The blind leading the blind…

Some might think that my blog is bias because i am a guy… After all Beirut is the fabled 1 man to 7 women city (a “fact” that has been proven extremely wrong, especially in the Beirut central, but has been good for tourism.. Well from the Gulf at least… But who wants them to show up to your party?).

However, i would like to point out that dating is gonna be shit in any city. No matter where you are… I just happen to think it is especially bad in Beirut. Not just for men… But almost especially for women. Hence, why most men have terrible dates… It is a vicious cycle.. Women Expect the worst from us.

Nevertheless, it is always comforting to know that others have it as least as bad as you. I’m not being a pessimist. I’m sure if i was a Panda it would be much worse… If you could not even convince your own kind to procreate for the survival of your species then you are really fucked… or not fucked… however you look at it you loose.

Exclusive of Pandas, the dating scene still sucks. However when i see a story like the one below i understand why. As bad as men like myself might have it… Women always have it worse. So, for a brief moment i want to recognize  the pain that women also go through… Hence, this must be the reason that there are so many damaged goods in the market…

Gentlemen, please stop doing this for your fellow man… You are shitting the pool for the rest of the swimmers.

(A letter from a a man who went on ONE date with a woman… and felt the need to write her a 12 page letter)

Take it away, Mike:

Hi Lauren,
I’m disappointed in you. I’m disappointed that I haven’t gotten a response to my voice mail and text messages.
FYI, I suggest that you keep in mind that emails sound more impersonal, harsher, and are easier to misinterpret than in-person or phone communication. After all, people can’t see someone’s body language or tone of voice in an email. I’m not trying to be harsh, patronizing, or insulting in this email. I’m honest and direct by nature, and I’m going to be that way in this email. By the way, I did a google search, so that’s how I came across your email.
I assume that you no longer want to go out with me. (If you do want to go out with me, then you should let me know.) I suggest that you make a sincere apology to me for giving me mixed signals. I feel led on by you.
Things that happened during our date include, but are not limited to, the following:
-You played with your hair a lot. A woman playing with her hair is a common sign of flirtation. You can even do a google search on it. When a woman plays with her hair, she is preening. I’ve never had a date where a woman played with her hair as much as you did. In addition, it didn’t look like you were playing with your hair out of nervousness.
-We had lots of eye contact during our date. On a per-minute basis, I’ve never had as much eye contact during a date as I did with you.
-You said, “It was nice to meet you.” at the end of our date. A woman could say this statement as a way to show that she isn’t interested in seeing a man again or she could mean what she said–that it was nice to meet you. The statement, by itself, is inconclusive.
-We had a nice conversation over dinner. I don’t think I’m being delusional in saying this statement.

(this is only a portion of the 1,200 words on total… I’ve censored the rest out of pity.)

(It goes on. Way on. 1,200 words worth of on. But we’ll spare you.)


So there it is… We all have our stories… Feel free to share your bad experiences in the comments sections. Beirut must have a wider pool of dating disasters to access!



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The Group Date… Yes, there were 5 of us.

I’m not one for persistence when it comes to chasing women. I know it is suppose to be the way things are done out here, but seriously grow up. If a women can’t get the hint that I’m not some kind of foodie or part of a research team for TimeOut and that this is actually a “Date” then i give up. At some point a basic level of maturity is expected, especially if a follow up date is arranged.

So, this is the story of 2 dates… 4 months apart.

The first one went really well. So well in fact that i decided to hold off on the first date kiss and treat it like a Lego project; build it brick by brick. Little did i know, this would be another immature adventure in Lego Land (Warning: Only suitable for ages 5-14).

LegoLuving in Lego Land

Now, that date ended with a suggestion from the girl that “we should definitely do this again sometime”.

Now, in my ignorant arrogance i assumed that this meant we should go on another date. So, I initiated the process a few days later…. Silly me.

I proposed a good restaurant that was linked to conversation that we had had the previous evening. Showing that not only was i interested but, i had indeed listened to some of what we talked about that evening (An ability that is not always present on some dates). But here is her response:

Via Text Message: “Oh, Wednesday wont work for me… Eeek! Sorry!! But let me know another time!!” Ciao Ciao”

Hmmmmm, I think, “Now im fucked… Cause i have to put myself on the line again to shoot in the dark at another day, where she may or may not be free…”

So i decide to call, but low and behold she is booked all weekend, but asks me to arrange something early next week. Without thinking i agree and we chit chat about the weekend plans before saying “bye bye, talk to you early next week…”

It is Monday evening… So i call…. (Silly me). Again an onslaught of excuses followed by hyper active intonations from her of “Let’s do this soon!!!!!”

Here I draw the line… I’ve asked 3 time after all… So i simply say…“You tell me when you’re free and i’ll arrange
it. Ok, thanks… Talk to you when your free….”

4 months later…..

Text Message: “G!!!! How are you????? It has been ages… We really need to catch up! Are you free for a drink tonight??”

My Thoughts: “Well Fuck me in the goat ass…. That was unexpected…Maybe she actually meant it when she said she wanted to go out again….”

So drinks are arranged… a few jokes traded and we’re meeting at 9….

