introduced my friend and the three of us went to my favorite bar for drinks. Dog Lady began to make very awkward comments about the attractiveness of my friend, to the point of my annoyance and her jealously. She began asking questions about our history, how long we’ve known each other, and if we’ve ever slept with one another. She could not understand our platonic friendship and believed platonic relationships did not exist.

The situation continued to deteriorate. When my friend excused her self for a smoke or the bathroom, Dog Lady claimed my friend was distraught and that I should be dating her instead. I’ve seen this pattern before and began to get upset. The tension was palpable and my friend decided it was time to depart, leaving me with my jealous, overreacting, impromptu date. We argued a bit until she said, “Do you want to fuck me tonight?” Asking a guy if he wants to have sex is like asking him if he wants a a million dollars. The answer is usually “yes.” We went to her apartment were the situation only worsened.

I’ve had bad sex before, but she was was the worst. First she wanted rough sex and wanted me to do all of the work, her exact words were “I want you to rape me.” I’m not very comfortable with this sort of rough sex, and after negotiating, and began the horrible process. She laid there like a dead fish, not moving or helping me at all. Next, her dog wanted to participate. She lived in a studio which made it easy for my leg to be humped by her dog. He really enjoyed my leg. I did not enjoy him on my leg. Third, she didn’t help me at all. Men sometimes have trouble positioning themselves, women should guide the guy when he’s struggling. She did not. Lastly, she used teeth while performing oral sex. Yes, teeth, and a lot of teeth. BAD TEETH! It was painful.

During this horrid sex act, she found the opportunity to have two orgasms. I did not have one. Every inch of my body wanted to run away, but I was tired decided to fall asleep, hoping the next day would be better. It wasn’t. It was greeted with her calling me different guy names followed by tonguing her dog over my naked body.

Now I really understood how much she loved her dog.

Image Credit: wYnand! on Flickr

I really have underestimated Ex-Party Girl (XPG), she’s slowly becoming more than I thought she would, but quickly becoming a friend. Yes, she’s entering my friend zone. The third date is usually the do or die date, where a kiss or something would happen. It didn’t happen on my 3rd Date (or if you’re counting the 2nd real date.) I called the dating coach for some pre-date advice and understood what I had to do, this time I had to be flirty and see how she react to it. However we ended up doing the same thing we’ve done on the past two dates and that’s talk and ask each other questions.

We went to a bar, we’re both familiar with and had drinks on their couches. You would think the kissing would ensue. It did not. There was more talking, more joking. I took initiative to touch her, placing my hand on her leg, leaning into her. I would playfully slap her on her arm with the back of my hand, but she would return the playful slap. A 5 minute playful slapping contest ensued, but it also brought out laughter and giggles. In the past this has worked to break up some tension, it even lead to a make out session. This time, no such luck. Throughout the evening, with all of the touching, she would lean in, then pull back. It was a weird dance, a very uncomfortable dance.

The uncomfortable dance got even more uncomfortable when one of my old time female friends appeared. I’ve known her since middle school and every so often she pops into my life. Never has she popped into my life on a date. I may have overreacted when I saw her (think shrieking high school girl.) There’s also a tiny bit of history between us, good history. Maybe it was a sign that XPG isn’t the one and I need to think of her more as a friend.

It’s that thought that’s what tripping me up now and it’s getting clearer every time we date. We’re still poking and prodding at each other, almost as if both of us are scared to make a move. I’m not all that inclined to make one, she’s a really cool girl and I’m becoming “comfortable” with her. Hence why she’s falling into my friend zone. My instincts are telling me while I think she’s cute, the more I get to meet her, the more I like her opposed to smitten with her. What’s fucking with me is the fact that she’s in the very same position (I think).

Update 2:13pm: One thing I forgot to mention, that got asked on Twitter. I did try to kiss her at the end of the date, but ended up with cheek. In my mind I was thinking about kissing her, but someone turned, and cheeks her landed upon. This was, however, the first kiss of any kind between the both of us.

