Tag Archives: dating

Online Dating Deal Breakers.

Remember when my hero Liz Lemon wrote her successful book, DealBreakers? She helped inspire me to come up with the Top 5 Online Dating dealbreakers:

5) If he’s doing the MySpace pose. He’s holding a camera to the mirror and taking a pic of himself. This is alarming because:

  • He looks idiotic.
  • He may not have any friends that can take a picture of him.
  • He might still be using MySpace.

If you are not sure what I am speaking of, please review the following MySpace mirror shot.

4) Multiple spelling and grammar mistakes. Fine, I’m a bit of a spelling Nazi, but the way I see it – you have this one online dating profile to impress people and you can’t bother to use the free spell check in the Firefox browser? That screams lazy and stupid.

3) Holding a child does not give you brownie points with the ladies; it makes you look like you have kids (a dealbreaker for some ladies, yes), or that you are just that creep who uses cute objects (baby, dog, monkey) to catch the attention of women.

2) If he doesn’t have any photos, it means he’s too lazy to complete his profile and no girl wants a lazy boy. It could also mean he’s hideous. In both cases, I say Dealbreaker.

1) If he starts his profile with any of the following clichés “I thought I’d never try online dating, but LA is so hard to meet people, here I am!”, “I’m looking for a fun girl but no commitments” (okay, appreciate the honesty, but not a good first-liner), or “I’m a fun-loving guy who loves the outdoors, hanging out with friends, and am happy grabbing a drink out or watching a great movie with a glass of wine at home for the night.” Hey Mr. Originality, 99% of people in LA love the outdoors, have friends they generally like to be in the company of, and go to bars but – gasp! – also are content to sit at home with a bottle of wine and “Serendipity”. Dealbreakers all around!

The Nice Guys.

I realize and recognize that I spend a lot of time on this blog talking about the many, many (too many?) douchebags I’ve dated and been subjected to in Los Angeles. Now let’s take a second to reflect on their brothers on the complete opposite side of the dating spectrum: the Nice Guys.

Nice guys are not urban legends. They are indeed walking among us every day (or in LA’s case…driving in the car next to yours). We just may not notice them because they are not as aggressive or as loud as their douche-y counterparts. I’ve encountered many of these nice guy anomalies in my dating years, including the following 2 good guys:

Pete the Pilot.

A fellow I dated while I was living in San Diego 3 years ago. Everything was great on paper. Everything. He was a pilot for a private plane (how hot is that?). He was good-looking. He was incredibly sweet and planned our 3 dates down to a T. We had really good conversations about Lost.  And he could rock a goddamn set of aviators. And yet by the end of Date 3, I felt zero chemistry for this guy. Nothing. But I knew the absolute best thing I could to him was bite the bullet and end it. And guess what – we’re still Facebook friends and I know that he found love with a nice girl in San Diego and still flies a giant private plane. So, one person won out of this situation and it was the nice guy.

Mr. Oklahoma. 

Oh, Mr. Oklahoma of eHarmony. He was like a humble slice of pie to remind me that there are hidden nice dudes in LA. I recently went on a 2-hour date with this guy (USC grad, born and raised in Oklahoma, now works in film) in Santa Monica and while he was perfectly nice and attentive, I just knew by the end of the night that I wasn’t interested in him at all. It all started to awkwardly fall apart at the end of the evening when I politely leaned out to give him a good-bye hug (most likely ass-out, as demonstrated in the picture below) and instead he went all pounce-y and tried to make out with my face. In a last-minute effort to hide from his incoming lips, I turned my cheek so he clumsily kissed my cheek. And when I tried to run off, he called after me, “I’d love to see you again!” and I replied with a “Umm…just text me. Bye!” Sure, maybe I should have just stood my ground right then and there and said, “No thanks, I’m not interested”, but I was just trying to make a quick getaway.

Image: Cosmo magazine. (yes, I read it. Don’t judge.)

At exactly 10 AM the following morning, he texted me asking me on a very specific, well thought-out date for Saturday night, even suggesting to get sushi since I had said I really liked sushi. I had to spend the next 8 hours thinking of a polite way to say, thanks but no thanks. Eventually, I figured out there was no way I was going to escape this situation without looking like a female douchebag. Finally, I came up with some sort of politely worded rejection, sent it off, and never heard a word back. The whole situation made me feel bad for this perfectly nice, small-town guy that is just trying to find love in a hopeless place (read: Los Angeles).

