Money For Everything and The Chicks Ain't Free. It's a Remix.

Last week I was watching TV. I'm sure all of the people that read this blog can relate to watching TV. Unless you're Amish. Then again if you're Amish you're also not reading this blog so I'm not sure why I am addressing the Amish community in any way other than to say "Shalom." I'm being told Shalom is not an Amish word so the first part of this post became weirdly anti-Semitic. I blame Christmas. The point is not the Amish, but that while I was watching the "Idiot Box" I found myself watching a dating show. The fact the show was on MTV has no real added value to this conversation, but should be mentioned to point out my intense high brow television watching. The show was called "Disaster Date" and since it's not at all obvious by the title of the program it was about people going out on dates where some sort of disaster occurs. I watched 3 consecutive episodes and not one natural disaster was featured on any said dates.

Typhoons get no respect.

(Aside - We can say what we want about MTV and believe me "we" say a lot of things, but one thing is undeniable. Their show titles are rarely misleading. "16 and Pregnant," Rob Dyrdek's Fantasy Factory," "When I was 17," "Teen Mom," Date My Mom," "Teen Mom 2," and the always popular "Teen Mom Moms: The Last of the Mom-icans" are all encompassing titles. You know what you're getting if you turn on these shows. A lot of mothers. I doubt someone in Olympia, Washington is turning on MTV and saying, "Ah Man! I thought 16 and Pregnant was going to be about 16 pregnant chicks. I'M OUTRAGED. CALL KURT LODER." The reason they won't be saying that is that they are stoned and eating Fritos covered in mustard.)

On "Not a Natural" Disaster Date people have to put up with a horrible blind date for 60 minutes and for every minute they last they get a dollar. The moral of the show is that sometimes you get set up on a blind date and it's so offensively bad you end up with $60 in your pocket at the end. Capitalism. Never change. While I was watching this it got me to thinking about all the bad dates I had been on. That got me thinking to all the good dates I had been on. That then got me thinking to ALL of the dates I had ever been on which got me to thinking why I had wasted all of this time thinking when I really really had to go to the bathroom.

Don't drink when you think.

In my mid 20s I used to think dating was the bee's skis. (Seriously, knees? When have knees ever been cool? The depression and bee's knees? The 1920s had the stench of 4 week old garbage.) You would take a pretty young thing, (or old thing. I'm no ageist) out and attempt to have relations with them. Sometimes if you really liked them you would wait until the second date to make the process more adult. Maybe both of your stuffs got to meet up in a backroom rendezvous for 2, but maybe not. Then you would try it over again with another lovely young (or old) lady and the process began anew. Such is life in the dating world. You go out and then you go out again with someone new because that first someone threw up in your friend’s car. Time is spent with new people and it’s trial and error. Unless you met in high school, which in that case, I have something for you guys.

A big F-U.

You see, as the man, we are supposed to pay for the dates. Sure there are some extenuating circumstances, but every date I’ve ever been on I have paid for. I’m not looking for some kind of pat on the back, but more of some kind of trophy. Probably a trophy of a guy patting me on the back. I understand it is the man’s responsibility (98 percent of the time. DON’T COME AT ME FEMINISTS) to pay for a date and I have no problem with that. I have never let a woman pay on the first few dates and never will. It is the price to pay for not having to carry a baby, never getting menstrual cramps, not having to sit on the toilet, and not having to be outraged at smut like Playboy, Playboy TV, The Playboy Club, and rabbits.

I went on my first date when I was 16. I went on my second date at age 20. Some people would call that a drought. I would call it the Sahara Desert of dating. There was not a dating canteen to be found in the late 90s, but there were some awesome dream mirages. I totally hooked up with Pam Anderson. 37 times. I went on my last date a month ago. So that would be 15 years of dating minus 4 years of drought minus another 2 years of women ignoring me minus another year of women being repulsed by my advances to bring us to roughly 4 days of dating. A long weekend of dating is intense.

After watching Disaster Date I wanted to know how much money I had actually spent dating. I don’t think dating is necessarily a wasteful thing (even the horrible ones) because you’re getting experience and meeting people that will change your life, but at some point the dough (street slang) starts adding up. Dating isn’t cheap especially when you’re a man so I wondered what else I could have bought if I didn’t date and never had the sexual healing. Let’s be honest. I’m still single so all this dating so far hasn’t exactly gotten me where I want to be.

I know Visa will be there.

If I went on more than 5 dates with any one girl I didn’t count it because I think date 6 and on is where most human beings would think it’s ok to start chopping bills. And we all are humans. I’m no dating machine so I’m sure my number of dates in the last 15 years will be less than the majority of people so if you want to also do this exercise I suggest you don’t. You will be depressed and ordering Zoloft. Not the recreationally kind either. In 15 years I have been on 84 dates. 84 real dates where I paid the bill and was getting to know the person outside and, hopefully, inside.

Inside the pants. I’ve gone too far. Sorry Mom.

On some dates it was only one or two drinks, while other dates it was extravagant meals and tickets to happy town so there is no set average. On those 84 dates I have spent (insert drum roll or any other musical sounding interlude. I suggest the oboe) $13,100. That is a pretty accurate guestimate considering I went through my entire bank account and silently wept as I added it all up. $13,100. I’m neither sad nor angry at that amount. But in the interest of full disclosure here is what I could have purchased had I never gone on one date.

43 iPhones

Something from the Heidi Fleiss Menu

13,000 bean burritos from Taco Bell

A 2012 Honda Civic

This house

2 sets of breast implants

Mr. Belding to show up at my private party

One Marty McFly shoe. Not the pair

There is some part of me that wishes Mr. Belding could come to my birthday party, but I can deal with it. Dating can get pretty expensive and maybe that money would be great if it was invested. But what if I never went on those dates? I would be even more boring. I wouldn’t have lived. I wouldn’t have met great people. I wouldn’t have any stories for this blog that no one wants to read about. There have been some disaster dates, but that’s how it goes.

I wish the bad ones paid me back though.