“Are you free tomorrow night?” he texted.

Ugh. I hope you blog readers appreciate what I do for you because I really didn’t want to go out with this guy, but continued to talk to him since he seemed like someone I could blog about.

It was his second chance. A few months ago he asked for my number and never called. Then last week he contacted me and asked me again. I was feeling gratuitous, and so I gave it to him again. He texted me, and I regretted giving him my number. Again.

His grammar and spelling were atrocious which for me is an immediate turn-off. But, again, I decided to be nice and overlook that huge flaw with my mom’s words floating in my head, “Not everyone can be as smart and pretty as you are.”

So, I said yes I was available the next evening after my photoshoot.

“Okay. Can you meet me in Irvine?” He asked. (First of all, Irvine is a good 40-minute drive, though–one I make often  and second, that’s how he is going to ask me out on a date?!)

So I responded with a snarky, “For?”

“Dinner? Drinks?” was his response.

I told him that I didn’t want to drive all the way out there again after working all day, and he responded with, “Okay. Maybe next weekend then.” What happened to the days where a man drove and picked up a woman (and dare I say, brought her flowers?)

And with that, his name was crossed off the list permanently. Three strikes. That’s two more than I usually give. It’s not baseball people.

When I was in elementary school, I quickly learned that if I tried hard, I still got the pats on the back that I craved without actually doing what I was supposed to. For example, in P.E. I couldn’t hit a ball during softball to save my life but if I went out there and swung a few times, the teacher always praised and encouraged me and have me an A. And as an Asian girl, all I wanted was an A and a pat on the back (see yesterday’s post, haha).

I just don’t see men wanting to put out any effort to court or work for a woman anymore. Maybe I’ve read too many romance novels, but I expect a little more than a caveman with a club dragging me by my hair into a cave.

In the case of this man, he didn’t even ask me out properly nor did he offer to drive to meet me or even meet me halfway. Really? (I’m usually more than happy to drive somewhere, by the way).

Recently, I had a man tell me that we lived too far away from each other. He lives 45 miles away from me, and when I move in a few weeks, we’ll live 30 miles away from each other. Really? Or my favorite is when I ask a man what we’re gonna do or where we are going to eat, the response is, “I don’t know. What do you want to do/eat?” For once it would be nice for a man to tell me that he planned a nice date doing this and this and that he’d pick me up at this time. (I know, I know. In this day and age, people can be kind of creepy, so I wouldn’t want to have him know where I live just quite yet…)

Put in a little effort guys, come on.

Each experience it seems is just setting my standards bar a little higher. I’m getting less and less tolerant of poor behavior and what I will or won’t put up with. Sorry if you think I’m being bitchy but I’ve lived too many years as a doormat, and I’m finally (slowly) realizing my self-worth. A man’s gonna have to work to get me. And if that means I’m in danger of becoming a little, old, crazy cat lady, so be it. Even if I’m allergic to cats…