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I’m completely frustrated.

I’m supposed to go out on a second date in 2 hours and I’m not even sure I want to go anymore… Let me start from the beginning.

Since my most recent complicated and emotional ending with someone special to me, I have been trying to date. Trying being the operative word. I’m on Tinder (which, believe it or not has a high success rate of creating real relationships in Tel Aviv) and I’m on OKCupid. I meet men at the dog park, at the coffee place, on the bus, and other such lovely places in my daily life. Here is the biggest problem I’m facing with nearly all the men I’m meeting these days: they are fucking lazy.

Men seem to expect us, as women who are looking for a relationship, to do all the work. Initiate conversation, flirt, look nice, smell good, suggest a date, plan the date, smile, make conversation, offer to pay, drop blatant hints that we want to go out with you again, rinse and repeat the process for date two.

Here is the example I’m dealing with right now (as in, I need to be dressed and out the door in 1 hour and 45 minutes). I met a man on OKCupid. He’s 37 and a musician but he’s also a teacher and getting his MA in Music and Education. Yofi. We chat intermittently on the app and then he surprises me by asking me out for a date. We went out once. We had one beer each. He paid the bill. He brought me home (well, he dropped me off in the neighborhood…he couldn’t figure out how to stop the car in front of my building despite driving past it 3 times.). It was fine. Not amazing. Not awful. Normal. Uneventful.

Yesterday, he texts me and says “We can meet tomorrow if you want.” This is a weird way to ask someone out but I attributed the weirdness to his poor English and agreed to go out tonight. He said he’d come by to pick me up at 9pm and I agreed.

Today, at 6:30, he texts me and says “I just woke up from a long nap, I ate some hummus…it’s better if we meet later. Ok?”


I asked what time he was thinking and he said between 9:30 and 10pm. Fine, I guess. I wasn’t happy. I told him that it was ok but that 9:30 is better than 10 because Friday night is a terrible night to go out in this city (which he should already know) and asked him what we were going to do. I thought maybe if he had a small hidden spot in mind where the tourists and children don’t go 10pm might be just fine, but in typical lazy male form, he said to me “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

Listen, buddy. I’m the girl and you’re the boy. It’s my job to look pretty, smell nice, and be sweet  all in time for you to come pick me up. It’s your job to make the plan and take me out. Making me do all the work is not sexy.

So I told him as much, but nicer. I said “haha you tell me! I plan things all week! It’s the man’s job to plan the date. :)”

He then tried to tell me that my area is better than his for going out. Tel Aviv is not a giant city. He knows my area just as much, if not better having lived here forever, as I do. I told him that my area is very touristy and crowded, especially on the weekend. He retorted with “don’t you know anywhere we can sit?” I asked, “don’t you?”

Then he suggested that we just hang out at my place and I can “play a concert for him.” At this point, I’m really losing interest in even going out tonight because clearly unless I plan the date, we’re just going to be sitting on my stoop staring at each other because no way is he coming upstairs. You’ve gotta work for that.

So, to give him once last chance to redeem his manhood, I said “don’t count on it. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll figure out a nice place we can go.” Could I be any more clear than that?

His response? “We’ll find something.”

So. To all the men of the world who are looking for a relationship: don’t be fucking lazy. Plan the date. Pick up the girl. Pay for her drink. And treat her like the nice delicate flower she deserves to be treated as, at first. Woo her. Court her. Put some effort into it. A man who can’t make a simple decision like where to take a woman on a date is not sexy.

1 hour and 20 minutes to go. I might cancel.

Is it worth getting dressed, doing my hair, and putting make-up on for this child? I’m thinking no.