Dear Men, Learn to Ask a Girl Out Correctly or Fuck Off!



“Take the train and come to Long Island,” he texts.

It’s 8:30 PM on a Saturday night.  I am in my pajamas with an egg roll in one hand the clicker in the other, having a full fledged Chinese food and Netflix binge.

The person who sent the above text – I have never met. We have had several phone conversations in the past couple weeks and that’s it.

I have made it clear in the past that I would love to meet, and that the next time he is in the city – he should call me and we can meet for a drink.



That text doesn’t even warrant a response at that time. And so I continued chomping on the greasy egg roll and then on to the chow fun.

The next morning I send him a text simply stating, “let’s have a drink the next time you are in my neck of the woods.”

Between the Netflix episodes when you have 17, 16, 15 seconds till the next episode begins, I couldn’t help think about the mind set of a guy who sends a girl he has never met the above text.

At best it is a an innocent impulsive text.

But since I did not fall off the turnip truck yesterday, I know that it is unlikely that this was an innocent text.

First of all it is highly presumptive to expect to meet someone on a Saturday night with zero notice. And, if I had fallen on my head reaching for the chopsticks and knocked all the sense out of my head and I did decide to meet him – it would mean that I would be dressed earliest by 9 PM.  Then I would drag my ass to Penn Station, look for the right train to Long Island and arrive to meet a total stranger at 11 PM!

Yah. That’s gonna happen when hell freezes over and all the devils go ice skating!

I wondered how many other girls he had sent the same text to and how many, if any couldn’t resist the most irresistible offer.

The final nail in the coffin of this clueless guy came last Sunday, a couple weeks after the Saturday invite.

“What are you doing? I miss you. But am so busy 😦 ”

“I am upstate with my friends.”

“Are we ever gonna meet? You are always so busy.”


“Lol,” is his lame reply.

“Your best offer thus far has been asking me to take a train in the middle of the night.  Very gentlemanly.”

“Okay, keep next Sunday for us.”

“Laters,” I text back. What I am really saying is, ‘I won’t hold my breath.’

I am writing this on Saturday afternoon. Tomorrow is our date which he will be going on alone or with another girl who is not me.

I have created a very simple set of rules for myself:

If you are not grown up enough to ask a girl out in a proper manner, it’s not gonna happen.

If you are too busy to get in touch especially to do the above, then I am not the girl for you.

Until I date again!




Learning to be Still with Myself

The following words may appear contradictory to some after my last post.

I disagree.

I believe I should take a sabbatical from dating sites. It’s getting to be too much.

Since I am enjoying my new phrase-‘looking for someone to be still with,’ I think I will start with myself.

Lots is happening and I need to focus on other aspects of my life which are far more pressing.

Have I given up?

Not in the least.

If a boy comes along – a boy comes along.

But for now I focus on me, myself and I.

And in the meantime, I am just going to be still with myself.

Until I date again!

Where I Conduct an Unscientific Experiment of Appearance

Some posts are just so hard to complete. I walk around for days or weeks with an unfinished post – a few sentences or thoughts here and there – on my phone, in a notebook, or saved as a draft on my blog.

Perhaps because certain topics are too complex or vast, while others are thoughts that are not fully formed in my head yet.


In the spirit of simplifying matters.

I want to conduct an unscientific experiment. The above is a wig. Yes it is.

I would like to see if I am treated any differently if I am out at a bar, lets say – wearing this wig. Also, do I feel differently?

Let’s see.

I intend to take it for a test drive this weekend and see what transpires.

I have some hypotheses which I shall share will you when I share the results of my experiment with you.

Until then, if you are inspired to share how important you think appearance is when choosing a mate … I would love to hear.

Until I date again!


Another One Bites The Dust

Aaaah Paris in July.

Probably my last post on Paris guy, unless of course I hear from him again.

So I told him to fuck off after another round of bullshit texts where he accuses me of expecting a certain answer, taking umbrage when I don’t get it. Blah blah and more blah.

Yes yes I know. Why do I even bother?

Because I am a student of human psychology and find certain behaviors intriguing.

If you have been following Paris guy saga, you know that I had no interest in him except to see this thing through and see what was the end game with this pompous ass of a guy.

Well, the experiment is now over since I told him to fuck off. Maybe I shouldn’t text before I am adequately caffeinated.

Que sera sera …

Until I date again!

An alternate way of using dating apps

An alternate use of dating apps such as tinder and bumble, I have realized is making friends. Where else can you swipe right on a photo, the other person does the same and voila you have a friend. Conceivably. Not always. But often. I like that. It’s hard to meet people as an adult and when you meet someone randomly and become friends – well that’s a boon. 

