Dating

Guys And Dolls

WordPress, I told you I’d be back, within a week no less.

I saw this photo the other day, and I can’t lie – I laughed my ass off:

Look, I understand it’s cliche, but it’s true. To women all over the world – we just don’t think as much as y’all.

This explains why dating, and even more simply male and female interactions in general, are so messed up these days.

I admit it – sometimes I check out our Reader feed and I find myself amused at the countless number of posts from male and female bloggers who lament about their romantic struggles. But fear not – I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you. I mean, really, you have to find the comedy in single dating life, especially if it’s your own. Don’t worry, once you’re finally with that special someone, you’ll look back at these days and laugh even harder.

The general opinion is that guys are bad at texting. I tend to agree with this (not me though, I mean, can’t you tell by the Pulitzer-caliber writing quality of this blog that I’m phenomenal at texting) with a caveat – men and women simply communicate differently. The photo says it all – she over-analyzes and he over-simplifies. Maybe, just maybe, if women kept it a little more simple and men pulled back the curtain a little bit more in the text game, then singles would be better off. Just a thought.

P.S. By the way, Guys And Dolls, how did I come up with this oh so witty title? Well, Emily and I were in Netflix and chill mode the other night when we decided to watch Bill Murray’s Christmas Special because, well, Bill Murray is awesome. In the special, Murray sings Baby It’s Cold Outside. I think to myself, Hey who wrote that song? I go on Wikipedia and find out it was written by Frank Loesser. I think to myself, Hey, Frank Loesser wrote Guys And Dolls. And here we are. It’s been three days and I still can’t get this song out of my head.

P.P.S. If you haven’t, you should watch Guys and Dolls. Marlon Brando singing is horrifically awesome.

Chris.

The Paradox Of Expectations

Oh WordPress, how I’ve missed you.

Actually, no, I haven’t. I’ll come clean; I almost forgot the password to this account.

Guess you’re our illegitimate stepchild after all.

We go into blogging with the mindset that we’ll keep it up and post regularly. I mean, c’mon, surely we have at least fifteen minutes a day that we can spare to blog, right? Right?

No, we do not. We’re too busy watching the same Vine loop a thousand times on our phone or stalking our ex-lover, ex-friend, ex-coworker, ex-whatever on Facebook.

If you’re new to blogging, just know this: one day you’ll hate blogging.

I listened to a podcast episode of NPR’s Hidden Brain the other day. This episode featured Aziz Ansari, and they discussed a concept known as the paradox of choice.

We love having options, but is there such a thing as having too many options?

I do get frustrated when I can’t decide on an entree at a restaurant that has a million dishes to choose from, as opposed to In-N-Out Burger, where I know exactly what I want since there’s only three items on the menu (secret menu notwithstanding).

How about dating? Is it good now that Tinder, Match, and eHarmony have given singles an endless pool of matches to choose from? I don’t know; it seems to me that the increased dating pool has left singles less satisfied with who they’re currently dating and more curious about what other, better options are out there.

The creator of the paradox of choice, Barry Schwartz, says that there’s a simple solution: lower your expectations.

Lower your expectations? The hell?

I don’t know about that. Lowering expectations can lead to taking less chances, and what is life without taking a chance or two along the way?

I would revise the solution this way: manage your expectations. Be careful not to expect something to be the best thing ever, yet don’t completely give up going in. Find that nice even ground that suits your personality and situation.

Like this blog. I expect I’ll post again once or twice before the new year. I’m not saying I’m going to do this everyday like I used to, but I won’t be forgetting my password anytime soon either.

Chris.

Two Week Recap

I haven’t been on WordPress for the past two weeks.

I wondered what I’ve been missing and what my fellow bloggers are up to.

Here is the overall theme from what I’ve gathered from five minutes of perusing my feed:

Men are still creeps.

Got it. Thanks for the update. Good talk.

Chris.

An Abbot Kinney Anniversary

So how was everyone’s weekend, good? Actually, I don’t care.