9:00 to 9:45: Having a great time, catching up….I’m being a gentleman, pulling out chairs and creating dynamic conversation. The evening is again going really well… I’m getting psyched cause she is the one who called me… What could go wrong at this stage????

9:46: “Heeey, my cousin is near by!!!! Can he join us for a bit????”

Now, there is no way i ca say no…. I have to put on a smiley face. But, who knows how long “a bit” really is… No big deal.

10:15: It has been about half an hour of hearing about the dramatic relationship of a 19 year old French boy with a love triangle on his hands… And the saddest part is i’m jealous of him, cause 19 year old French girls seem to have a clearer idea of a relationship then most women my age.

10:16: My Date:”Heeeeyyyyy, my best friend is here!!!!”

At this point a table for 2 has now become a table for 4 and i’m sitting in between a 19 year old and a sweet but basically engaged friend. The evening has already been derailed so there is really no point in carrying on.

So I politely explain that i have some friends at another bar and I’ll be going there in about 30 min. But, being Lebanese I politely suggest that they are all welcome to come.

My Date: “Heeey, my friend XXX is in the area…Let’s just wait for him and then we will all go…”


I flip the table over and and light all the spilled alcohol on fire and walk away leaving the date it flames… After all that is how it went down…

Then i snapp back into reality and act like the quite and agreeable Japanese tour guide that i am…. After all this is my basic role for the night. If only i had a small flag and interesting facts about the place we are going the rest of the evening….

Domo Arigato Madame… .This date is over.

Look, Godzilla is about to destroy another date…



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The Good Night Diss…WTF?

I’ve been away for a while… For a combination of reasons. One of which was i was dating someone… It is now over, and there is not really much to tell there. Sometime you just don’t see the potential in something cause the chemistry is just not there… The relationship just does not have the natural lift to make it off the runway. Whatever the reason, it just comes to an end. However, unlike before, it is better to put a bullet in it early then let it drag unnecessarily making the whole extraction worse later.

Nevertheless, life will move on whether you like it or not. So get back on the wagon and dive right back into the dating pool…. Even if it the pool is full of shit.

Now, dating is shit every where. However, I think the batting average is higher in other cities. I’m not trying to beat down the locals, but it seems to me that out of 10 dates in other cities 1 will be awful, 2 will be boring, 2 are uncomfortable, 2 are fun but somethings missing, 1 is interesting but does not work out, 1 is a confusing but leaves you thinking, and 1 keeps you wondering when you’ll see her next.

Beirut, seems to force you to go on 20 dates for that 1 that keeps you wondering when you’ll see her next. Anyone who has read this blog will know that i’ve been on some astonishingly shitty dates…. And those are just the ones worth writing about. So i feel confident to say that you need 20 dates to find a decent one. But that is tiresome. In the end you hope that it is all worth it….

Then, low and behold you find a pretty interesting girl. You go on a date. You have her in laughter half the night and in suspense with stories the other half. It was that one date you have been swimming through a seemingly endless ocean of poop for…. So when the night comes to a close you think to yourself, “I gotta give her a good night kiss…I mean it is rude not to!”

And then you get the cheek.

Sometimes all the brain can process is WTF as a response.

Probably the only time your brain can’t actually think the words “What The Fuck!”… it just shows you the letters “WTF!” like Wildy Coyote falling off a cliff.

When did a kiss become such a promiscuous event that it requires a dis like that… What’s worse is that it is followed up by a string of text messages. Where is the decisive human physical response to the question, “are you interested”???

Cause i am definitely not interested in texting you all night like we are 13. Nor am I interested in becoming your friend. If i had been, i would have brought more people with me on what is obviously a date… Just so we are clear i don’t need another friend. In fact i am not even accepting Friend applications unless some weird turn of events justifies it.

There needs to be a bit of a reality check in Beirut. A man will not ask a woman out because he wants to be buddies. If you accept that invitation out, you should expect that (so long as things go well) that he will have a physical interest in you. If you are too PG-13 to understand that, then please don’t bother leaving the house!

Now that i am thinking in acronyms like WTF on these dates, i feel like a PG-13 kinda guy again.  LOL and FML cause i think im gonna sprout some pimples and have my voice crack as I yell

“TTYL Beirut!”

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Monday Jåger Mix up

Surprise surprise, I met a really cool, pretty, smart and independent woman… Just one minor problem. We dont speak the same language. I dont mean this in a metaphorical sense. I mean, my French and Arabic is about as good as her English… Which leaves us with charades and simple sentences.

Oh, but this story is not about me today…. No no, it is about my friend and how i inadvertently ruined his dress shirt and his evening…But let me back up.

Although my mono-syllabic lady friend and i have only been seeing each other a week, timing would have it that her birthday would land in the same week. Not wanting to show up to the girls party empty handed, I called a friend of mine who would be able to enjoy the entourage of females that accompany any Monday night birthday party. Within  minuets of our arrival i know i did the right thing. My buddy sits down next to the party girl in the crew and they seem to hit it off due to the smile on his face. Now, things could not be better…We are drinking, dancing, taking pictures…. I like her friends they like my friend. We are one happy group of balloon baring birthday buddies.