If, by the process of elimination, I’m correcting the reasons I’m single (clothing, profile, ways to approach women) and I’m still maintaining similar results, then the problem must be me. I think I’m approaching the wrong type of woman, more importantly, I think I’m taking the wrong approach. It’s an approach that dooms us men! Many men fail because we seek the unattainable. We tend to spend more time approaching super hot women than average ones regardless of our own looks (not to say I’m not cute!). Can you blame us? The problem here is that we aren’t honest with ourselves, and not honest with the type of woman we can attract. We all think we can attract the super model woman without changing anything about us. If woman’s flaw is being too picky, men’s flaws are being delusional.

Not every guy can get every girl (man does that hurt the male ego when you hear it.) It’s my biggest problem, one I’m going to have to work on to get more quality women.

When I say women should look outside of their dating preferences and date different type of men, I’m talking as both a guy scorned and as someone who makes the very same mistake. My online dating mistake, one eFlirt expert has called me out on, is seeking too many A Listers. I’m sending way too many messages to my top list while ignoring my B and C Lists. Why is this a mistake? Because I’m pigeon holding myself to one type of girl. That never works!

One friend told me women know fairly early if they are attracted to a guy. Several responses on twitter about my listing idea leads me to believe women have a yes/no policy to dating. Either they will date you or not. Generally, women who appear on our A Lists have several thousand guys trying to get into their pants on a daily basis. We shouldn’t expect them to respond, more than likely they will not. By sending messages to my A List exclusively, I’m asking to get rejected, instead of having success with wonderful women on my B and C Lists. I KNOW I need to diversity in reaching out to potential dates by sending messages to all types of women, but some days I struggle following my own damn advice.

In order to find the right woman, I’m need to date plenty of other women. The perfect woman isn’t going to fall out of the sky, land in my lap and fall instantly in love with me. I need to maintain some perspective when it comes to online dating. That’s where the real valuable women lie.

(Image Credit: Free and happy on Flickr)

There’s a general rule to dating: if a person looks at you more than twice, they’re interested. For a period of time, all of my dating failures made me timid about approaching women at bars, clubs, or in general. I began to think in the terms of failures instead of potential. While out with friends, my timidness ran into someone who was very interested. Let’s call her Hot and Direct.

Hot and Direct kept glancing at me throughout the evening, she was with her group of friends, I was with mine and did not know how to approach her. I was scared. My friends also noticed her watching me and began to add some peer-pressure. Their ultimatum was, I introduce myself or they would do it for me. This was turning into a bad episode of 90210. With enough peer-pressure and courage, I approached Hot and Direct, breaking every “pickup” rule. I introduced myself name first, and began to roll from there. I’m sure for many guys, this would be a guaranteed success. There wouldn’t be any possible way I could mess this up. My readers, you don’t know me too well; I find new ways to turn opportunities into missed opportunities.

The first mistake I made was answering questions with questions. When I was asked how old I was, I asked “Well how old do you think I am?” I was trying to be playful, mysterious. I quickly found out this girl wasn’t in the mood to play those games. The “games” I’ve just finished learning from a certain book. I was able to redeem myself, first by apologizing and second by buying her a drink.  This bought time to prove myself. The next few moments went extremely well, she was very direct with some of her questions: Was I straight? Was I single? If I’m big? I can handle woman whose very direct, if anything I prefer it. It felt comfortable answering each question honestly and directly without worrying about not being myself. I was comfortable.

I tend to be a very honest person and tend to be very blunt and direct. So in the line of questioning Hot and Direct was asking was easily answered and placed her more at ease. The tides turned on me. Hot and Direct pointed another woman in the room and said “She’s really beautiful! What do you think?” The woman was an attractive woman and I answered “She’s really cute!” Have you ever seen the expression of a golfer when he misses a putt two feet away from the hole? The expression of a wide receiver who drops a football when he’s wide open? A basketball player who misses a dunk? That expression was plastered all over my face. One of the most important rules about courtship is to not acknowledge other girls. When asked about another girl in the room, IGNORE them. This is a trap! One I fell right into.

Needless to say things went downhill from there. I tried to recover what ever momentum I had lost, but it wasn’t going to happen. The only Hot and Direct thing I would be dealing with that night would be the porn I would be watching later.

(Image Credit: OGA from Flickr)