The Brit that ruined accents forever.

Did Heidi and I ever mention that we joined OKCupid one night while we were being drunk and silly? Well I've hardly ever logged on, but the tricky part of that site is that people instant message you while you are on, so it's very hard to not speak to at least one of them.

This guy, we'll call him The Brit, messaged me, I checked his profile, and I wasn't so into it, so I ignored him. Well then he pulled the "Did I not pass your approval test?" line which made me feel like an asshole, so I said hello back, and it went from there. His picture actually was cute enough - he looked like a dark haired, kind of serious but possibly suave British guy with blue eyes.

Boy, can pictures lie.

He asked for my gchat, and we decided to grab drinks that upcoming Tuesday evening. He gchatted with me throughout the day Monday and Tuesday, and we actually got along quite well in conversation. I was actually a little nervous going into the date, hoping that I looked okay and making sure that my hair and make-up were all fresh.

I arrived at the bar at the Ace Hotel and saw him from across the room. I had been worried he might be a little short for my taste, but I could fully see his height upon walking in and was relieved that he was at least 1-2 inches taller than me. Crisis averted.

Til I rounded the corner and got the full view. You know how we ladies sometimes have weight challenges in the 'love-handle' area? Well, I think that the male equivalent is the 'spare tire' zone. And boy, was he packing a spare.

I had never been on a date that had turned out to be chubby, so I was caught off guard for a split second. It looked like he had attempted to be put-together, but something about it all just read 'sloppy' to me... Ugh, no bueno.

So we have our drink at the hotel bar, and then he immediately interjects that he has planned our next destination. Oh goody.

We walk a couple of blocks to an Italian wine bar on E. 28th Street - a cute place, but I totally was over this date already. There just wasn't a physical attraction, even I could admit that, and I don't know what it is, but when someone continually is telling you that you are 'lovely' all throughout any of your conversation, the whole thing just feels awkward.

Of course, The Brit insisted on ordering a bottle at this wine bar, and as I was with Volleyball Guy, I didn't feel badly when I made an excuse to run to the restroom right at the time that I knew the bill would come. Maybe I'm a jerk, but I did not opt for this second destination or a bottle of wine.

He had a third destination planned apparently, but I cut him short and told him that I had to be at a work meeting bright and early and had to get home - it was already pushing 11 pm at this point, and I felt that I had been polite for as long as I could possibly muster.

We left the wine bar, and as I was reaching up to dig in my purse for my Metrocard, he took the liberty of grabbing my left hand and interlocking our fingers. Ew. Hand holding to me is actually somewhat intimate - I'd first make out with someone before I opted to hold their hand even - and I was completely grossed out that he made such a ballsy move. I pulled it away slyly, and kept digging for the Metrocard.

We finally reached my train stop, and I tried to make a quick escape, but of course, The Brit had other plans. He grabbed my hand again and then asked, "Might I kiss you?" in that British accent that I was now completely turned off by. I pulled away and kind of giggled, "Oh nooo, I'm a good girl...I don't kiss on first dates." (Such a lie.)

He accepted defeat, asked for a next date, I eluded that question, and dashed into the subway.

I arrived home to a text, "I had a lovely time. When can I see you again?" I slept on it, figuring out what to do, and I decided to continue with my attempt at positive karma and wrote back, "Thank you so much for a nice evening. I really appreciate your asking, but I just don't think that I felt a romantic connection. I'd be interested in keeping in touch and being friends, if you'd like."

Gosh, I thought that was nice of me. At least I didn't ignore him, which he had mentioned on the date was one of his biggest pet peeves.

His response? "Well that's one bloody way to say good morning."

What a sore loser.

The biggest let down of the date? I think that he single-handedly has managed to ruin any of the Queen's accents for me: British, Australian, S. African...they all just sound annoying to me now. Bummer.

Another one bites the dust.

It's going on two and a half months since Delaware resurfaced and we started our little dating affair. Walks in Central Park, movies in Union Square, dinners in Soho, dinners on the UES, drinks in the East Village, wandering through the Upper West Side, and after each and every date, a return to whoever's apartment was closest. The apartment-return would see us watching movies, sitting on the roof taking in the NY skyline, sipping some more wine, talking, making out, making out, making out.

Which can be fun. When you're 16.

However, these days, I'm a twentysomething professional living in New York City, on my own, in an apartment of my own, and I would seriously appreciate, especially after the two month mark, even just the slightest of a boob graze. (Because let me tell ya, Delaware, your love of dry humping really does not turn a girl on.)

I really don't get it. I've tried to further the situation myself, and managed to make a little bit of progress, so I thought. But only he reaped those benefits, let me tell ya.

The girls and I have had many a discussion on what the issue here might be. Shy? Maybe. Physically incapable? No, shot down that theory the night I took it upon myself to be a bit aggressive.

So after long, careful observation, we've come to the conclusion that I just can't see him anymore. I can't take the torture, and at the end of the day, I do not want to be the aggressor in a relationship.

Therefore, I must say, Sorry, Delaware. I hate to be mean, but I just can't date a 28 year old virgin.

Romancing: The Match.com Way

I received a message from a guy on Match.com asking me about my week, telling me about his, and then rounded out the nice-enough message with: "I have a theory about you, by the way. :)"

Upon reading that last line, in stepped the side of me that gets defensive when people think that they know me before they actually do, so I responded with a short: "Hi, what's this theory that you've got?"

His response: "My theory is that you like men who are optimistic and upbeat because you like those qualities in yourself but at the same time you feel those qualities lacking in yourself and so want a man to fill them. How did I do? :)"

This, of course, brought out my I-don't-need-a-man-to-fulfill-me side, and I got too annoyed with his lame psychoanalysis to even answer.

I kinda feel sorry for him now that I retype all of this... I mean, was this the best pick-up line he had???

Male Logic

Another special date last night. By the numbers...

Inches taller than me: 2
Attempts to kiss me at the bar: 11
Vodka sodas I sucked down in an attempt to make it better: 3
Times I said "OK, I am going to go.": 7
Requests to come home with me: 7
Times I was shoved into a phone both outside for attempted makeout: 1
Minutes it took him to text me once in the cab: 4

So, what I don't get here is - how can this poor guy not take a hint? Or, say, 25 hints?

Discussed with a male friend this morning and got some good insight into male logic. He said it's very clear - because Shawty knew I wasn't interested, he figured he might as well give it all a shot, just keep trying, get as much as he possibly could out of the date. Very interesting. At least he went for the gold. Too bad it kind of makes me want to bathe in bleach this morning.

Life is not a porno.

So don't call me a "sexy slut" when we are doing it. Ew.

I think this is grounds for being eliminated from the rotation. Goodbye, Taye Diggs lookalike and your giant muscles too. It's been fun. Really.