Proxee Consultancy

Anyone who's ever been part of the dating world knows that the "first" of "first date" is almost always synonymous with "only". From the moment you realize he has no intention of opening that door for you, to the awkward moment when you realize your dress and heels are completely inappropriate for a surprise date hike, to the pause by the doorstop when you reluctantly admit that you "would rather stab yourself in the eye with kabob sticks than let his lips go anywhere near you" (paraphrased)... things can go fantastically, horribly wrong.

These aren't the dates we're worried about. Having a Date-From-Hell story is practically a rite of passage for women, something we can bond and giggle over while we distract ourselves with frozen yogurt on a completely date-less Friday night. Nothing says sisterhood like sharing the time your date called your mom a whore (I wish I was kidding).

No, we're more worried about the other dates. The non-spectacular failures when your roommates demand a play-by-play and all you can say is "eh". Or worse, the non-dates where you are stuck in hanging-out limbo but the guy still has the expectation of making out with you.

Dear Romeos: we know we can seem hard to get sometimes. Ever considered using different bait?

Proxee Consulting is officially open for business.

"Proxee is not like other dating services. We don’t match up, hunt singles, or play cupid. We stand in proxy for the person of your dreams, giving you practice, tips, and advice to help you be a winner on that first date. Consider us a dress rehearsal, your coach in the corner, the final run through before the actual date. There are several basic tricks when it comes to dating, and we’ll clue you in on them." (see our website for more information)

For the Guys:
The Date and Review: You take one of our Proxies out and we'll give you a comprehensive review afterward with individualized feedback about your performance.
Ask the Proxies Personal Email Session: If you just have a quick question about women, dating, or anything else you think we might be able to help with, shoot us an email.
Image Consultancy: Customized tips about personal image and wardrobe.

Our blog will be updated a few times a week with general advice, dating fail stories, and dating success stories. If you have a story to share or you want to be a guest blogger, let us know! We'd love to hear from you.

Love,
Your new Proxee

P.S.: Check out Danielle's post too!

Bullets Dodged: 2

"Wanna buy a magazine? ...Wanna have sex?"

I love men. I do.

I love the way they smell, and when their hair is just long enough to really run my fingers through, and how they take charge, and get flustered, that no matter what size they are they are perfect for cuddling with. I love that they will never understand my mismatched fuzzy socks, how they want to fix things, how rough their hands are, and their three day face stubble. I love their deep voices and the way they act more than they talk.

I'm grateful for the amazing men in my life that show me what a real man looks like.

Because we are getting lazy. Men and women alike have cultivated so much liberty that it has grown wild, trampling over decency and respect, and breeding like bunnies to create the social evolutionary beasts of entitlement and self-importance.

This particular race of bunny is called "Youtube Comments"

It appears that some of these rabid bunnies have infected a few of the men in my area. I present to you: Bullet #2.

The salesman came into my life via my roommate, who let him in for a "glass of water" (always a ruse girls. Always.). Thinking he was a friend of hers, I wasn't weirded out when he called me beautiful and we started talking. He played the "I'm in Utah and I know what you want to hear" card and said he was talking to missionaries and wanted to be baptized. We made a few jokes, and he got down to business. He mentioned that he was selling subscriptions to magazine, my inner eyes rolled, but I let him do his thing. Then I told him no.

Stage 1: Boy. Loses. His. Mind.

He started talking about how much money he would make if we said yes, then how the program really worked, then how the college kids around here are (expletives). He started swearing and my roommate left to go back to her room.

Stage 2: Sanity travels southward.

As soon as she left, Salesman started talking again about how beautiful I am. How pretty my lips are. How much he wants to kiss them. Do I drink alcohol? Do I like black men? Have I ever been with a black man before? Am I a virgin? Can he have my number? No, really, I'm a virgin? Can he change that?

Stage 3: Boy gets booted out of the apartment.

And thank goodness he left fairly easy because I was two seconds from calling Mexules over to come help me.

Is there a lesson here? Sure. Being a salesman and asking a potential buyer for sex makes you a prostitute.

Bullets Dodged: 1

"IT is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single mormon woman in possession of a good features and a decent cookbook collection must be in want of a husband.

However little known the feelings or views of such a woman may be on her first entering a university, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding students, that she is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their brothers."

In other words: "You're single? Whyyyyyyy??"

I am stuck in the limbo that is age 22. In my view, the world is wide open and I have both the years and the passion to enjoy it. To a growing number of people, I am "alone, but you still have time! Have you tried internet dating/hanging out in the library/screaming to the world how desperate and lonely you inevitably are?" girl.

For some reason, it is incomprehensible to them that even without being on a guy's arm, I have enough friends, hobbies, and plans to feel completely satisfied. I don't feel the need to be swept off my feet so badly I'll knock my own legs from under me to get there.

Plus, I love adding new books to my dating fail library.

I went out with Dancer-Man last night. He started off doing all the right things; he called to ask for a date a few days in advance, picked me up on time, opened my doors, and took me to a decent restaurant. We quickly realized that we had little in common...at least, I realized. He wouldn't know, since he effectively muscled his way into conversational dominance.

Here's a brief excerpt of our night:

Him: (30 minute discourse on his childhood book favorites). So what books do you read?

Me: Well, I like...

Him: And don't say Twilight. Or Harry Potter. (5 minute explanation for why they are horrible).

Me: But I don't like Twilight.

Him: What? But all girls like Twilight! (Long explanation about how girls like the bad boy, blah blah blah, so I must like Twilight or I should turn in my license to wear a bra).

Me: (Eyes roll.)

Waitress: (Cracks up.)

Another little gem was when I told him my older sister looked nothing like me and he immediately (in a clearly not-joking tone) accused my mother of having multiple affairs and that's why my parents divorced.

Other fails: taking off your retainer at the table, assuming I'd enjoy splitting a drink and then whining about the flavor I chose after the waitress left, making a big deal about paying the bill, forgetting your card at the restaurant, trying to chat (and nudge) me up during the entire (dollar) movie, and whining about where we sat.

Forgive me for not being swept off my feet.

The best part actually came after the date, when he sent me a series of passive aggressive texts that simultaneously insulted me and asked when he'd see me again.

So thank you, Chatty Dancer. You really know how to make a girl (and her closest friends) laugh. ;)