Guest Blogger, Blondie: "Get a Job"

Tags: single

I am an independent, single girl who carries my own groceries to the car and pumps my own gas. I will offer to split the check on the first date, I’m a big proponent of the sports bar, and would even go so far as to pick a movie at Blockbuster (Hangover, anyone?). But I still think there are certain aspects of dating and courting that fall into the guy’s wheelhouse. He has certain relationship “jobs.” Does that make me a cavewoman? Or at the very least, June Cleaver? You be the judge.

For example, I cannot, repeat, canNOT, go up to a guy at a bar. (Unless he’s the bartender and I need a drink.) I was raised in the South, and believe that it’s the guy’s job to come up and talk to me. Sorry, guys. That’s just the way it is. I will most definitely be polite to you – would never just roll my eyes and walk away (although I might roll my eyes after you leave) – but you need to man up and come to ME. Otherwise we can just sit here, across the room, staring each other down and willing the other one to make a move. Never gonna happen my friend.

I’m also not a big initiator of phone calls/texts. (Unless I’ve been drinking. At which point all bets apparently are off.) I need to feel that he is interested enough to get in touch before I can let my freak flag fly (and by that, I mean Facebook-friend him and send him amusing Youtube links via email). One problem I don’t have is responding in a timely manner. In fact, I probably text back a little TOO quickly. (Yes, I’m on the elliptical at the gym. But I can type back “I’m fine. How r u?” in the blink of an eye. I’ve even texted a guy back while getting my hair shampooed at the salon. There were probably some typos, but wanted to make sure he knew I was right there at the ready. Not exactly a bra-burning feminist, am I. But I digress. This is about HIM.

So he did the impossible and called or texted first. His job’s not quite over — the guy also has to set the first date. To show you what I mean, here’s a little (true) story. I have been crushing on a guy at the gym for literally years now. We’ve been chatting more and more, little by little. I don’t think he’s married or coupled up, but really have no way of knowing. (I also don’t remember his name, but our harmless flirting has been going on for way too long for me to ask. His name will be “Gym” in my phone, should I ever actually get his number.) Last week he asked if I play tennis, judging by my predilection to wear tennis skirts to work out. I threw out a “we should play sometime!” and feel that, flirt-wise, I have done my part. It is now his job to take the next step and actually pick a time and place to play tennis. Or have a drink while discussing that it’s too hot to play tennis. The (tennis) ball is literally in his court.