“Excuse me, why do you have the sour bug?”
That’s what a guy once said to me in a bar. I know, I know; you’re totally swooning. If you’re a woman and you’re alive, chances are you’ve been hit on by a Pickup Artist (commonly known as PUAs), by this method known as “negging.”
I always thought of PUAs as nightclub prowlers, dressed like they rummaged through a clown’s closet, decked out in Ed Hardy, looking like a cross between Steven Tyler and The Situation from “Jersey Shore.” I often wondered, Who are these supposed women who found men donning sparkly scarves, multiple rings, and fingerless, leather gloves attractive? I imagine they are the same types of women who still think George Michael is straight. I thought of PUAs as full of canned come-ons, the smell of desperation wafting off of them like bad cologne. Their core problem, I analyzed, was lack of confidence. Common sense would dictate that secure men don’t need a script to approach women. Can you imagine Bill Clinton or Don Draper using PUA methods? I don’t think so.
As you may have deduced from my tone, I always looked down on PUAs and their slimy methods. Which is why I couldn’t stop myself from signing up for a class entitled “Pickup a 10 in the Streets of NYC.” At first I was just curious; I wanted to know what makes these guys tick. I imagined myself as a spy on a reconnaissance mission, collecting information from the enemy. Or like Sigourney Weaver in “Gorillas in the Mist,” studying the species’ every move. Keep reading »
After a four year hiatus from online dating, for a number of reasons, I was ready to give it a shot again. The most important being: I think you get out of things what you put into them, and my love life … well, let’s just say my effort level has been minimal at best. The last online date I went on –four years ago — ended with me running. Literally. I had to run from the restaurant after the guy told me he was under federal investigation and thought that it was a woman’s job to change diapers. So you can imagine how anxious I was to venture into the virtual dating world again.
I was beyond relieved when I saw T* sitting there at the wine bar, looking better than he did in his online profile. I exhaled as I took in his nerdy glasses, his nice smile. I was excited when I found out that we actually had stuff to talk about –our similar career paths, our love of The Smiths. I was thrilled when we made plans to go on a bike ride for our second date. I had recently gotten a bicycle and was looking forward to riding it.
This was going better than I ever could have hoped. Online dating … onward ho! Keep reading »
His teeny little profile picture was cute. He was the right age range and city. But when I opened the online dating message from this random dude, this is what he said:
Isn’t feminism a little obsolete? Men and women are equal nowadays. In fact, the balance is tipped in your favor.
Of all the things for a man to comment upon in my profile, he chose to kinda-insulted me by calling my belief system “obsolete”? I rolled my eyes. I hit delete. Another one bites the dust.
I’d been “negged.” Keep reading »
I was at the bar at the Mandarin Oriental in Las Vegas enjoying a glass of champagne and having an intense one-in-the-morning chat with a new friend about raising kids (she’s a mom, I want to be one) when a young, casually-dressed guy came over and put his hand on both our backs. He was cute and friendly and something about his unexpected approach sparked my interest. I wasn’t there looking to meet anyone, but I rarely get hit on, so I paid attention. My friend was married and not too impressed with him but she retired and let me judge for myself. Keep reading »