If Only Prince Charming Would Trade His Stupid Horse for a Gulfstream, This Could All Be Over a Lot Sooner

Dear Creepy Guy at the Bar the Other Night:

Didn't your mother teach you to mind your own business? If we were interested in sharing our conversation with you, we would have made eye contact, perhaps even introduced ourselves, and asked you to join in. You staring at us and then oh-so-smoothly asking, "So, what are you talking about?" isn't exactly an invitation.

Also, asking us where we live does not say "I'm interested in getting to know more about you" so much as "I'm a stalker and perhaps an axe murderer; get a restraining order now." Just a little tip for the next time you're out on the prowl.

I understand that sitting alone at the bar can be a somewhat awkward experience and you have to find some form of entertainment. However, allow me to submit that that's why there are big-screen TVs with baseball on, viewable from every square inch of this place. And don't forget about the alcohol.

Now, please hush up and drink your beer.

Love,

Me

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Dear sexysacguy:

Huh.

I have to admit, I had no idea who you were when I saw your e-mail in my in-box. But, I like to live dangerously, so I opened it. Ohhhh, right. You. And here I thought it was spam.

I would have thought that our one meeting, a year ago, which I ended rather abruptly, followed by never hearing from me again would have indicated my level of interest, but occasionally I'm wrong. Guess this is one of those times. So, to answer your question, no, I'm not still at this e-mail address.

Thank you for reminding me how much I hate meeting new people, hate dating new people, and really hate avoiding new people I'm not going to date. How you knew I was on the verge of getting back in the game, I know not, but this refresher course was greatly appreciated.

Love,

Me

PS -- There's no point in using a cute little moniker like "sexysacguy" if you're going to then give out your business phone number, Mortgage Broker Chris.

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Dear Walter,

Thank you for a lovely meal last night. You sure know how to make a girl feel special -- don't think I didn't notice that I was the only patron whose napkin you arranged on their lap for them!

However, I just don't think it's going to work out. I'll be the first to admit that short, stocky Italian men with thick accents aren't my first choice, but I might be willing to overlook that in your case. Rather, I think that the three hour drive and your only being available on Mondays would put a crimp in our relationship. I hope you understand.

Please don't hate me for completely ignoring your suggested wine. I promise to recommend your restaurant to all my friends. Best of luck with the ladies.

Love,

Me

PS -- The blond waitress? I think you could have her. Give it a shot.

PPS -- Please find a discrete way to tell your associate that nothing cheapens a nice suit like crappy alterations.

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Dear Creepy Guy on the Plane Last Week:

I know we've already had some fun at your expense, but I can't help adding a little advice.

Do not tell a woman she doesn't need make-up. Ever. Unless you have personally hosed her down and taken a Dove Cleansing Cloth to her face.

Sure, it sounds flattering, but it IS DECIDEDLY NOT. She is probably wearing make-up. She is probably wearing more make-up than you would ever guess. She is probably toting sixteen pounds of make-up and seven make-up brushes in her checked luggage (because there's no way in hell all that stuff will fit in a single 1-quart ziploc bag, eff you, TSA) and likely spends upwards of twenty minutes doing her face on a daily basis. All to achieve that "naturally beautiful" look.

To say that she doesn't need make-up, thereby rendering those thousands of minutes and hundreds of dollars worth of implements unnecessary, borders on insulting.

Also, as someone who aspires to make a fortune selling health and beauty products on the web, good business sense dictates that you ought not go telling women they don't need make-up. Think about it.

Love,

Me

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Dear Universe,

Enough already! I think you've managed to fill my 4th quarter quota for creepy guys and we're only ten days in! What did I do to deserve this??? (Don't answer that.)

Kudos on your technique, though -- I believe this method of keeping me away from the opposite sex is more effective than a chastity belt. Much more annoying, but better results. Damn you.

Please be nice to me. I'll be good, I promise.

Love,

Me