Six-Omega: Highly Ineffective Dating
On the record? Six-Sigma is a piece of garbage. Hence the title. That’s it.
“Fuck up” can mean so many things, so rather than use it as a profanity, I’d rather use it as a verb. Adjective, perhaps, maybe an adverb. A participle of complete and utter sucktitude and blowedness.
To spare you the neologisms: I fail at dating.
I’ve had a handful of dates before, but it’s a problem with counting – and a heck of a lot of pride – that keeps me from making them public. OK, okay: you have more fingers in one hand than I ever had dates.
That doesn’t mean that I can’t lay claim to some degree about knowledge about dating. You do learn a lot from failure. Epic, complete, total failure. Seeing as I have a romantic movie in mind whenever I dispense with love-advice, here are some of Marocharim’s tips on how to NOT fuck up your Valentine’s Day date…
All based on personal experience.
And… here we go.
1. Avoid canned gifts.
I’m not talking about literal canned gifts, although I’m guilty of giving a date the very meaningful gift of Bearhuggz. Yup, gifts that come in a can. Not that it’s wrong, it’s just that you can show how much you love and appreciate your date in much better ways than doing this:
- Go to Blue Magic at 3:00 PM.
- Buy a stuffed toy (preferably one that comes with an artificial scented rose: fast, cost-efficient, easy to handle).
- Write a short note on the card that comes with the gift bag.
- Give the gift to your date at 5:00 PM.
2. Get intimate, up close, and personal.
There’s a difference between a chivalrous knight in shining armor, and being a guy with a permanent wedgie. When you’re pushing 20, cooties no longer exist. It’s okay to hold your date’s hand. If she consents to the first kiss, just go for it. You don’t want to end up approaching your mid-twenties without having had a kiss and having a standing record of a 20-second HHWW.
Trust me. You can make a cup of coffee in 20 seconds. The only thing that makes me a bit proud of myself right now and prevents me from contemplating wrist-slashing is that I lasted longer in HHWW than standing medical records of erectile dysfunction.
3. No bridge, no backup.
Ever the torpe, I completely relied on bridges and backup. I simply cannot go on a date without friends on the look-out for a fuck-up. The worst part is that I had absolutely no idea my date knew that I had friends around to give me some gestures or cues about the whole plan of action… as well as a heck of a lot of heckling.
To my credit, I wanted things to be perfect, but the dates came across as rather scripted and insincere. When dating, be spontaneous, act natural, and don’t let your friends in on your intimate moments.
4. Scrap the war room plans.
One of the worst ideas I had was to formulate a comprehensive, codified strategy for every situation I can think of, right down to the worst-case scenario. I even had this notebook complete with detailed, tactical and strategic plans (in bullet-points) for every possible situation that may occur on the date I planned.
In case anyone’s wondering, that date never pushed through. So much for Plans A through G.
5. It’s not “dinner,” it’s a freakin’ date.
Date: So you’re planning to take me on a date?
Me: No, I’m planning to take you out to dinner… you know, idle chit-chat.
After a meal at a romantic restaurant at a romantic spot at very romantic Session Road:
Date: That was a nice… dinner. (Flashes smile.)
Me: Uh… yeah… nice… you know it was more of a dinner-date… in a non-romantic sense of course… well, it wasn’t a “date” date, more like a way to cap the evening… (continues mumbling)
Enough said… not like I said anything of value.
6. Spare the movie lines and song lyrics.
Ever the sap, I relied on some rather cheesy lines to win my date over. Movie lines and song lyrics (oh yes, I used them), all incorporated into the very interesting modes of communication available for me to exploit… I mean, use:
- Text (ever reliable, ever overused).
- Love letters (I still write them from time to time).
- Friendster messages (I didn’t write Testimonials, so yeah, still pretty much safe).
Did I ever talk to my date, and by “talk” I mean “talk” talk? Lemme put it this way: you have way more toes on your two feet than I ever did talking. Take my advice: hit the “Eject” button on the romantic movie in your head. Play it cool. Act natural. It’s just a date, not When Harry Met Sally.
So… will I ever learn to stop mumbling? Will I ever have a date who’ll not make a collection of plushies? Will I ever last more than 20 seconds in HHWW?
Well it’s not like I’m the worst boyfriend anyone has ever had… but if you have two arms…
Aw, screw this.