Date One, Get One Free

For a person who prides himself on giving good, salient advice to people, I generally am tone-def when the subject changes affairs of the heart. I believe that it is because I hold my friends in such high regard; it is tough for anyone else to measure up. Seriously.

With guy friends it’s easier; all the woman has to be is nice, and not try and separate him from his friends, namely me. Rarely, I think of it in terms of marriage. Or any kind of future plans, except if her (or his) folks are wealthy. Then I try and speed the process right up.

For the women I’m friends with, forget it. I’m a nightmare, I think. Over-protective, suspicious and guarded. I am in no hurry to be buddy-buddy with the douche bag (there I go again) that is trying to sleep with them. I would rather he focus on treating her well and not try and go all playboy.

But my eyes are on them at all times. Does he help her on with her coat? Is he constantly staring at other women? Is he cheap, or worse, short?

I am constantly on high alert because most straight guys in their twenties and early thirties today are tools. Not all of them. (And certainly not you, reader. Certainly not.) Just, like, 85% or something. And not all types of twentysomethings. Just fashion-y ones. The pretty boys. You have no idea how little time I have for them and their skinny jeans and knit ties. No idea. And I know what lurks in the minds of men. And I want it knocked off.

I should talk. Back in the day I toiled and staggered through a series of doomed liaisons (which is probably far too strong a word) with lady douche bags, and suffered for years before I hit the motherload. And she hit me back.

I was 29, and decidedly not a tool. And by decidedly, I really mean, hopefully.