The Rules vs Teh Rulez.

When looking for books to review I realised that The Rules, a seminal moment in dating book history, had passed me by. Initially I was reluctant to spend my hard earned cash on what I guessed (rightly) was a misogynistic piece of crap and then I discovered Book Mooch. Now, due to the generosity of some wonderful women, my bedside table holds Women Who Love Too Much, He’s Just Not That Into You, and, of course, The Rules. Oh and Real Life Crime Scene Investigation which is nowhere near as good as its title suggests.

The Rules’ premise is that if you act stuck up and too busy to hang out you’ll seem mysterious which will mean that the excitement of getting to know you will drive men crazy. Though there is precisely no concrete evidence, not even good old malleable statistics, or even a half-cooked pseudo-scientific study, to back up that this passive aggressive behaviour works, the authors get creative: “No-one knows seems to remember exactly how The Rules got started, but we think they began circa 1917 with Melanie’s grandmother who made men wait nervously in her parent’s parlour in a small suburb of Michigan.” It’s hard to believe that they have the gall to fob us off with the old ‘my friend told me that her grandmother told her’ line as I believe that’s how holocaust deniers got started.

Annoyingly after reading this stupid book I’ve become plagued by the feeling that I’ve been doing everything wrong. When I told Alexander J. Fury this he decided we needed to come up with our own set of rules, which I am now attempting to follow.

Teh Rulez

1. Do not get wasted on a first date/meeting.
Since I cut back on my drinking I have been wasted twice. Admittedly each of these times resulted in pulling but neither was dignified or merited a second ‘date’ (FYI I’m interpreting the word ‘date’ loosely). However getting tipsy is requisite unless it’s Monday afternoon or something.

2. No sleeping together on a first date.
Kissing is fine though, obviously. Alex says: “You should sit down, and kiss, and talk about life and stuff. If you sit down blood will rush to your brains and he’ll remember you more.”  While this is obviously the ranting of a madman, and I do not believe that sex on a first date is wrong, I was given the caveat that “Sex on a second date is ok.” so I caved.

3. Get his number, suggest hanging out, then go home.
These rules get squished together because they should happen in quick succession. I have a terrible habit of meeting people and not getting their numbers, or doing so then texting things like “I just saw [insert celeb we talked about] on the bus!” which can garner no response other than “Cool!”. As for going home first this is a slightly Rules-esque thing, which will apparently stop me hanging around like a bad smell.

4. You must exchange a minimum of 5 texts before the second date.
How you arrange a date in less than 5 texts is beyond me, however if you manage it this apparently means he is not bothered about you. Alex also thinks that waiting more than four hours to reply to a message implies I am not interested. As it took me two days to reply to the last text message I got from an eligible boy I will keep this in mind (he didn’t text back, surprisingly).

5. Don’t try and be ‘normal’.
Every boy I crush out on gets treated to ‘normal Vanessa’. The Vanessa who doesn’t blather about boys and supermarkets and cars and that guy in Deptford town centre who wears a wedding dress and has a shopping trolley full of paper apples and pears. Instead they get a strange semi-mute person who pretends to like D.A.F and shopping for shoes until I crack and scream “As your maker I command you!” and they think I’m crazy and don’t call again. It seems that the boys I mess around with, not caring whether I look funny or cool, are the ones who either crush out on me or become my best friends.

So there we have them: the most moronic dating rules I have ever clapped eyes on. Does anyone else want to join me in this restrictive and possibly futile rules based adventure? Didn’t think so. Sigh. Maybe I’ll just follow Alexyss K Tylor’s advice instead. She seems to know what she’s talking about, right?

Collage by Dash Snow.