Saturday was our two year anniversary. Yes, that’s right, someone out there exists that can actually stand being with me for two years. It turns out that I’m not so bad. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I am a h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s individual, and as long as you don’t mind the chronic flatulence, I can be a good time.

Anniversary day is code for doing whatever she wants (if you’re reading this, Emily, I am totally kidding). After a relaxing morning that involved Netflixing and eating breakfast burritos, we took a drive out to Santa Monica. A few days ago, Emily found out that a Philz Coffee existed in Santa Monica. The news gave her an orgasm – a coffee orgasm, that is.

Philz Coffee in Santa Monica, CA

I like coffee but I go out of my way to drink regular coffee on a regular basis. What do I mean? People get extremely snobby about coffee, scoffing at commercialized, “normal” brands from their high horses. I don’t want to be that guy who’s always drinking the premier brands that the hardcore bougie coffee aficionados drink.

I must say, though, Philz does make a legit brew.

Speaking of bougie, we made our way to Venice afterwards where we spent the afternoon on Abbot Kinney Boulevard. This street is basically a hipster’s wet dream. There’s nothing but boutique shops and restaurants there. I did come across a cool men’s fashion store called The Stronghold, and Emily was able to buy some treats for our dog at Modern Dog. By the way, bringing our dog with us – not a great idea. He’s more A.D.D. than a thirteen-year old Asian gamer.

The highlight of my time there was eating a mint chip ice cream cone and witnessing an older MILF-like woman throw up on the sidewalk from drinking one too many mimosas. I wish I had captured that on camera.

A shot of Abbot Kinney Boulevard

Emily and Kang Kang

At The Stronghold

Of course, there was traffic ready to kick me in the balls as we departed Abbot Kinney to head home. I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, but yet I can’t help but feel a bit astonished to see that much freeway congestion on a Saturday.

At night, I took Emily to a sushi restaurant in Yorba Linda called Sushi Noguchi. When we got seated, the only thing on my mind was beer. We had some nice unagi, uni, salmon, yellowtail, and tuna. We were really able to taste the quality of the fish as the cuts were thick and smooth. And did I mention beer?

Cold Japanese beer on tap is magic.

All in all, it was a good day. I won’t get into the gifts or what we hand-wrote in the cards that we gave each other. I’m also not going to mention the fight Emily and I got into that day (fellas: a girl will freak out on you from time to time; just weather that storm and roll on). Why spoil things, y’know? I just want everyone to know that it was a nice way to celebrate two years of relationship bliss. I didn’t have to break the bank (though that sushi wasn’t cheap); all we had to do was change it up a little bit. It was quite nice, minus the traffic.

That pretty much sums up Los Angeles – nice, minus the traffic.

Happy 2 years to us.

Chris.

Remembering Single Life

Yesterday I came home from work to an empty house.

Emily was away on a business trip, and I had asked my parents to dogsit for us while she’s gone.

It was definitely a bit odd arriving to a silent home. Originally, I thought that I was going to enjoy having the house to myself. Everyone needs their alone time, after all, and this would be a brief moment to soak in the joys of solitude.

We’ve all heard it before – the grass is greener on the other side. When we’re single, we look at couples in love with equal parts of wonder, contempt, pity, and envy. We may think, How pathetic, they depend on each other for happiness. Why can’t they just be happy on their own? Losers. Or, Get a room you assholes. But deep down, perhaps we feel jealousy creeping up our spinal cords, longing to be with that someone to experience life with, who can tolerate us just enough and not fill us with shame when they see how ridiculous our naked bodies look in bed.

When we’re in a relationship, we look at single people in the same way, don’t we? We almost resent them for being so different, yet we envy their seemingly independent lifestyles. Our single friends can fly off to Rome on a moment’s notice without any permission, we think. They have all the time to sit around and do what they want.

