(I am talking to a guy on [Dating App]. After a good while of talking:)

Guy: “Wow! We have so much in common. You are the perfect woman. Smart, beautiful… May I ask what your height is?”

Me: “Sure. I’m 1m, 53cm tall.”

Guy: Awww. Almost perfect. Oh, well, I usually like taller women, but I can try to overlook your defect.”

(I obviously tell him off and never speak to him again, until, on a different social media platform:)

Guy: “Hi! I saw your pictures and I think we have a lot in common. Can we talk and get to know each other?”

(Is he for real?!)

(I am sat next to my male colleague, who I’m quite good friends with. I’m female and have recently realised I’m bi. I am complaining to him about my new discovery that I am terrible at chatting up women, when I realise that he has a girlfriend and ask him for tips. Note that we’re both lawyers. We chat for a bit about what he used to do and then…)

Colleague: “I think now… Okay, so, I guess if it was now, you’d want to just talk to her. And then you agree that it’s exclusive, so you know the terms you stand on.”

Me: “Are you suggesting I make her sign an exclusivity agreement?”

Colleague: “Bring it on the first date.”

Me: “That’ll go down well.”

Colleague: “Make sure you include all the relevant warranties.”

Me: “To the best of my knowledge and belief, I am not dating anyone else?”

Colleague: “Schedule five contains a list of all former relationships.”

Me: “A list of all ex-lovers who might want to kill me.”

Colleague: “Let’s go for material relationships; that’ll do it.”

Me: “Do I stick indemnities in there, as well? Like, in the event of a break up, you will indemnify me for the cost of all gifts over a certain amount?”

Colleague: “Couldn’t hurt. You see, this will be very romantic.”

Me: “Yup. Do we have to give notice to terminate?”

Colleague: “No, we’ll go for at-will.”

Me: “Very American. Also sensible.”

Colleague: “Oh, but in the event of a material breach…”

Me: “You have to remedy within ten days?”

Colleague: “Yes!”

Me: “You know, when I asked you for help, I wasn’t expecting you to advise I bring a 100-page legal document with me.”

Colleague: “Well, it could just be heads of terms. So, not binding.”

Me: “Like a lesser version of a prenup?”

Colleague: “If you keep adding terms, though, you know what it’ll be?”

Me: “…what?”

Colleague: “A relationship agreement!”

Me: “…”

Colleague: “What?”

Me: “That’s terrible.”

Colleague: “It’s true, though. It’s an agreement that governs the relationship between two parties. A relationship agreement!”

Me: “This is the last time I ask you for advice on dating.”

(For the record, the other lawyers sitting around us slowly edged away during this conversation…)

Related:

Dating Sheldon Cooper, Part 15

Dating Sheldon Cooper, Part 14

Dating Sheldon Cooper, Part 13

(I am waiting for a table outside of a popular restaurant with my friends. A couple in their early 20s comes up and signs the register to queue for a table as well. While they’re waiting, they start talking together about various things. Most of the conversation is pretty normal and boring, until…)

Woman: “I just hate public toilets.”

Man: “Oh, I know. There’s just always some slob who hasn’t cleaned up after themselves.”

Woman: “Uh. No. I meant the seats.”

Man: “What? Like that thing about women not sitting and they pee everywhere?”

Woman: “No! Someone is always closing the toilet seats!”

Man: “What?”

Woman: “You know how there’s a lid? Someone always closes it, and then I have to open it and touch the filthy lid. And it’s just. Ugh.”

Man: “Oh.”

Woman: “Yeah.”

Man: “But you’re supposed to close it so the bacteria doesn’t spray everywhere when you flush. My mum used to chew me out about that every time I didn’t.”

Woman: “Well, at home, sure. That’s your own toilet. In public toilets, I just don’t flush.”

Man: “Oh, my God! You’re one of those?”

Woman: *offended* “What?!”

Man: *laughing* “You’re one of the people that I was talking about, who doesn’t flush after they leave a brick in the bowl. F***, you’re nasty!”

Woman: “You’re disgusting!”

