How to Never Get in My Pants, Ever

I met a guy at the bar last week who was so awful, I am going to use him to illustrate the best method to not get in my pants.

1) Make sure you are only attractive when I am drunk, in a dark bar, and missing one contact. Once we got somewhere with lighting, I realized this bargoyle had an uncanny resemblance to Napoleon Dynamite.

2) Have a lame-ass job. IT guy is not a sexy profession.

3) Spill your vodka tonic down my white shirt. Classy.

4) Tell me that since you’re separated from you friends and live far away you’ll have to come home with me. Um, no you won’t.

5) When I go across the street with my sister and company to eat a drunk meal, leave the table before we order, then yell at me when you get back for not ordering for you. How the hell am I supposed to know what you like?

6) Do not offer to pay for your drunk meal. Look, ideally, you would have offered to split the check with the other gentleman at the table. Second best would be you at least offered to pay for my food. Acceptable would be if you paid for your own. You did none of the above.

7) Ask again if you can come home with me. No. This resulted in my running in a cab and slamming the door.

8) Facebook me. Now I can see that you lied about your age. Nice.

9) Ask me if I want to go out to eat lunch in the park this week. Lunch in the park = cheap = no. If you want to redeem yourself at this point, you should take me somewhere nice. Or not. You’d probably make me pay anyway. Cheapskate.

10) When I turn you down, ask me if I want to meet up with you this weekend. Again, that would be a big fat NO. Furthermore, if I wouldn’t give you a lunch hour during the week, what makes you think you can have a Saturday night? I don’t give those away to just anyone.

So there you have it. At this point, there is absolutely nothing Napoleon could do that would get him in my pants. If you want similar results then, by all means, please follow these steps.