Despite everyone being gone and my having the house to myself, I really didn’t do anything different. I didn’t have a massive freakout session a la Tom Cruise in Risky Business. All I did was eat some leftovers and watch a movie on Netflix – I ended up watching Electrick Children; kind of an odd movie, I think I enjoyed it, but am not completely sure.

This blog is called A Couple Talks. Emily and I started this whole thing because we thought we’d enjoy doing this together. That was the point and still is – together.

Thinking about last night though, I wonder, where the hell would I be if I was single? Would my life be that much different? I mean, I’d be eating out a lot more and the interior design of my home would be a lot worse – I never gave a shit about that before Emily moved in – but what about me? What kind of person would I be right now?

The core of who I am is the same, and I think that’s a good thing. I don’t believe anyone should completely change who they are on account of someone else. It’s like a meat lover giving up beef to be with a vegan – why would anyone do that?

However, I must say that I’ve improved in many ways being with Emily. I read a lot more, have experienced new things, and have become more open to new possibilities about the future. In a way, it’s like I’ve stayed the same person but in a more enlightened state. And isn’t that what we all want from a relationship?

Don’t get me wrong, being single is great. There’s so much personal growth that can happen being single. I know a lot of people are sick of dating, viewing it as a waste of time to spend an evening with a stranger which will most likely end up nowhere. And I know a lot of people also feel like they are doomed to be single forever, feeling like there is absolutely no way that they will meet anyone compatible enough to be in a lasting committed relationship with.

If this is you, the truth is, I have no idea if you’ll ever find that person you can spend the rest of your life with. It would be bullshit for me to be like, There there, you’ll meet the one eventually, everyone does. I have no fucking clue.

What I believe is this – life can appear to be completely random, and most of it is, but it’s really up to us to make of it what we want. Whether we’re single or in a relationship, we should always be evaluating the state of our lives – Is this how we want our lives to be? Are we in a good place? Are we headed in the right direction? What can we do to improve ourselves and our situation?

Our fates are not sealed. We have the pen and paper, so let’s be the ones writing our life story rather than having someone else write it for us.

– Chris.

A Guide to Getting a Girl’s Digits

Last night, our friends got together to celebrate Chris turning another year wiser.

We went to this bar/lounge/club in Orange County called The Commissary Lounge. I would like to rename this place The Meat Market. I have coined it The Meat market because my girlfriends and I could feel the eyeballs scanning us from head to toe as we walked into the empty room at 9:30. Picture a big warehouse, empty in the center of the room, and the perimeters lined with couches, a full bar, and a DJ. As the time passed on and the center started filling in, I did notice some women whenever I scanned the room for Chris. But it was definitely a sausage fest from where I was standing. So much of a sausage fest that there was an endless rotation of men who approached we three girls the entire night.

Credit: Yelp

As one of Chris’s friends puts it, “You know you’re a hot commodity when you’re drunk and you didn’t even pay for a single drink.”

Chris has written posts about how he thinks men should approach women. Given yesterday’s eventful night, I’d like to share a woman’s perspective of what works and what doesn’t work. Without further ado, I share with you a tactical guide to getting a girl’s number.

WHAT WORKS: Approaching a girl and asking her common questions like, A/S/L? I must have told at least 5 guys that we were from Arizona and I now live in Fullerton. *Yawn*.

WHAT WORKS BETTER: Small talk and basic get-to-know-you is okay, but what really stands out is when someone can spark a common interest or make an interesting observation off the bat. It is also refreshing when someone can show off their sense of humor or personality instead of interview you. Maybe I am annoyed by the interview questions because I’m a recruiter Monday-Friday. Leave me alone.

Example: A guy started asking a series of “Would you rather” questions. “Would you rather be fat with a beautiful face or have a model body with an ugly face?” … “Would you rather live life to the fullest and die at 35 or live a stable, ordinary life until 60?” … “Would you rather have hair all of your body and not be able to shave or be hairless everywhere?” The defensive shield lowered with every laugh.