Man: “Says the person who doesn’t flush, and probably doesn’t wash her hands after, either!”

(I go to college out of state, but come home to Houston every year for holidays and summers. My boyfriend attends college where I do, but lives elsewhere. A male friend I have known since high school contacts me on messenger to ask about my holiday plans one year.)

Friend: “So, you’re going to be home again for Thanksgiving?”

Me: “Yeah, I thought about going to see my boyfriend’s family this year, but we decided that we should just each go home separately. I might go visit him for New Year’s, though.”

Friend: “We should get together when you’re back! We can have a big outing like we used to with everyone!”

Me: “That sounds like fun! If you plan it, I’ll find a way to make it.”

(A few weeks pass, and Thanksgiving break is imminent. He messages me again.)

Friend: “Hey! Are we still on for getting together when you’re back?”

Me: “Sure thing! Is that Saturday okay with everyone? Did you want to do an e-vite so everyone knows? I can set something up and start a group chat.”

Friend: “I’ll take care of it. Are you bringing your car back? Do you need a ride?”

Me: “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure [Another Friend of ours] can pick me up, since I live so close to him.”

Friend: “No, no! I insist on picking you up! Does [Local Restaurant] sound okay?”

Me: “Sure. I think that should be within everybody’s budgets.”

(I came home for Thanksgiving and the get-together had been solidified. Or so I thought. My friend texted me to say he was coming to pick me up. Upon arriving at the restaurant, I discovered that he lied and didn’t invite anyone else; it was just the two of us. I insisted on paying for my meal, despite his repeated attempts to cover it, and the entire evening was extremely awkward with little conversation. When he drove me home, he even tried to lean over to kiss me as I was getting out of the car. I chewed him out over messenger when I finally got over my shock and disgust, and he acted like I was some cheating girlfriend who had led him on for months. When I mentioned the whole scenario to a mutual friend of ours, he laughed and said that this was the third time that guy had pulled this series of tricks on a girl in our social circles. And every time, he tried to blame it on her “leading him on.”)

(I am allergic to dairy; I will go into shock if I have even a small amount. A surprisingly large amount of stuff has dairy in it and I hate making people wait while I check whether something will kill me, so I often go for the easiest thing on the menu. I meet this guy online and we go to a coffee shop to meet, safely, in person. I ask for soy in my drink and he asks if it is for flavour reason; I state that it is a dietary requirement, but we don’t talk much about it further than that. We decide to continue with the relationship, and a week or so later we go on our first date. He chooses an Italian place for dinner, which is a very risky place for me to go to. I find it a little odd, considering the coffee shop, but I just go for a vegan dish to be safe. A few weeks later, he invites me out to a steak place. I have never been to this place and I can’t find a website to check their menu prior to going. It’s a little bit worrying, but I know most dairy in a steakhouse is in the optional sauces. When I arrive, my date keeps glancing at me, which I don’t really understand. We are seated and given menus, and he is now staring at me intently.)

Me: “What?”

Date: *somewhat smugly* “You won’t find anything vegan on the menu.”

Me: “What’s your point?”

Date: *smug look falters* “Huh?”

Me: “I said, ‘What’s your point?’ I’m not vegan.”

Date: “But… The soy? And at the Italian place?”

Me: “I’m allergic to dairy. Severely allergic, actually, so vegan is a safe choice for me. You took me to a steakhouse thinking I was a vegan?” *pause* “And you thought I would accept it if I was a vegan?”

Date: “W-Well, I thought it would be funny to watch you struggle.”

Me: “You wanted to watch the little vegan get upset over not being able to eat off the menu. Wow.”

Date: “But this is great that you’re just allergic! That means you’re fine to be with!”

Me: “What?”

Date: “Yeah, ’cause vegans are crazy! You don’t f*** crazy!”

(I stare at him.)

Me: “You’re totally right; you don’t f*** crazy. I don’t f*** crazy, or stupid, or a**holes. See ya.”

(I get that some vegans are in your face about it, but that guy was just a jerk.)

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