Prada and the Fine Art of Goal Oriented Dating

"While I fantasize about a life that doesn't so closely resemble hell"-Brad the "efficiency expert" reading Lester Burnham's (Kevin Spacey) job
description in American Beauty

Women date the way men shop for shoes. When a man goes shoe shopping, he knows exactly what he wants. He knows the size, the style. He knows what he wants it for ( sports, casual, work). Some men know what they want so specifically that when their old shoes wear out, they order the exact same style and size online. Men know what they want, exactly, when it comes to shoes, and that is all they want. No innovation, no discovery, no surprise. Men can't handle that whole woman thing of "Oh they look like they have nice shoes, so I thought I would just walk around and take a look and see if they have anything I want."

Women date in the same manner, particularly women over the age of 25. No woman goes into a date with a "Hmmm wonder if I'll find anything here since the window looks so nice" approach. I gotta spend time picking an outfit, doing hair, make up, suffering through high heels and a push up bra sometimes even a tight skirt-yeah you're damn right I go in with an expectation, with a goal. If I was just "window shopping", I wouldn't bother wasting half my day modeling ensembles for my cat.

So when I go out, what do I want? What am I looking for? What is my "goal"?

I want quality. I want serious quality. I want something that is going to last for years. I want something that is versatile-not just good for casual encounters, but something good for a nice night out too. Something dependable. And I'm willing to sacrifice appearance for comfort and enjoyability. I don't want something gorgeous that lasts of fifteen minutes and then makes me regret having feet for the rest of the night. I don't want something that may look good to others, but causes calluses and blisters and hip dysplasia. I don't want the same pair that every girl on the block in wearing. I want quality, comfort, and, dare I say it, staying power.

Now where does such a rant come from?

Well may you ask.

Farm Fresh, the guy who says that I'm perfect, exquisite, adorable, gorgeous, well, he doesn't, apparently, want to be my boyfriend. Now I know, it's only been two weeks, but when he calls you the one day you don't see each other and says he misses you and so forth, thinking he might want to be my boyfriend isn't generally a stretch, but no, at the end of our quiet new year's eve together he says that he is thinking of calling this other girl, this girl he barely knows, and asking her out on a date. Oh, but he doesn't want things to change between us.

Uh, ok so you want to date some other girl, which means that potentially you might like her better and leave her for me ( but really if I'm perfect, what are the odds of that? Or perhaps some of us are more perfect than others?), or even if that doesn't happen, you can ask out whoever you want, and that isn't supposed to change our relationship?

Can you see now why there is a vital need for logic and reason to be taught in schools?

I told him if he wants to open that door, that's fine with me, but remember I live by the rule of quid pro quo and he has A LOT more to lose with that proposition than I do. I get offers just crossing the street ( indeed today alone I received two offers for dates). So if he wants to take that risk, he has to understand exactly what he is risking.

I also know that very few women in NYC will date a guy without at least the promise of future relationship development.

And, as we have seen, eventually everyone comes crawling back to Bunni. If he wants to join the club of men who later vehemently wished they had treated me better, I can give him some numbers so they can start a support a group. ( Duke Nukem in particular has been pining for me for four years.)

So if he calls this weekend, I'm out. If he calls me on "playing games" I'm going to tell him how it is. When it comes to relationships, I want prada. I deserve prada. I'm going to get prada.

And if you aren't prada, and you don't think you can ever be prada, then get out of the fucking way so that I can get to what I want without having to pole vault over your head.

And I realize that to some men likening them to a pair of shoes is, well, insulting, but the truth is I have had much healthier, longer, and more fulfilling relationships with my shoes than most men in New York.
And now from news for the stable positive male influence "in my life"

Although we've never met, and he's married (typical) Billy has won the title of the stable male influence "in my life." Go there and give the guy a hug, seems like he's feelin' a little down, and it's too early in the new year for that kind of behavior. Go cheer him up.

What is it about New Year's Eve that provokes odd behavior in ambivalent men?

It seems that I am not alone in my suddenly being contacted by some guy who couldn't even be bothered to break up with me in November. Personally I think it's the drunken pondering of ringing in the new year without a snog that makes them suddenly present themselves to us in a way sort of.

Or maybe it just goes back to my theory that eventually every man you give your number to will call back.

Right, Nygma?

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