Now it is Monday, so my guard is down as i’m not expecting a crazy evening. But the party girl talking to my friend had a different agenda… After slamming back 3 shots she gets that auto-pilot look in her eye. Watching her dance with my buddy i can see that her reliance on his stable moves is growing. But he is grinning ear to ear with a nice set of boobies bouncing against him like a Greek check book.

Sitting their with my birthday girl and google translate on hand, my date whispers some interesting news to me. “She is depression, I mean, she is depressed”

She looks pretty happy to me though. Until she comes over and suggests we go to another location. When i look to the birthday girl for approval, i realize this is not a suggestion. We are definitely going to the next spot as her eyes flare with conviction and another shot hits the table, she shouts “Bedi Musiza Arabi“. I decide to shut the fuck up and just go with it.

Now, she can barely walk but this creates greater dependence on my friend. Which means more bobbies bouncing and a bigger grin on his face. So i am not gonna be the wet blanket. I’ll leave that to the bouncer at the next club who informs us she better pull her shit together as she snaps back with grumbling, “Bediii Ahawwwiii…”

I think in a shouting tone in my head, “where the fuck is Starbucks???”

If that is not bad enough it is proceeded by a virtual free fall off the stiletto heels to the tune of Nancy Ajram busting out of the cigar filled Concerto. Now the whole peanut gallery is looking at us trying to control the drunken corpse and we try and lift her and the massive Babylons into the car while a kid tries to get some change for tossing a plastic rose at her. But finally we are in the car. She is in the back clutching to my friend like a not so classy princess Guinever with her hero Lancalot.

As we are driving off, i continue with the shutting the fuck up and think to myself, “fuck… it’s only Monday”

But as the whole experience subsides and we near the drop off point i give a supportive look to my buddy in the the back seat for a job well done. Being a good sport he gives me a nod of approval and still sporting his optimistic smile. I turn back hold hands with my new Arabic tutor as we drive to the tunes of some other Arabic singer with fake contacts and pouting lips. It seems everything is gonna be ok.

But then the groan comes out again, “Bedi Naaamiii…” But this time it was interrupted by a choke-cough…Well a kind of wet cough. Whipping my head around i see his smile transform to a face of shear terror and panic. She had her arm around his neck for support in what looked loving before. But now it is kind of like a head lock as she blows chunks and grips him tighter with each convulsing spew.

When the Princess of Darkness takes over...

We quickly pull over and I run around back to get the Exorcist chic off my friend and lay her on the ground to desecrating the earth. He is standing there with, what looks like fajitas and Jägermeister with a dress shirt pocket full of both. As i swollow my sympathy vomit, i think it looks like a zip-lock bag of soup.

Now the smile is gone, she is on the floor in a puddle of the fajita-Jåger mix and a Army guy on the corner runs over and asks what the hell is happening…..And all i can think is

“Fuck, it’s only Monday…”

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The Nigerian Barista

I’m sitting in a cafe watching the look of utter confusion on the face of a Nigerian barista behind the counter at Caribou Coffee…

Come on everyone, let's sing love songs!

He is standing there with 2 Philippinos who are singing love songs like the Jachson 5 on a corner in Harlem during the 70’s…. And he is standing there with nothing to add to the situation, wondering how the hell he ended up there.

This is how i feel when i’m sitting with some of the women on these dates… Watching their gums flapping about their random topic generation and saying to myself … This is not normal… Like the Nigerian, i dont really feel like singing love songs by the espresso maker in between customers. I too ask myself, “is this what normal people do??? Am i the weird one for not wanting to stand around singing My Heart will go on???

Sometime your environment will make you doubt what you have always know to be true… But that Nigerian man and Myself are not going to bend to the will of the crowd.

Our hearts will go on…

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My Geinny Tickels….

The most eligible bachelor in Beirut...

Inter-Adult pedophilia… That is how some grown women are treating relationships here…. I feel like a gross old man taking advantage of some Japanese school girl in a manga porn.

Now just to clear up any legal issues these people are between 26-30 years old.. They should be adults by now…. Yet somehow they think acting like a 13 year with a tickley geinny every time a kiss crosses her lips seems to be a theme.

And how is a grown man suppose to react? Play the dirty old manga statutory rapist and get persistent? Or just turn in your badge & gun and resign from the game.

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The Stalker advice…

So this is what works here....

“Listen, here is my advice just be persistent…”

“Listen, who cares if she did not call back… you have to keep calling..”

Why does this advice sound like something you would hear at a stalker support group.

“Hi, my name is Steve. I am a Stalker, and i just cant seem to get through to these Lebos who think they are celebrities. How can you help me fellow stalkers??

Hi Steve. My advice is just keep calling until she throws a fit. Then you really know.

This is literally the same advice i keep getting on women who are seemingly having good date with me, then not able to deal with the up keep of planning a second one. Yet, apparently this is a game of some sort. The objective is collect as many of a man’s dignity tokens at the start, so if you ever decide to give it up you can use it against him later.

I keep hearing that “chivalry  is dead”
I admit that it is. But It is because Lebanese women killed it.

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