I’ve probably only learned 1 or 2 things in my dating days and otherwise I’m pretty damn clueless. But here you go: if you are dating a nice guy that you don’t like but you just feel too bad or guilty or you keep hoping chemistry/feelings will magically develop, just rip the band-aid right off and end it. It is a very unfair thing to string this nice guy along and on top of it — keep him from meeting his Ms. Right. Because if there’s one thing I believe, nice guys don’t finish last.

Mr. Face Twitch.

Ladies of Los Angeles, I gotta ask – does anyone find they get asked out on dates to the same exact wine bar over and over again? It’s like the men of LA only know of 1 first date spot. In my case, it’s Bodega wine bar in Santa Monica. I think I’ve been on at least 10 blind dates there. I’m surprised the bartenders don’t recognize me as that awkward girl who keeps coming back for sad dates.

Anyways, this brings me to Mr. Face Twitch. He invited me to – surprise surprise — Bodega.

I actually ran out of work thinking I was late at 6:15 for a 6:30 date (thank you difficult client). I somehow made it there and parked promptly at 6:30. He was not there but I found a place to sit. By 6:55, I ordered a glass of wine and made friends with the 50something man next to me named Frank. Awkwardly, I had to put my credit card down to hold the order.

To Mr. Face Twitch’s credit, I followed my Online Dating Rule of not giving out my number for safety and security purposes, so he didn’t have my phone number. I did have his though, and finally texted him at 7:00 to say “ohh hey…i’m here, grabbed a spot to sit.” He apologized and said he had gotten held up at work but didn’t have my number to give me the heads-up.

He finally showed up at 7:10 (40 minutes late…), and “photo” Mr. Face Twitch was cuter than “real life” Mr. Face Twitch. Basically, he was perfectly nice but awkward and nerdy and made weird faces and twitched. 30 minutes in, I knew I wanted out and after an hour finally said something about having to meet friends for Trivia Night (blatant lie). We couldn’t find the waitress to close the tab. By the time she finally came around, she asked how we wanted to settle given my credit card was holding the tab. He had 2 beers; I had 1 glass of wine (mine was at happy hour price; his 2 beers were not due to his tardiness).

I requested the check and he left his credit card on the table and went to bathroom. The waitress asked me how to do the bill while he was gone. I was stupid enough just to stutter (I really wanted to LEAVE!!), “Uummm….just split it halfway.” So basically I paid for this guy to drink beer.

He returned from the bathroom, we signed the checks (REALLY?? I’m on online dating sites for the free drinks/food!! I expect to see some ROI out of this), and I then I ran away.

The worst part of it all? Mr. Face Twitch and I have been matched up on 3 separate dating sites. Apparently, we’re good together on paper and disastrous in real life.

My Online Dating Safety Tips – Part II: Congrats – you’ve made a date! How to meet him in a safe and comfortable manner.

{ a continuation of My Online Dating Safety Tips – Part I }

Congratulations – you’ve navigated Match.com, OkCupid, or any of the many online dating sites, kept your identity relatively secure, and met someone you want to meet for a date! What do you do?

1)   Drive/taxi/walk yourself. He’s a stranger. Remember Stranger Danger? This applies here. Even though he offers to pick you up like a true gentleman (and most are!), get yourself to Date #1 on your own. Giving a potential creeper your address opens up a whole can of bad worms.

2)   If he suggests going to his house and cooking and/or taking 1 car from there to your date, decline. He could be a really great chef and he could just be trying to make things logistically easier for all parties involved. Regardless, DO NOT meet him in a private place like his house. Meet in a public spot like a coffee shop, bar, library, distillery, beach, neighbors’ lawn. Frankly, I don’t care if it’s the South Bay’s dirtiest hole in the wall bar, just make sure there are other people there in case of the worst*

3)   Tell a trusty girlfriend the following: his name, occupation, where you are going, and agree on a time you’ll check in. Also, let her know when you get home safe. I know we are all awesome, independent women and we loathe the idea of checking in with a parent/friend/colleague, but at the end of the day, your safety is the most important thing in the world. EVEN above getting laid.

4)   Have an exit plan. Ever since I was of dating age, my stepgrandmonther insisted I carry at least $20 in cash on me for a taxi home. Cash is always good to have on hand in case of a car breakdown or garage lock-in (see the Mr. Pretentious Part II incident).

