Tinder Surprise! Part B…

Pssst…have you listened to Part A yet? The shenanigans continue in the second hour of our Tinder Party… “I just want people listening know we are actually headed straight to church after this…” “Did you hit ‘like’?” “No” “Can I??” … Continue reading

Tinder Surprise!

I’ve been hearing and reading a lot about this new dating app called Tinder. I’m calling it the Candy Crush of online dating, Tinder is often compared to the app Grindr; which was created for gay men…Tinder has been called … Continue reading

The Cooking Question…

Okay. I need to take this to you dear readers…especially you my darling boys.

This has happened to me on more than one occasion and it’s a huge turnoff. A guy will be chatting me up, ask my name (“BB”), my status (“single”), ask one other innocuous question (“marketing”/”Toronto”/”I’m here with friends”) and then he’ll ask…

“Do you know how to cook?”

If you follow me on Twitter, then you know I tend to use my stove as storage. While I do know HOW to cook, can cook a variety of dishes, and have even obtained a recipe from a friend in a club, I HATE cooking. I find it to be the most tedious task in the world. Once, I had a guy stress the importance of handing down our “culture” to our future daughter through cooking. When it happened this past weekend, I asked him why he was asking. His response “well, if I’m going to invite myself over for dinner, I want to know that you know what you’re doing in the kitchen…”

Gah.

Ranting to the BBFF about this and he said he’s never asked that upfront; another guy said it was probably just general conversation. But, it still pisses me off. The BBFF suggested that I take it to the blog…

So guys, I will now ask you: how important is it that she cooks? How important is it that you know this when you have your first conversation with her?

 

A What Happened the Night Before Story…

The Night Before, a night hosted by HLBB and MetAntoherFrog.com is coming up. We’re setting up the night…what happens after that is entirely up to you. I thought I’d share a few “the night before” type stories to give you a few ideas.

Gasp! An actual HLBB story? Yes darlings. Read on:

He was a friend of a friend of a friend and apparently an admirer of mine.  When our mutual friends decided to have their last big summer BBQ a week earlier than usual I initially resisted…ANOTHER summer BBQ? Sigh. Resentful that I had to make my way to the suburbs, my friend promised me that they had arranged for a ride home.

Oh. Yay.

About an hour into the BBQ the friend of my friend says to me “hey, do you remember Tony?”

“I think so.”

“Look, over by the grill. That’s Tony”

Oh. Hello!

I remember Tony. More importantly, Tony was my ride home.

YAY!

The BBQ started at normal BBQ hours (i.e. during daylight) and as the hours progressed and the sun began to fade, the parents, grandparents, and children started to make their way home. Eventually there was only about a dozen of us left…the hosts, the rest of us, and Tony.

With this group of friends, we tend to discuss issues in the big picture way…hypotheticals, theories, etc. This was well before my HLBB days, but the idea of discussing sex and sexual protocol was not unusual. Eventually someone asked, “what about sex between strangers?”

Hmmm. Well…this is not my thing at all and I kept my mouth shut. Then Tony said, “define a stranger. We have spent the last few hours together; talking about a variety of things, but I don’t know any of your last names. Does this make me a stranger still?”

The girl who posed the question cooed (seriously, she cooed), “well, I know I’d like to know your last name….”

While the others hooted and laughed at her response, I cringed. Not just because she cooed, but because the bitch was about to cut my effing grass. Damn me and my lack of flirting skills.

Tony smiled. “It’s Moore. But that doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”

Yes. Silly girl spent the next two hours trying to find out more, but he wasn’t giving up the goods. Eventually it got to last call at my friend’s house – meaning, “we’re tired and y’all need to get the fuck out” – and Little Miss hit her first stumbling block.

She drove herself.

You see darlings, my hostess and my friend had conspired on this evening to set me up with Tony. My hostess (a bright an observant woman) has been monitoring Little Miss’ movements all evening and decided at this point to go in for the kill. She reminds Tony that he promised to give me a lift home. Little Miss pipes up that she too lives in the same direction and would be willing to drive me home (i.e. keep me away from Tony). But Tony reassures us that he will still be able to give the “downtown girl” a lift home. The group says their good nights and I tell Little Miss that it was especially great to see her again.

On the ride home, Tony and I talked more on a one to one level, learning a few more interesting things about each other and reviewing the night in general. Of course, I had to make mention of Little Miss’ “getting to know you efforts”, which made Tony laugh.

“Yeah. She was trying really hard, wasn’t she? I was a little put off actually.”

“Oh, you don’t like women pursuing you?”

“Not really…I enjoy the chase.”

More conversation followed, all related to dating and relationships. He admitted that he even tried online dating, with no success (to look at this man, I just imagined women flinging their panties at him digitally). He even joked that he put “enjoys long walks on the beach” in his profile.

“Oh yeah. That’ll get ‘em responding.” (eye roll)

“But I really do like them! I’ll prove it to you right now. Let’s go to the beach!”

“It’s one in the morning…?”

“And…?”

Y’know. I didn’t have a comeback for that. So off to the beach we went…

Tony dropped me off just as the sun was rising.

He smiled with the last kiss and asked, “so, uhm, are we still strangers?