This happened to me recently. I even wrote about him in a previous post. 
After deciding that we could remain friends even though we weren’t a romantic match, lit really happened. We have since been out half a dozen times, text everyday and talk nearly every day too. 

This is so much better than having a half assed one night stand which are inevitably unsatisfactory to me. A friendship can potentially last for a long time if not forever. 

This paradigm shift in my head is exciting and empowering. Using dating apps to make new friends. 

What do you think? Like the idea? Had a similar experience?
Until I date again!

Because I don’t care any more 

Me kissing yo ass goodbye 

I wrote a post about how I went on a date and came back with a best friend. He was my friend for four years. A dear dear friend. 

Well, it didn’t end well. After I wrote the piece and before I published it, I sent it to his girl friend and told her of my intent. She read it and said it was fine. There was nothing in there that she didn’t already know. I published it and my friend freaked out. 

‘It was not your story to tell,” he said. 

“Really? It happened to me and so it’s my story.”

“No. Take it off. And you showed it to my girl friend. You never think, do you?”

“Maybe sometimes I don’t think but in this case I did and so I shared it with her. If anyone should be upset in this scenario, it should be her and she wasn’t. And so…”

There was some more exchanges along this line, via text and i stopped answering. We were repeating ourselves and going in circles. I thought we shall go into our corners, cool down and things will be back to normal soon enough. 

I had no intention of removing the post but I also did not do this to get a rise out of him. This was a unique thing that had happened to me- that I would end up making such a beautiful friendship with someone on a dating site and so I wrote about it. I was always amused and thankful for the serendipity of the events that made us BFFs. 

I am often wrong. In this case I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

A couple of weeks went by with no communication from either one of us. One day I got a text from him about something random. I thought it was his way of telling me we could now move on from the incident. 

I responded in kind and told him I missed him, then asked him how he had been. 

Little did I know that I had received a mass text and didn’t hear back from him. 

A couple more weeks went by and I wrote him an email. I repeated to him that I didn’t write the post about us to get him upset. Moreover, there was nothing in there that was untrue or derogatory towards him. I also never identified him. The only people who would know it’s him already knew the story. I continued that he was very dear to me. He had been there for me and that I missed him immensely. 

Not even a second after I hit send I got a response. 

Wanna know what it was?

It took my breath away. 

It shocked me. 

It hurt me. 

I realized I was so wrong. Not about what I did but what I thought I meant to this person. 

The answer my friends, was instant, succinct and shut me up forever. 

“Fuck off,” he wrote. 

That was that. I was dumbfounded. It broke my heart. I said nothing. 

I retreated. I did exactly what he said. 

I fucked off. 

Until I date again!

I Am a Grown Ass Man but am Afraid to Talk to you on the Phone

Either I am the most patient person, a person who has too much time on her hands or someone who goes the distance for a story.

Depending on the day and who you ask – all three may be true.

Remember the Paris guy? A reminder:

We have been talking – which really means texting for the past 3 weeks or so. He comes back to New York in a week. I now feel that I have invested so much time with him, that I have to see it through till I see him in person.

Even though my patience is wearing extremely thin and on more than one occasion I have wanted to say Fuck it – he is so not worth it. I know at best this will be a friendship and nothing more than that.

On the average day he will text me in the morning and it is clear that he just wants to text because he has nothing better to do at that moment. If I have time, I will text back. The communication hasn’t been fulfilling at all. He mostly wants to talk about what he wants to talk about and can go off on tirades with the smallest or almost no encouragement from me.

I feel like he thinks he is a professor and is talking down to me.

This morning wasn’t good at all (but hey, I got a post out of it – so it wasn’t all bad).

He is taking baking classes in Paris and told me he made croissants in class. I asked if they made puff pastry from scratch. He took this to be the opportunity to tell me that puff pastry isn’t even a thing. And it’s a manufactured thing.  What one makes croissants with is dough with butter.



I only went to a French cooking school myself and now actually train others to becomes chefs. But what would I know.

“I don’t care I said. And I am cranky today,” I texted back.

At first he took the right approach and told me that we should talk when I feel better.

But no, we can’t stop there – can we.  That would just be too simple.

He is in white and I am green.

There are some texts I am not even bothering to include in here.

You may think I am crazy and you wouldn’t be wrong for even dealing with this man at all!

I am gong to hold on for the next week. When he comes to New York, I shall meet him and report back.

Unless of course he reads my blog and is conducting an experiment of his own 🙂 then we are surely out of luck.

Until I date again!