Reasons I Cannot Date You                      

Reasons I Cannot Date You


Your reaction, more often than not, to utterly banal details of my life was to tell me I was “so fancy” or that my life was “jetset.”

Hi. I live in an apartment the size of a coat closet with no dishwasher to speak of and fly coach way more often than I’d like to admit. While I’m genuinely grateful for my relatively privileged existence, my life is not now nor has it ever been “jetset.”

At age 27 drinking wine other than two buck chuck and having actual art on my walls instead of posters doesn’t make me fancy. It makes me age appropriate. Sorry your life isn’t.

I cannot date you.

    Nov 19    
The “you so fancy” guy.

Your idea of post date follow-up was to Poke me on Facebook.

Hi. I’m so confused. It all seemed so promising: a great pick for our first date venue, one of those amazing evenings that somehow transitioned from early drinks into a dinner where we shut the restaurant down. 

And yet, then it all went so horribly awry. I didn’t even know Poking still existed. I’m pretty sure I was better off without that knowledge.

I cannot date you.

    Aug 13    
The “let me poke you on Facebook” guy.

You told me you were “really into photography” and that I would have to get used to you taking my picture incessantly. You failed to clarify that you meant I needed to get used to you taking pictures of me while I was asleep. 

Hi. I love that you have a hobby, it’s so very quaint of you and makes you much more multifaceted than the other men I meet, whose seem to mainly spend their time making money and then spending said money on whiskey, steak and fast cars.

That being said, you understand why I found it mildly disturbing when I came across eight photo albums on your phone which consisted solely of me sleeping, right?

You should talk to someone about your condition. They can help you, you know.

I cannot date you.

    Jul 10    
The “I’m a photographer” guy.

You pulled your resume out when our drinks arrived. You said you didn’t want to forget to mention any of your accomplishments.

Hi. I realize in this day and age, particularly in Manhattan, men are judged by their career prowess. It can be daunting, for sure, but let’s not admit quite so publicly that the pressure is getting to you.

Also, I’d already read your LinkedIn profile. You’d have cleared the bar, minus that pesky little problem of being thoroughly socially awkward.

I cannot date you.

    Jul 9    
The “I brought my resume” guy.

You would opt to update Facebook multiple times a day while ignoring my texts.

Hi.  I understand. No text from a girl, not even me, can provide you with the same rush of euphoria that comes from seeing 30+ likes light up your post of a baby animal picture.

That being said, maybe a response every twelve or eighteen hours would be okay, especially since all I wanted to know was what you wanted to me wear to your firm’s happy hour.

Then again, baby animal pictures? Nevermind.

I cannot date you.

    Jul 8    
The “Facebook is my jam” guy.

You asked me out on a date and before I’d had a chance to so much as answer, my boss pulled me aside and told me you’d mentioned that we were going out.

Hi. I know that thanks to the wonders of Google, once you have a company name and a first name, it’s fairly easy to unearth legions of personal information about your potential date. Including that they work for the dude that pitches in your weekend softball league.

That being said, it’s quite a different thing to reach out to my boss and tell him you “closed with his hot salesgirl” before I’ve even decided to go out with you, even if you think the two of you are bros. (By the way, you’re not. He finds you irritating. As do I.) 

I cannot date you.

    Jul 5    
The “your boss and I are bros” guy.

You asked me out for a coffee date. 

Hi. So I’m just curious - what exactly was your game plan if the first cup went well? To order another one and add to the latent nerves inherently present on any early date? 

I’m glad your dating game has evolved not at all since you were sixteen.

Coffee is not for closers. 

I cannot date you.

    Jul 4    
The “let’s get coffee” guy.

You took the liberty of telling the bartender to make my drinks at half strength all evening. And then informed me of this as though I should thank you for being so considerate.

Hi. I’ve been monitoring my alcohol consumption on dates for some nine years now, believe it or not. I generally don’t need any help from my suitors.

Also, ostensibly, people go on dates because they like the other person … doesn’t that generally go part and parcel along with not thinking that your date is a raging alcoholic? Maybe that’s just me. 

I cannot date you.

    Jul 3    
The “I think you might be a child” guy.

You took me on one interminable date and instead of taking a hint when I didn’t respond to your many, many texts, you opted to start sending me pictures of my apartment several times a week letting me know you were “right outside!.”

Hi. I get where you’re coming from here, you figured if you made if convenient for me to see you, I’d take you up on the opportunity.

Here’s a secret about women: if we actually like you, we’ll do any number of inconvenient things to ensure that we see you and look good when we do. See: bikini waxes. If we don’t like you, you can camp out on our doorstep all you want and we’ll continue to ignore you. As we walk bym in our pajamas.

Also, opportunity doesn’t always breed success. Sometimes, it breeds restraining orders.

I cannot date you.

    Jul 2    
The “I’m right outside” guy.

You took me to dinner at a restaurant where the portions could conceivably feed entire African families and then when I told the waiter that, no, I wasn’t interested in a doggy bag, you scowled at me and said you’d take my leftovers home.

Hi. I understand that dating can get expensive and, God knows, I too have tried to stretch my Seamless dinners to lunch the next day.

That being said, taking a doggy bag home on a date is generally a great way to ensure that’s all that goes home with you.

I cannot date you.

    Jun 27    
The “waste not, want not” guy.

You asked me if you could kiss me. On our third date. 

Hi. Pro-tip: if I’m out with you for a third time and I’m over the age of, say, twelve, I’m probably okay with you kissing me. 

Guess what I’m not okay with? You asking me. Please be a man and go after what you want already.

I cannot date you.

    Jun 26    
The “is it okay if I kiss you?” guy.

You extolled the virtues of your favorite West Village haunt for thirty minutes straight and a fifteen dollar cab ride, only for us to find it oddly empty. On a Thursday night.

Hi. I know it’s a bit counterintuitive, but the reason people go out to bars in the first place is to be subtly in the company of strangers. It’s atmospheric. Otherwise, we could avoid the 3x markup on booze and sit in your living room and drink. 

I didn’t want to sit in your living room the first three times you asked me. Empty bars on Thursday nights in a town of alcoholics are creepy, not romantic. 

I cannot date you.

    Jun 25    
The “empty bars are romantic” guy.

You began the date by asking if we could sit in silence for five minutes to determine if we were comfortable with each other. 

Hi. I realize that being able to sit in companionable silence is an important thing for most couples. Kudos for calling that out as it’s oft overlooked.

However, maybe it’s just me, but I’ve always found it more important to first ascertain whether I actually like talking to my significant others. 

I cannot date you.

    Jun 24    
The “moment of silence” guy.

You managed to make one drink last three hours. It was wine. White wine. 

Hi. Nursing is for when you’re drinking bourbon, tequila, rye or scotch. Neat. Nursing is not a thing you do to wine, especially on a first date.

Especially when your date, who is a foot shorter and nearly 100 lbs lighter than you, is on round two. 

I cannot date you.

    Jun 20    
The “I like to nurse my drink” guy.

You refused to reschedule dinner despite being on call the past two nights. Then, you fell asleep. At the table.

Hi. Look, I get it. Babbo is hard to get into, you wanted points for your efforts. However, all of those points were immediately erased when you showed up for our date with bloodshot eyes and reeking of formaldehyde.

Suffice to say, falling asleep at the dinner table before we so much as ordered wine didn’t improve the trajectory of the evening. 

The flowers the next day were lovely, though. Still - 

I cannot date you.

    Jun 19    
The “but I made a reservation” guy.
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