An Open Letter from Every Single Woman I've Ever Met to Pretty Much Every Single Man I've Ever Met
Dear Man I Have Spent Hours of Attention On:
You, yes, you. The one I sent dozens of texts and emails to. The one I have invited over for dinner more times than I can count. You, the guy I spent an hour after church flirting with. You. Yes, YOU! There is something we need to discuss.
You need to ask me out on a date.
Do I need to make that clearer? A date. It's this thing where one person (preferably the man) asks another person (in this case a woman, namely me), to leave home, and spend a few hours enjoying each other's company.
It is not a withered piece of fruit.
Although, if you don't figure out this concept soon, I may turn into a withered piece of fruit.
This issue has come up enough recently that I feel if I don't spell it out for you like this, I may spontaneously combust. Or kill you. Or both.
I’m pretty sure you’re not even aware of what you’re doing or why it bothers me.
Ask me out.
I know you think we have a good thing going. After all, you are getting free meals, ego boosts, and even the occasional back rub out of this deal. But as of this moment I am cutting you off. And I will tell you why.
When a man asks me out on a date with a plan for a day and a time and a place, I know he has the confidence to actually ask me out on a date!
There is absolutely nothing more attractive than a man with confidence to be a man! And you do want to be a man, don't you?
Don’t ask me to hang out with you. Don't volunteer to just “come over.” Don’t ask me if I’m free “sometime.” And don't even consider texting to see “what's up” after 1 pm on a Friday.
Ask me out on a freaking date. Just you and me at a preset date, time, and place.
Why is that so hard to figure out?
I have been talking to you, haven’t I? I have organized how many parties and group movie outings just to get your attention? I have emailed, texted, IMed, and even talked on the phone with you (I admit you were not crazy about that almost very personal interaction of using your real voice and speaking on the phone).
We have hung out until I can't take it anymore. We have communicated in the most impersonal ways possible for far too long. That is why it has come to this decree. I don't plan the parties, text, and hang on your every word because I want to stay in tlimbo forever. Of course I am “interested” in “hanging out” “sometime.” We already do that ad nauseum. I am not doing it for my health, or because I have nothing better to do with my time, or because you are so witty and fascinating the way you don't use capital letters or punctuation via text or IM.
I am interested in you. If I wasn't interested in you, we wouldn't be communicating.
Let me say it again in plain English.
I want you to ask me on a date.
I want the date to have a day of the week.
I want the date to have a time.
I want the date to have a place. The kind that has an address attached to it.
Also, an indication of what we may do when we are at the same place at the same time would also be great. (Dinner? A walk? Trapeze lessons? I just want to be prepared.)
I'll tell you what, I want this to be easy on you. I understand a bad economy can make it difficult financially to socially support two individuals. I will pay for myself. We can do something very inexpensive or free. (Walk around a park and get ice cream cones? Sounds great! Let's do it!)
Let me repeat. I do not want to hang out with you anymore. I do not want to text with you. I do not want to sit in your friend's living room and watch a football game. I don't want to go to a church party. I WANT TO SPEND ONE-ON-ONE TIME WITH YOU.
Is that really so hard to comprehend?
I hope you don't feel like I am being too harsh here. I'm just at my wit's end. I've been waiting for a guy as great as you to come around for a really long time. I think you are great.
I WANT TO SPEND ONE-ON-ONE TIME WITH YOU. (And a lot less time staring at my smartphone.)
The only thing I want to change about you is that you seem to lack the confidence to man up and ask me on a date!
I want to tell you this, not just for my own personal gain, but for the happiness of all women around the world. We absolutely love it when a man has the guts, confidence, bravado, wherewithal, and what have you, to ask us on a date. The longer it takes for you to cowboy up, the less we are impressed. We hate pulling out the sledgehammer to hit you over the head. Sledgehammers are heavy and very hard to wield, and sometimes they fall back and hit us instead. Be a knight in shining armor and save us from the sledgehammers.
But more importantly, when a man asks me out on a date with a day of the week and a time and a place, I know he has confidence (to actually ask me out on a date). And there really is nothing sexier, appealing, or more attractive than a man with the confidence to have a plan.
I know you are scared to ask me on a date. I know you’re afraid I might say “no.” You’re afraid I might think you’re ugly, unfunny, boring, that you don’t make enough money, or any number of things. I get it. You’re afraid of rejection. I’m afraid of rejection, too. (The sledgehammer hitting me on the head was a witty reference to what rejection can feel like.) We are all afraid of rejection.
I know how scary it is for you to ask me out. It is scary for me every time I orchestrate a dozen details just so I can innocently invite you over. Every time I do, I am terrified you will say no, and I'll be stuck with a party I didn't really want to plan, but just wanted to see you again.
Please, stop and analyze the situation. (I can promise you every woman ever has already analyzed it 500 times since Tuesday.) Do you really think I remembered your birthday, made you cookies, and replied to your late night texts because I plan to say no when you ask me out?
I promise you, barring the end of the world, my father's funeral, or a business trip I can't get out of, if you ask me out, I am going to say yes, and then move mountains (or the time of my own father's funeral) to be there.