Okay, so I should have known this guy was creepy from the get-go. Red flags should have gone way up in the air screaming at me when he told my friend the same night we met that "he was going to marry me" and "I remind him of his mom".  "Yay...(in a sarcastic tone)" was my response, I'm pretty sure.

After meeting one night at a terrible new "club" in Philadelphia, he gave me his business card and asked for my phone number. Young, naive, and I'm sure drunk, I gave it to him.

About a week later, he called to ask me out for a drink at my favorite wine bar in Rittenhouse. This night had all of the makings of a perfect summer night: a few bottles of Pinot Noir, warm temperature, a few fireflies, and a sidewalk table at Rouge. After a few bottles and fantastic truffled zucchini with feta and braised pork, our seemingly perfect conversation left me flying high on clouds as I went to the powder room.

Was Humiliating and Helpful...

"So?" he asked me. "Is there anything else you want to say?"

I was bursting with more: that he could thank his manic ex-girlfriend for gnawing off the root of another of his relationships; that he was an absolute coward for not breaking up with me in person; that he would gain great benefits from the use of Crest White Strips. But I bit down hard and said, "No."

"Good. Well then take care."

"WAIT!" I said. "You should know that right this second I'm heading to Facebook to change our relationship status."

There's this one dating horror story I've heard through the grapevine and I never believed it could actually happen, until it happened to me.

The guy that brings a blind date out to a strip club.

I don't even know if this guy even NEEDS a story - that says it all.

But nonetheless, I will try to recollect the memories of this date..it was over two years ago.

He picks me up in a cab at my apartment and off we go to Old City for a few drinks. A red flag should have been raised when he excused himself to use the restroom and said, "I'm going to use the restroom. Don't leave. (pause) Seriously. Please, don't."

1) The constant status updates that are not funny nor interesting at the least to any form of life that is reading it.

For example: "At the gym" (If you are under 300 pounds) or "Just bought a chicken salad for lunch" (If you' are over 300 pounds)

Who the fuck cares?! Before you know it, it'll be a reflex to update every single thing you do. And no good will come of that for you. In fact you'll probably end up with " At the doctors office discussing a premature ejaculation problem" at some point. Now that, I would read...and take note of.

Many people with a bachelor's degree often contemplate returning to school for a masters education.  Most assume that a masters degree will guarantee a well-paying job and/or lead to better career opportunities.  Unfortunately, this is not always the case.  In many instances, a graduate degree only guarantees more student loan debt.  Also, the opportunity cost(s) involved in starting a job and getting promoted when you decide not to enter the workforce in order to pursue a graduate degree.

Some employers, in fact, place a higher value on a graduate degree obtained after an individual has entered the workforce and gained "on the job" experience.  There are a few things to consider when evaluating whether graduate school is a good idea.  First, will a specific graduate degree lead to economic prosperity? If not, then you might be better off entering the workforce and not accumulating an additional expense of an education that may not pay its dividends.  Also, how much student debt have you already amassed due to your education? If you leave college with a high loan amount that will be burdensome to pay back, then going back to school to obtain more loans may not be the answer for you.

Unfortunately the days when a man would buy a drink for a woman at a bar, and then continue to keep his ass all the way on the other side of the room are OVER! If a guy decides to purchase a member of the opposite sex, they are first meeting, any type of alcoholic beverage it is simply for one reason: Down payment on the pussy!

The more naive women tend to ask obnoxious questions at this point of the conversation like: "Why?" Well the answer to this issue is not something they ever taught us during the after-school specials; but it's quite simple nonetheless. In this day and age, people don't waste their time, or especially their money; on something they won't be reaping the benefits of in the end. And by 'reaping' I mean 'screwing'; and by 'benefits' I of course mean your love pockets. There are no exceptions in this little tid bit. No one's investing in your $10 apple martini unless they have something to show for it at the end of the night. At the very least they want a phone number they can call later on in the week after being struck by morning wood. Or simply just call to breathe into the phone heavily while most likely touching themselves (Note: this particular heavy breathing type is luckily not common to run into. The heavy breathing followed by moments of silence are simply because he doesn't want to wake his mother in the next room)

On the first day of my mission to do Miami, I made a quick run to the grocery store. I needed to have plenty of bottled water back in my room considering I couldn’t possibly risk getting dehydrated during this crucial week. It was go time, and my focus must have been strong as I saw the green light turn on signaling me to cross the street right in front of my hotel room. As I stepped off the curb and proceeded to make my way across Collins Avenue, I saw a red shiny car out of the corner of my eye about half way to the other side. It came to an abrupt halt right in front of me. Slightly stunned, but not willing to stop, I briefly turned my head upward and got a quick glimpse of the front of a Rolls Royce. “Watch it!” I mumbled continuing to cross the street. I was rather annoyed that the driver of this car had almost impaired my physical health for the next week. How was I supposed to pork properly with a bad leg? I plan to leave the whole ‘pimp with a limp’ routine to DJ Laz.

Thank God for honest friends.  Or maybe thank the Devil for them.  I haven’t decided yet.  Today, I was hit with a harsh dose of reality when a good friend of mine told me that she thinks I’m a whore.  Now, my first reaction was laughter – my supreme defense mechanism.  And then I realized, “Holy shit.  This is what my friends think of me.”

A little bit later, I was Boo-hooing to another friend about not having a girlfriend.  This friend so graciously told me that if I want a girlfriend, I need to change my actions.  “What actions?” I wondered.  But she happily confirmed my first friend’s sentiments by telling me that ever since she’s known me, I’ve been a player.

Everyday I’m reminded about the recession is crushing people, how the market is dying, how banks are folding, and how important it is to make wise decisions with our finances. Quite frankly, I had about all I could take with the “investment talk!” Then out of nowhere I had an epiphany from back-to-back Charles Schwabb/E-Trade commercials (shout out to that talking baby, he’s pimp!) see: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TiF-4LbgHn4&feature=channel

It dawned upon me, that as a late 20’s bachelor, infamously known for playing the field freely, maybe it is time for me to think about planning for the future! See I already have the 401k in motion, manage my own businesses, and put together a small nest egg in savings. Sooooo, financially things could be worse. But let’s take the “All State Stand,” how about a little insurance for my future? If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m referring to my dating life not my economic plan.

Short Stories about Miami Mayhem... Enjoy.


What's spring break in Miami without a hot one-night stand (if you like to fuck)? A whole bunch of bored chicks surrounded by blue balls. Not happening under my watch kids, not while I'm still alive and kicking. My inquiry into pursuing this started off from the first night we went out. The first candidate was a model from Milan. Just like most pretty faces I've come on - I mean, across: dense. But seeing as talking to him was not even on the list of top 5 things I'd want to do with him, it hardly mattered.

As the night progressed with him sitting and staring at me, I felt like I was spending the evening with Helen Keller. Sense of humor is the biggest turn-on for me but lack thereof can only be overlooked if they compensate in other departments. Let's find out! As he pulled me up to dance, I realized how drunk I had gotten that night, and it took me a while to figure out what the fuck he was doing.