So genius was KM's post of her dating "what not to do's" and so awful was an experience last night at Chicago's Schoolyard with SM that I was inspired to come up with my very own version. Here it goes:

~ Do not open with "So, you two here just chillin' after work?" Especially if you're way too dorkily white to say "chillin'" and if it's 10 p.m. Work, if I had it, would've ended about five hours ago, pal.

~ Upon hearing that my friend is from Alabama, do not say, "Oh, but you have all of your teeth." She won't think it's funny. I won't, either, but it'll also make me feel sorry for how stupid you are. And it will prompt me to respond with: "Wow, she and I are going to talk shit about you later. A lot."

~ Do not, upon hearing I'm from Indiana, ask, "So, are your white hood and gown at home?" implying that I somehow have some connection to the KKK. It will anger me, offend me and again, reinforce your ridiculous stupidity. Especially if you've also just revealed that you attended Indiana University.

~ Do not tell me you're in "money management," because, although I know exactly what that means, I will respond to all of your stupidity by being a smartass and saying, "You know, that could just mean you're a teller at a bank, dude." And when you don't get my sarcasm, do not fire back that you "manage a combo of $8 million mutual funds." I will be demonstrably unimpressed.

~ When I get up to go to the bathroom, do not stare obnoxiously at my chest. A lot. Because although I won't be paying attention to you, my friend will see you. And she will tell me. And I will be repulsed.

~ Maybe most importantly, do not say, "So, when did you graduate Notre Dame, in....1991?" My jaw will drop and I will shriek. Loudly. "Try 2001," I'll say back, and accuse you of calling me 10 years older than I am. Of course, I'll accusingly ask you back when you graduated and you'll say 1990. Oops. Whatever - don't be 37 and through random insults, hit on a 26-year-old!

(Seriously, I get the whole teasing/jabbing=flirting thing: I highly enjoy it when done well and damnit, if I don't do it myself. But man, know your audience and do it right. Don't call me a 36-year-old racist.)

* Another random, semi-connected point: in our type-of-guy discussion, I told SM and KM that I'm usually attracted to the type of guy whom you'd see wearing a sweater and a pair of track pants the day after a night of heavy drinking. You know, the preppy, just-threw-this-shit-on-to-get-some-greasy-food, guy. It's a totally unintentional consequence, mind you, because, really, what is that outfit? I mean, I get that you didn't want to fish around for a fresh shirt the next day, and that your break-aways are admittedly pretty comfortable. But give me a break - are they that much more comfortable than the jeans you had on the night before?

Of course, that doesn't stop me from still being attracted to you, but still. Put on a fleece and call it a day.