WHAT WORKS: Early on in the night when the room was empty, us three girls sat on the couches. We were engaging in conversation until a pot head randomly sat down on one end and proceeded to have a conversation with Ms. Hot Commodity. This approach was okay, as he ended up conversing for around 15 minutes. Apparently he was pretty deep with the aid of Mary Jane.

WHAT WORKS BETTER: A really outgoing, confident dude came up to all three of us on the dance floor. What was really smooth about this approach was he didn’t single any one of us out. But what he was able to pick up from this conversation was that I was in a relationship, another was engaged, and only one was available. Even then, he continued to engage with the engaged girl, making jokes like, “How did I not notice that? Look at that ring. That must be a VS2.” Girls look to their girlfriends for approval and by being friendly with a girl’s girlfriends, you’ve just made allies. Plus, if you are able to learn multiple girls are single, you can then make your move instead of strike out with the, “Sorry. I have a boyfriend.” move. Often told by single girls as a shield.

WHAT DOESN’T WORK: A dude literally came up to me and introduced himself as we shook hands. The next question he asks is, “Where are you from?” As I internally sighed, I explain I’m from AZ but moved to Fullerton. He follows up with, “What made you move out here?” I replied, “For love.” What happened next? This fool literally walked away. Good luck getting close to my single friends!

WHAT REALLY WORKS: Be genuinely nice. There were a group of guys towards the end of the night who offered to buy us girls multiple drinks. But then one of them realized Miss Anonymous probably had reached her limit, and offered to get her water. Not just tap water but bottled water. This doesn’t really matter too much to me because when I’m dehydrated I could care less if it is filtered but bonus points to this super considerate nice guy.

By the way, this guy was the only one out of all the sausages who ended up leaving with a number. 🙂

#Winning

~Emily

Go For The Girls With Blue Drinks

I might be an asshole for saying this.

Actually, I’m definitely an asshole for saying this.

The other night, I was at a bar with some friends. There was actually a line to get in – a big one. Imagine seeing dozens of people outside of a bar, foaming at the mouth to get in and give their money away in exchange for an alcoholic beverage at a ridiculous price.

These types of places are a bit strange, particularly the establishment-customer relationship. Young adults are always looking for the new hot-spot so that they have some place to be on a Friday night, and these bars need the customers to stay in business.

So who needs who more?

But back to my asshole tendencies. So we finally get in. The music is blaring. There’s a live DJ at this bar and he’s playing some horrible Top-40 hip-hop, per the usual. As we enter, the body heat hits us in the same way humidity in a tropical country would when exiting the airport. The place is packed and the cacophony of voices from the patrons act as background noise. Any semblance of conversation is going to require screaming.

We’re standing around, checking out the scene. Then I turn to one of the guys and tell him:

See that girl over there, with the blue drink? Yeah, you should go for girls with blue drinks.

What am I trying to say? Blue drinks will fuck you up. Whenever I see a girl holding a blue drink, I instantly assume that she’s okay with getting hammered, aka having a good time, aka open to being hit on by another guy. It’s like an open invitation to try out your charms on her, her alcoholic flag planted for all males to see.

Of course, keep it appropriate, though. I’m not that much of a jackass.

Is this always true? Of course it isn’t always true. But when it comes to meat markets like this bar, everyone’s judging and prejudging everyone else anyway, so why not use our observations and intuitions to our advantage?

It’s funny how the drink someone holds will lead to all sorts of conclusions. If I see a girl drinking straight up whisky, I’ll have this weird mix of being fascinated and impressed while assuming that she’s a bit of a tomboy.

If I see a guy drinking his beverage out of a straw, I’ll automatically judge him. C’mon you pussy, put that dainty little straw away and drink like a man, will ‘ya.

Anyone who takes shots at a bar is a douche, male or female, especially if they need a chaser to follow it. By the way, what’s the word for a female douche? I’ve always wondered about that.

And back to the blue drink. It’s usually an AMF, or Adios Motherfucker. Think about that – the drink is called A-D-I-O-S-M-O-T-H-E-R-F-U-C-K-E-R. Why would anyone ever order that?

