Put away your calculator, you cad!
And give up logging women into an Excel spreadsheet like cold, hard sums to be measured and sized up in stark little rows.
Dating is not business. Women are not statistics. And this is no road to success.
At least now all of single Manhattan is warned that behind the smile of one obsessive Match.com dater lies a financier with a mound of data. He’s entered you into his files, starting with your name and stats and assigned you a raw score from 1 to 10 based on your “online appearance” before he’s even met you.
The number is convenient, I suppose, for comparing you to the collection of other women currently on his dinner-and-drinks merry-go-round. And it makes it easier to be tallied on his chart. As of Monday, that roster was at least eight and maybe higher.
Spreadsheet Guy, you will not master romance on Excel. Close your files. Log off. Power down.
I am only a year outside your 24 to 28 target age range — and I fear having a fun date with a guy like you only to end up as a line on a spreadsheet.
Of course, trying to find your match is always a game of judgments.
It’s not the fact that you are evaluating potential mates.
It’s the sterile way you are sizing them up and typing out records to keep them straight.
All single women in New York City know but try to forget one simple truth: When you meet a “single” guy for the first time, he’s more than likely already dating multiple other women.
But, Spreadsheet Guy, if you can’t even remember the bar where you had your first date if it’s not in your data dump then things are likely doomed from the start.
I have a male friend who once created a similar system to tally and remember all the girls he had ever kissed. But that was sweet — and lucky for him that private journal, discussed among close friends, remained private.
The “dork” factor of this spreadsheet exceeds any and all dating horror stories — Internet or not.
The queen of dating horror stories, Carrie Bradshaw, once compared men in New York City to cabs.
You have to get them while their lights are on, she theorized. In that little window when they are temporarily available.
But Spreadsheet Guy seems to be cruising around with his light perpetually on — he slows down a little, does some profiling, choosing who to pick up.
The move is illegal on the streets of Manhattan. In dating, it’s enough to make me want to go home and watch Netflix.