head and she was being kind of snippy not to be flirty, but because she actually genuinely dislikes me.
Email has also gotten me into trouble. Like many guys, I have a lot of nicknames for women in my cell phone—either girls whose names I don’t know, or those whom I felt I would remember better if they were given a descriptive moniker. Some of the nicknames are benign. Others are, you might say, unflattering (e.g., Sergeant Sloppy Tits). Then, several years ago, I got my first BlackBerry. I began emailing away, but soon realized that the girls I was hitting on were either not responding or getting really pissed off. And that’s when I realized that when I set up the BlackBerry, it had automatically integrated my cell phone address book with my email address book. So I had been emailing all these girls and their nicknames were showing up. Fuck me.
----
GLOSSARY
WIDECLOPS
Nickname I coined for a girl whose eyes are too far apart. A telltale sign you’ve spotted a wideclops is that she’s looking right at you but you can only see one of her eyes at a time. This specimen is ornery in nature and generally not pleased when you enter her name in your address book as simply “Wideclops” and then accidentally email it to her.
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Some girls use instant messaging as their preferred mode of online communication. I rarely use IM because I can’t stand to sit there waiting for a response, and most people type (or think) too slow. Plus, I’ve always hated those cliché sitcom moments when a character is about to drop a bombshell, but just before he does, the other character drops a bigger bombshell of her own and then says, “So, what were you going to say?” Cue awkward, contrived pause and canned laughter. That very situation happens almost every day on instant messenger. Sometimes I’ll type a message and am about to hit Send when the other person writes something crazy that makes my unsent response obsolete. I then carefully delete what I was about to send and slowly back away from the computer.
While it’s not my favorite technology, I am adept enough at instant messaging that others have outsourced their needs to me. Shermdog, who is most comfortable chatting up women in person, once got an IM from a chick he barely knew. Seeing the conversation going nowhere fast, he asked me to stand behind him and tell him what to type. A few hours later, he was nailing her. Seriously, I’m like an electronic Cyrano.
FRIEND REQUESTS WITH BENEFITS
I’m not one to exaggerate, but Facebook is the greatest thing to happen to single guys in the history of mankind. In just a few short years, we have been given a tool that not only displays pictures of a girl, but also pictures of her friends, her relationship status, job and education info, and months’ worth of wall posts from which invaluable data can been gleaned. We can ascertain what amounts to a full work-up on a chick before ever even meeting her. It’s just like the individual Citysearch reviews I imagined—only better.
But as with any breakthrough in the game, there are hazards. The first thing to be wary of is the photos. These are obviously the reason men come to social networking sites to begin with, and it’s also where guys and girls engage in information warfare. Women know what they’re doing—they’re standing sideways in every single picture, looking over their shoulder with shadows covering everything else. Hence it’s called Facebook instead of Bodybook. Girls cleverly obscure themselves from the neck down because they know that the only thing guys need is one arm. I just need an unobstructed view of you from shoulder to elbow and I will extrapolate your entire body type in my mind—accurate or not. But women should be careful not to look too good in their profile pictures. You think I can’t spot a glamour shot—otherwise known as the greatest posed picture of you ever taken? Sorry, but I’m moving on to the more extemporaneous
Email has also gotten me into trouble. Like many guys, I have a lot of nicknames for women in my cell phone—either girls whose names I don’t know, or those whom I felt I would remember better if they were given a descriptive moniker. Some of the nicknames are benign. Others are, you might say, unflattering (e.g., Sergeant Sloppy Tits). Then, several years ago, I got my first BlackBerry. I began emailing away, but soon realized that the girls I was hitting on were either not responding or getting really pissed off. And that’s when I realized that when I set up the BlackBerry, it had automatically integrated my cell phone address book with my email address book. So I had been emailing all these girls and their nicknames were showing up. Fuck me.
----
GLOSSARY
WIDECLOPS
Nickname I coined for a girl whose eyes are too far apart. A telltale sign you’ve spotted a wideclops is that she’s looking right at you but you can only see one of her eyes at a time. This specimen is ornery in nature and generally not pleased when you enter her name in your address book as simply “Wideclops” and then accidentally email it to her.
----
Some girls use instant messaging as their preferred mode of online communication. I rarely use IM because I can’t stand to sit there waiting for a response, and most people type (or think) too slow. Plus, I’ve always hated those cliché sitcom moments when a character is about to drop a bombshell, but just before he does, the other character drops a bigger bombshell of her own and then says, “So, what were you going to say?” Cue awkward, contrived pause and canned laughter. That very situation happens almost every day on instant messenger. Sometimes I’ll type a message and am about to hit Send when the other person writes something crazy that makes my unsent response obsolete. I then carefully delete what I was about to send and slowly back away from the computer.
While it’s not my favorite technology, I am adept enough at instant messaging that others have outsourced their needs to me. Shermdog, who is most comfortable chatting up women in person, once got an IM from a chick he barely knew. Seeing the conversation going nowhere fast, he asked me to stand behind him and tell him what to type. A few hours later, he was nailing her. Seriously, I’m like an electronic Cyrano.
FRIEND REQUESTS WITH BENEFITS
I’m not one to exaggerate, but Facebook is the greatest thing to happen to single guys in the history of mankind. In just a few short years, we have been given a tool that not only displays pictures of a girl, but also pictures of her friends, her relationship status, job and education info, and months’ worth of wall posts from which invaluable data can been gleaned. We can ascertain what amounts to a full work-up on a chick before ever even meeting her. It’s just like the individual Citysearch reviews I imagined—only better.
But as with any breakthrough in the game, there are hazards. The first thing to be wary of is the photos. These are obviously the reason men come to social networking sites to begin with, and it’s also where guys and girls engage in information warfare. Women know what they’re doing—they’re standing sideways in every single picture, looking over their shoulder with shadows covering everything else. Hence it’s called Facebook instead of Bodybook. Girls cleverly obscure themselves from the neck down because they know that the only thing guys need is one arm. I just need an unobstructed view of you from shoulder to elbow and I will extrapolate your entire body type in my mind—accurate or not. But women should be careful not to look too good in their profile pictures. You think I can’t spot a glamour shot—otherwise known as the greatest posed picture of you ever taken? Sorry, but I’m moving on to the more extemporaneous
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