You’re such an asshole, Chris. Who cares what people drink? They’re just having fun. You’re just hating. You must be a miserable little shit.

Jesus, calm down. I’m merely making some observations about people here. I’m allowed to formulate opinions, am I not? Hell, I’ve used those little, pathetic straws before for my pussy cocktail. Don’t get it twisted, I’m not saying I’m above all this, but I’m still able to point out idiocy and buffoonery as I see it.

It’s quite a conundrum – I hate judgment but I love to judge. Sue me.

Oh, by the way, the friend ended up not even approaching her. We just ended up drinking and talking to each other all night. She enjoyed her blue drink, and he enjoyed his blue balls. Just another night in the city.

– Chris.

She’s With HIM???

The other day, a friend was telling me about someone he knew.

This guy is fat and ugly, but he has a hot ass girlfriend.

I said, “Oh really. Let me see a picture.”

So I see the picture. He’s not that fat, and not that ugly. I’d say he’s an average looking Asian guy. His girlfriend, though, is a very cute blond.

Let’s be real – we’ve all come across this at some point, the guy-girl couple that doesn’t seem to fit. The dude is average looking at best, maybe even below average if we’re sipping on some extra haterade, and the chick is smoking hot.

Wait, wha… she’s with HIM???

Personally, I want to examine two things. First, I want to know how this happens. How does a guy out-kick his coverage to that level and nab a woman like that? If the guy’s a 5 and the girl’s a 9, then surely he knows something that the rest of us don’t know.

Second, I want to figure out why this is even an issue. How come we’re predisposed to believe that two people in a relationship should be in a similar aesthetic range?

***

Okay, so how does this happen? Of course, a lot of us will automatically assume that the guy is rich. But for argument’s sake, let’s count that option out. (As is the case of the guy my friend was talking about, I don’t believe he’s that wealthy, yet he was able to score his girl anyway)

It’s got to be a personality thing, right? Men are super visual, which is why this specific blog post even exists. The guy is probably funny as hell. He may also have a lot of charisma and confidence. Maybe he’s done some kind deeds.

Well, I’m not that funny, have low self-esteem, and am pretty selfish. Yeah, you’re fucked.

Here’s something I’ve observed through the years – a lot of men don’t look inward. They’ll look at a couple and wonder, “How the hell did he get her?” when they really mean “How can I get someone like her?”

I’ve got some single friends that wonder why they can’t get girls, but the subtext behind that question is something along the lines of, “What’s wrong with these girls? How come they don’t like me?”

I want to shake the shit out of these guys.

Bottom line – look at yourself and see where you can improve. If you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll keep getting what you’re getting. Be interesting. Accomplish something. Get to the point where you know that you have a lot to offer up to someone else. Then maybe you can be this guy that can get your beautiful girl.

Okay, calm down.

So why is a looks disparity even an issue? I think it goes back to ideas of self-worth. It’s like that quote in The Perks of Being A Wallflower – “We accept the love we think we deserve.” We see a guy with a hot chick and be like, “Psh, motherfucker don’t deserve that. She must be with him for his money, LOL LMAO LMFAO ROFL blah blah blah troll troll troll.”

I admit, there was a point in life where I was that guy. But really, it’s frustration, insecurity, and a false sense of entitlement that give people this negative attitude that really stunt their growth.

I suppose what I’m really trying to communicate is a message to men out there.

Don’t get caught up in another man’s shit.

If you see a normal guy with a hot chick, don’t start hating. Why don’t you be motivated and inspired instead? Take an honest look at yourself and see how you can be a better, more well-rounded person.

Alright, that’s it. I’m done. This topic got me stressed.

– Chris.

Liquid Courage

I should know my limits by now.

Yet, every now and then I will revert to my twenty-year-old self. Back when I was a spring chicken, I would drink without noticing my increasing state of drunkenness, and without warning I would end up praying to the porcelain god.

