JUST GIVE HIM A NICKNAME

I’ve been back in the dating world or as most single women call it, “hell”, for about three years now. I have several girlfriends who are also single and actively dating and of course, we talk, OFTEN, about the pain and pitfalls that have come with many a dinner, drink, coffee, phone call and/or text message that accompanies any and all our encounters with future prospects.  

The problem is how to keep track of what date did what and/or said to whom. In the beginning, my friends and I would say the guy’s first name and then proceed to share what it was that made us want to yell at him, not yell at him, kiss him, not kiss him, have sex with him, never touch him, give him a second chance, not give him even a first chance and of course dissect his every word, every nuance and his body parts.

Greg, Robert, Thomas, Steven, David, Mark, Michael, there are millions of them and it was not unusual for at least two of us to have dated, been dating, talked or texted back and forth with a man who went by one of the above names or something equally as popular. “Which Greg?” “Is that the David from Manhattan Beach or Hollywood?” “Mark with the dead mother or the one who lives with his mother?”  

As a result, my friends and I decided that the best way to handle all the confusion would be to just use nicknames.  For example, there was “Real Estate Guy” for the man who didn’t want to date me so much as try and sell my house. “Potentially Ugly Guy”, who posted one picture of himself indicating he was not at all attractive and another showing he was kind of cute or maybe it was just that he photographed well at one particular angle. There was also “Coupon Boy”, the guy who took me on a second date to a notoriously bad movie because he had two free coupons to the theater given to him by a hospital as a thank you for donating blood. “Stupid Trainer Guy” who, on a first date with my friend, whispered to her in a quiet sexy voice, “I’m hot” only for her to find out later, from the man himself, that he wasn’t talking about how he felt when he saw her but rather how he felt about himself on a daily basis. “White Trash Man”, a 40 year old guy who smoke and drank like a every day was New Years and left you asking yourself, how old is too old to not have a checking account? and my personal favorite “Epileptic with the Mini-Van” which I believe doesn’t beg any further explanation.

We now reserve the use of first names only for those that matter, the one’s we feel have real potential. I know for me that the one guy who broke my heart will never have a nickname unless of course, “the guy who broke my heart” qualifies as one.