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A blog - but let's make this a group discussion!

A Gentleman on the Street and a Freak in the Sheets…

Are you happy now Kat? Really? You are an I-D-I-O-T, but apparently I succumb to whatever makes you smile, so maybe I’m the one with issues.

OK people, nothing to see here. That was not the original title of this post, but a certain publicity slut wanted desperately for me to write a post with that title, so there you have it. Interestingly enough, her raunchy title got me thinking about the different personalities of men.

Oh…right…those of you who read this regularly are right now saying “LD – WTF??? We want to hear about that first date! The title told us everything, but we want details!” Ok my little Freakenstein monsters. Do you REALLY think I slept with someone on the first date? Shut up Kat. Let me set the record straight—I did not have sexual relations with that man. I am a fluffin’ LADY. Give me some credit would you?

Now, let the laughter die down.

Are we good?

Alright…that first date. Was quite honestly the best first date I’ve been on in…my memory doesn’t go back that far. He was pretty much everything I thought he was, and more. There’s a limit to how many details I’ll go into, but I will say this: you know a date goes well when you are in a restaurant and the table next to you turns over 4 times while you’re still talking and laughing and having a good time. My deepest apologies to that waitress for monopolizing her table. Oh…and I suppose you inquiring minds want to know was there a first kiss. Yes, yes there was. And I have to say if it turns out that it was my last first kiss, it was a pretty damn good one, and comes with a really cute story. But no, you all don’t get that. Leave me SOMETHING private, would you??? Jeez. Will there be a second date? Already happened last night. A third? We’ll see if he asks me out again soon…(and for the record, I know you’re reading this Mr…you already know these are not the droids you’re looking for…move along…)

Back to the topic at hand, and why Kat’s tagline got me thinking. Our mystery man was a consummate gentleman in the sense that my Dad likes. He checked on me when I was en route. He actually opened doors – didn’t just open them, but chastised me when I reached for one (a nasty habit that I apparently need to be broken of). He walked on the curb side of the sidewalk when we walked. He took me to my car. He wanted me to call him when I got home to let him know I’d made it. Even when he asked me out, the specific words (and words matter to a writer) were “When can I take you out?” – not when can we hook up, not when can we meet. OK, these are in some ways small things, but they’re not.

As we all know I’ve been a serial first dater. And let me tell you, of all the dates I’ve had in the last insert fuzzy number here years, I can count on one hand the number of men who have demonstrated even a basic level of courtesy. Doors held open? Doesn’t happen. Waiting for the lady to sit first? Nope. I know, we are all empowered women who can do whatever we want without relying on a man…blah, blah, blah, bullcrap.

It’s not about what I’m capable of doing. It’s about being made to feel like I’m special. Like I’m worthy of someone’s care and consideration. It’s about being treated like a fluffing lady. Because despite rumors Kat and Becca have started to the contrary, I am one. We women all are—some of us could use a little reintroduction to our lady side,’s there…just very deep for some. Digression. I’m not saying that it is a man’s duty to put us up on pedestals and treat us like porcelain dolls. I firmly believe that a relationship should be a true partnership. But I also firmly believe that in a heterosexual relationship both genders should feel like the person they’re with values what’s so great about them as a member of the opposite gender. DISCLAIMER: I know darn well that in homosexual relationships there is JUST as much a need for courtesy and care and we’re just discussing boring heteros.

I think every woman should have a man who demonstrates that chivalry isn’t dead. I also think every man deserves a woman who can show him in some way or another that 1950s era sensibilities of taking care of your man aren’t dead either. It appalls me how far we have taken a need to be independent. We need to understand that it isn’t a sign of weakness to be shown courtesy. Emily Post’s rules of Etiquette are just as appropriate today as they ever were. People just have learned to disregard them randomly. Why? It’s what makes society nice. It’s not about conforming to an ideal. It’s not about subservience or submission. It’s about treating one another with kindness and concern. Placing value on one another in a demonstrable way.

It’s about not being rude.

So to my mystery man (you just couldn’t help yourself could you?)…I sincerely appreciate who you are and the things that you do, and have no problem telling you that. I hope more men can learn to demonstrate the same level of commitment to being gentlemen that you have. It’s incredibly refreshing. And for the record, you can fix me a plate anytime, and try not to be surprised when I buy YOU dinner.

To the rest of you who are wondering about the “freak in the bed” part of Kat’s title, if/when I do find the answer to that question, I’m sure as $*@# not telling you people! Are you kidding me?!?!?


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