Achoo, Achoo, Achoo...You're Gonna Love Me!

In the earliest days of our sexual education, we are separated into two rooms.  Boys and girls.  No one talks about what happens in the other room, but we are lead to believe it is because the items discussed are too new/confusing/embarrassing and the teachers are just protecting our feelings.  To that I say "BULL SHIT!"  I'm convinced that while we women are being informed of our monthly servitude to appease the gods, or being threatened with a disease ridden life if we don't keep it locked up, the boys are getting a lesson of a different nature.  You know what lesson I'm talking about...the lesson of how to seal the deal.  I think the lesson taught to these young, ignorant boys goes something like this: "There comes a point in every night when there is no going back.  You have to go all in, or not at all. If you don't seal the deal soon, you are going home....alone.  SO, put on your big boy panties and getchu some!"  You know, Mean Girls style....but in reverse..."You must have sex. Or you'll die. You must have sex in missionary position.  You must have sex standing up....Just, just do it, ok?"  If this isn't correct, then the Department of Education, or a bunch of angry Mid-Western moms (Mom, you already have my address..so that's easy) are more than welcome to send me a strongly worded letter. For now, I maintain this thought. 

Put my thing down flip it and reverse it.  That's the lesson.  Got it?

And it's always been this way. Since the dawn of time. Time dawned, boys and girls split into two factions, girls made a meatloaf, guys made up terrible pick up lines. Even our favorite romantic-y, old-timey movies are testaments to this! How often have we seen our boys on the silver screen fall in love at a mere glance? The only difference is that in the days of yore, the guys would cut their losses, pick a bitch and propose. Sure, they're not gonna get a different girl every night, but they are going to get consistently laid. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers those chicks and lets roll! But not now. Oh nooooooo, not now. Guys have evolved into these predators that hunt the most dangerous game: women. Its the food chain people! Boys hunt girls, girls hunt shoes, shoes hunt... uh... thats it. Its a short chain.

These cheesy pickup lines, while always prevalent, seem to really flourish at a certain time of day....or night...or morning?  It is a little difficult to classify whether it is night or morning.  Day is definitely out...because it is dark out...so that means late night or early morning. "Get to the point, Caitlin!"  I am!  Geez... The worst time of day for any woman to be out?  2:00 am.  If you are out, get home as quickly as possible, take cover in a storm shelter (which I've yet to see in NYC),  better yet, dress up as a man and start yelling profanities at nearby women, because you are no longer safe.  I'm not exactly sure the science of it, since I wasn't in the boys room in 4th grade, but by using some deductive reasoning, this is what I've gathered: Every man, in every bar/on every street/pretty much everywhere, receives some sort of sexual Bat signal that their lives will end in approximately 45 minutes if action isn't taken. Use whatever creeper techniques necessary, but GETCHU SOME! 

What I assume the Bat signal for men looks like...except not on a mudflap.

"Kids, nothing good happens after 2a.m." -Grown Up Ted Mosby once said. So I guess Bob Saget actually said it, but whatever. And he's right. The guys get the Bat signal and then, ladies, do what all the bad guys in the Batman movies never did: get the fhack off the street and GO HOME! Guys will try anything, say anything, pretend to be anything, to get you to go home with them. Our mothers always told us growing up "Boys are only after one thing." And then something about there being no supply and demand for cows that hand out pre-churned ice cream cones for free ... Thats the saying right? Anyways, there are a few ways to tell if a guy has chosen you as a target. They may offer to buy you a drink, knowing the bar is closing, and then be all like "well, I have wine back at blah blah blah." OR they may want to show you something nifty at their apartment. Which is like the least stealthy thing ever. NEWSFLASH! There is nothing that I will go see at your apartment at 2a.m. unless it happens to be the frozen head of Walt Disney. Guess again. No.

Believe them.  Look how sad they look.  Don't look like this.

Needless to say, no matter how many fruity-tutty-flirtini-rape-in-a-glass drinks he offers to buy you (or has already given you), run away.  Trust us.  We've met some grade-A creepers all for the sake of this blog (so a little gratitude might be nice.)  The later it gets, the more the crazy shows, and crazy isn't a good color on anyone.  Except for maybe Lindsay Lohan....wait..nope...not good on anyone.  Our best advice: Grab your bestie, pretend to be sick or secretly in love, and shake your hot asses home.  

(Quick Tip: To accurately portray lesbianism with your bestie, touch each others faces a lot and giggle. It always works for us.**)
As for us, we will continue to scour New York City for some hunky/nerdy men.  We are almost certain they exist.....maybe.

**This almost never works for us...and by almost never, I mean it is always completely unbelievable.