5) Have fun!

Online dating: We’ve come a long way baby. 

Image: i probably won’t like you.


*The worst could involve any and all of the following: you recognize his face from America’s Top 10 Most Wanted, oops – he’s actually your female boss’ recent ex-boyfriend, he compares the size of your boobs to his ex’s, he tries to touch you inappropriately, you are 95% sure you saw him drop something in your drink…you get the idea.

Mr. Pretentious. Part II.

{ a continuation of Mr. Pretentious Part I }

There’s a wonderfully quirky bar in West Hollywood called Bar Lubitsch; inside that bar lurks a not so wonderful gentleman named Mr. Pretentious.

Once we arrived from the jazz club, he ordered another martini and I elected to nurse a Stella since I had a long drive back to West LA. Since Bar Lubitsch was noticeably quieter than the jazz club  he took this as his chance to ask such insightful first date questions as “When was your last long term relationship?” and “They say a person makes a judgment about another person within 5 seconds. So what did you think of me?” As I was starting to lose my patience, I informed him of the truth that I hadn’t been in a long term relationship in 4 years and what the hell was with that handkerchief.

After the handkerchief mockery, the conversation got very awkward and I realized maybe I should attempt to be a little nicer to even pretentious guys on a first date. I asked why he was running for local office. He in turn gave me the most ridiculous spiel about how nothing ever gets done in politics because too many old people are in control and they don’t care about making a difference anymore and are too lazy to push changes through. My cynicism reared its ugly head at this point and I told him that in my opinion he was being naïve. I said he’ll get into office and realize how much red tape there is and how difficult it is to actually get anything done, and that is why the people currently in office seemingly get nothing accomplished. He retorted it would not be that way for him and he’s here to legitimately change things.

That was my cue to use the bathroom, check the time to ensure that I would get back to my car at midnight when the garage closed, and text multiple girlfriends that this was the night in Hollywood Hell. Upon my return, 2 lemon shots sat on the table. I glared at them and announced, “I’m not drinking that.” So he drank both and then suggested we dance. Since I had 20 minutes and a beer to kill, I acquiesced and then bore witness to the worst thing ever: this man on a dance floor. Imagine a robot with a broken hip but this robot thinks he’s sexy. It was still worse than what you are imagining.

11:30 was my cue to get back to my car before it turned into a pumpkin at midnight and as much as I attempted to leave him in his lemon drop haze at Bar Lubbitsch, he insisted on ensuring I make it back to my car safely – right after he pounded his last martini. The following series of events took place between 11:40 and 11:47 PM on this Friday night:

11:40 PM: Taxi pulls up to garage and the gate is closed and there is no sign of escape for my car.

11:40:20 seconds PM: I get angry.

11:41 PM: “I’ll handle this, don’t worry” he slurs. His version of handling it consists of him screaming at the gate “Is anyone there?”

11:42 PM: politicians can’t get anything done, but I sure can. Just as I’m iPhone googling the parking garage management company (I can read signs, apparently Mr. Pretentious cannot), a nice gentleman in a car pulls up and says he works in the building and he can buzz me into it and I can get my car out that way.

11:44 PM: I get to my car and Mr. Pretentious is still somehow beside me. Now I’m not sure how he would get out of the locked garage so I let him in my car and say I’ll drop him at whatever bar his alleged friends are at. He says to just drop him at the corner at Sunset.

11:45 PM: Corner of Sunset. Of course he won’t get out of my car. 2-minute conversation ensues of the following, “Get out, I’m going home. Unless you want to be dropped off nearby, get out.” “Wait, are you serious” “Yes.” “Wait, you are seriously telling me to get out of the car?” “Yes.” “What?” “I’m going home, I’m tired, I have a long drive home, get out.” He finally opens the door and glares at me – “Is this seriously happening right now?” Me – “Yes, get out!” he throws his hand up at me in anger, exits, and slams the door.

The last martini must have been a mind eraser for Mr. Pretentious because at 7:30 the following morning, he texted “Did you have a nice night last night?” I ignored him and my instincts to write back “Were we on the same date?”

I did wind up getting back to Mr. Pretentious eventually and wishing him good luck on his campaign. After all, he’s just what Washington and Los Angeles need in office – another douchebag.