I’d like to think that I’ve matured since then. My tolerance for the booze has lowered substantially. As a result, a buzz hits early and often, but this is just the warning sign I need. I can usually maintain a decent level of buzz for the night without it getting out of control.

But then there are nights like this past Saturday. Four IPA’s later, I had the genius idea to start drinking whisky. This is not recommended; remember the general rule of thumb:

Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear.

Beer before liquor, you’ve never been sicker.

One glass of Macallan 12 – neat of course, any self-respecting man shouldn’t drink whisky on the rocks; don’t be a pussy – would have left me just shy of oblivion. But alas, rookie mistakes still happen from time to time. I had just one more glass of Macallan, and that put me over the edge.

I would tell you what happened after that if I remembered. It was a #Blackout.

The next day, I went over the horrific details of the night’s end with Emily.

Some of the highlights include telling two friends that they should date each other – so not awkward – and a bar bouncer asking a friend if I’m alright – apparently I was running into people.

There was one thing that Emily pointed out which I found interesting. I asked her if I was at least being funny while I was drunk. Her response was:

One whisky Chris was good. Two whisky Chris was a hot mess.

A regular reader of this blog should be able to tell that I am constantly thinking about the state of men in terms of dating and interacting with women.

Saturday night got me thinking about how men often use alcohol for the purposes of girls. It’s called liquid courage – men use the buzz to give themselves the balls to approach and attempt seducing women. It’s why guys pregame before hitting the clubs.

Here’s my take on this issue – getting buzzed to talk to girls is an easy trick a guy can use, but it won’t make him better at talking to women, and that’s the key, really.

The good thing about alcohol is that for many of us, it will get us into a more talkative state. That’s a big plus for a single man looking to meet a woman out and about. No girl wants to have a conversation with a man and have it feel like talking to a wall.

Being buzzed can also help a man’s energy level. Most communication is nonverbal, and a lot of this is attributed to someone’s vibe. Be the friendly, positive energy guy, and a girl will give you the time of day, unless she’s miss antisocial or miss bitch. In that case, who needs her?

The bad thing about using alcohol is obvious – it impairs judgment. People are more incoherent and make less sense the more buzzed they get. They also forget things like a girl’s name, or other basic information that two strangers would exchange at a nighttime establishment. Men need to be in control of themselves and make sense when they meet women, so let’s not get trigger happy with the beverages.

I suppose the key is finding what works for you. Use drinking to be more social, not reckless. I’ll end it with a quote that we can all think about:

One shouldn’t drink to feel better, but to feel even better.

– Chris.

Thinking Is Bad For Your Complexion

Emily and I spent this weekend in Phoenix visiting her family and friends.

On Friday night, we met up with a few friends in Downtown Phoenix for drinks. For a downtown area, Phoenix is rather quiet at night. There doesn’t appear to be a bustling nightlife center like Mill Avenue in Tempe or Old Town Scottsdale. Then again, it was 100 degrees at 11 PM so why bother being outside.

We hopped around a few bars and eventually made our way to one that was relatively empty. It was a small dive bar with ESPN playing on the TV’s. I had no idea that this was a gay bar. One would think that a gay bar would be a little more happening than this one was, given the recent advances in marriage equality.

There was a group of four girls sitting in the patio area. Emily, being the comedian that she is, challenged me in front of our group. “Why don’t you go over there and find out if they’re on a double date?” Great, I’m being called out by my own girlfriend.

How much of a jackass would I be if I had pussied out in that moment? I’ve been the one challenging my male friends to approach women these days, and now Emily is telling me to approach four girls on my own. Awesome. I began to feel a little intimidated.

Fortunately, I have no shits to give in this department. Challenge accepted. I went over, said hello, chit-chatted for a bit, and ended up finding out that they were hetero and hanging out with their gay male friend. He was actually the meanest one out of the group.

Men, if you’re out at the bars and a friend challenges you to go up to a woman, just do it. Don’t think too much on it; like Ari Gold says, “Thinking is bad for your complexion.”