I need to learn how to date after divorce so I’m reading the updated version of The Rules of Dating, and am pretty sure these time and trial-by-fire tactics are dead on. The warning is clear, emphatic and non-negotiable: all renegade rule breakers are doomed to be hookups or heartbroken. I may be headed for celibacy or an island with cabana boys who work on commission, but first, I intend to give their rules a fair shot. Not in order, but as needed.

Never make the first move. Always let the man come to you. I’m good with that. No problem.

DRESS to IMPRESS = Lure and Bait   

Men are visual creatures. Be Eye-Candy; a peek of cleavage, bare shoulders, short skirts, high heels, long hair, preferably straight, dangling earrings or hoops. Men like glitz and movement.

Remind anyone of stream trout? I don’t get it, but the Rules Ladies add, “We don’t know why it works, just that it does. Men love large gold watches. Wear them.”  Hmmm. I’ll go for feminine with a little flash, but I wore too short skirts in my teen years. I’m not willing to have the back of my thighs stick to a chair I’ve been in for a while. Will modify that one.

Imagine the upcoming black-tie event I’m attending as a single. The men will show up in long-sleeved shirts and suit jackets, long pants, socks and entire shoes. Practical. The room temperature will be set to sixty-five, so they won’t break a sweat, while I’ve got an open neckline, bare shoulders, a modestly short skirt, open-toed-four-inch FMPs I’ll have to flex my knees slightly, and cross-over step in to keep from wobbling or risk breaking something if I fall. Don’t think about sneezing. I’ll be freezing. And on top of it, most of them will have at least sixty-pounds on me to keep them toasty!

If this insanity works…

a functioning male might strip me with his eyes, fantasize about him and his sixty extra pounds literally on top and make the first move. As I shrug seductively to mask a bone-chilling shiver, I’ll likely consider letting him, simply to get off my aching feet and thaw out. The Rules ladies that declare our motivation to be matrimony, don’t consider my survival instincts at all, and they’d be kicking in at this point.

Okay, so now my feet hurt like hell, I’m freezing, and here he comes to make the first move.

The next rule is almost as hard as my frost-bitten nipples, and absolute. Break this one and end up with a broken heart or thirty minutes off your feet for a quick thaw-thrust fest with no follow up phone call, unless it’s a booty invite.

Play Hard To Get to be caught??

Are you shitting me?

Nope. They’re dead serious. Since this topic consumes chapters in The Rules’ ladies guide to getting a man to commit, I need a continuation, because I have a date tonight to get ready for. Against every grain in my sane self, I’m going to wear black velvet with a scoop neck, not too-short skirt, gold earrings that dangle, and a modest watch, but hey, it’s gold and platinum.

Once we’re past the appetizers, I may be considering celibacy or insanity. I’ll keep you posted as I learn how to date after divorce. I wish us all luck! 🙂