Why stop at Dealbreakers Pt. 3 when there are literally endless things that I cannot stand about dudes. Being single has opened the door to a plethora of men who just don’t get it. I’m sorry, but someone has to acknowledge these things and I volunteer myself as sort of an ambassador of dealbreakers… or something.
Here’s the newest batch of things that give me what I like to call “Disgusted Butthead Face.”
I would rather you pick me up in your Honda Civic than a $500,000 Bentley. Who are you trying to impress with that giant pile of expensive tin? Oh, cool, you make enough money to buy the most pretentious vehicle possible because you think chicks like that. I don’t give a shit. In fact, it’s embarrassing. I don’t want to be seen with a guy who thinks he looks cool with a Lamborghini. If you have a Ferrari in your garage that you take to the racetrack, that’s great, but if you think driving around in a ridiculously fancy car is cool, you’re an idiot.
Having Roommates Over 30
My first boyfriend in LA was 33 and didn’t have a roommate. He had 5 roommates. I was 23 at the time and didn’t mind because I didn’t actually have any friends that lived by themselves. His finances weren’t an issue to me because I was at the age where I appreciated men for their character, not their ambition or drive. Oh, how the tables have turned. I assume when men have roommates, it’s because they can’t afford to live on their own. I think by the time a guy turns 30 he should be in a financial position to live solo. I also don’t want to come over to his place and have to talk to some random dude sitting on the couch about True Detective theories.
Leaving a Bad Tip
I went on a date with a guy who had an obnoxiously fancy car (strike 1), and we went to a stupidly expensive restaurant in Beverly Hills (long story). The food was great, but the service was a little slow because it was the waiter’s first night. I have no problem with slow service as long as it’s not terrible. It was this guy’s first night too, so I wasn’t bothered by his small mistakes. At the end of the dinner, my date paid and he went to the bathroom. I had a suspicion that he left a bad tip because he was complaining about the service. I looked at the bill and saw he left less than a 10% tip. What a f’ing asshole! This guy has plenty of money, what kind of point was he trying to make? I quickly took the pen and wrote over the tip to make it 30%. I stood up when he got back to the table so he wouldn’t sit down and look at the bill for any reason. I smiled at the waiter as we left. Don’t leave bad tips guys, especially when you can afford it.
Hot girls have a pass when it comes to posting selfies. No one minds scrolling through half-naked babes in their Instagram feed. Sure, most of them are obnoxious attention whores, but they know that. Guys are allowed to post selfies maybe once every six months, anything more than that and it’s weird. Men aren’t supposed to think they’re attractive. Leave that to the ladies. I don’t care if you have a nice jawline and blue eyes, posting a photo of your face constantly makes you seem full of yourself. I have a guy friend who constantly posts selfies and admits that he thinks he’s good looking and likes the attention. Why? Stop it. It’s annoying. If you can take a selfie of your winning personality I’ll stare at that all day long, but I don’t give a shit about your groomed eyebrows.
Loafers (or “Genie Shoes,” as I call them)
I have a list of very strange things that anger me. One is when a pregnant woman poses for a photo and puts a hand on the bottom of her stomach to show how big she is. I have no explanation for why this makes me mad, it just does. Another thing on the list is when men wear square-toed loafers. I call them “genie shoes” because they remind me of Aladdin. The kind of men who wear loafers are usually the same guys who wear rings and purposely leave the top couple buttons on their shirt undone. Every time I see these shoes I want to stomp on them and scream, “WHYYYYYYYYY?!?!?”