A lot of scary things happen when a betch goes out and isn’t drunk enough. Usually she’ll be like, really bored and chilling with her best friend, her Blackberry, which is okay because she’s sober enough to avoid sending embarrassing BBMs. But on some rare occasions, she’s actually socializing with people she may not know in a somewhat coherent way. There’s a first time for everything…
As is typical when a betch goes out, some guy will ask for her number. Surprisingly, you receive a text the next day at 2pm rather than 2am so you know something is up. He wants to take you on a date or “go for drinks.” Naturally, he texts you rather than calls to avoid the possibility that you and your besties have already nicknamed him “lanky button down man,” and that he will be laughed right off the phone. Also, he’s naturally intimidated by your blatantly oozing vibe that you are better than him.
Betches love dates because it gives them a chance to get dressed up and provides hours of opportunities just to talk about themselves. Also, free dinner! While a nice girl would be anxious about a first date, you’re not because you’re a betch and you don’t give a shit.
Many times, these dates occur over winter break or during the summer since everyone at college knows your entire sexual history and thus is unlikely to want to discuss it over dinner with you. This is great if you’ve been bad about #8 not fucking bros lately. But every betch knows the cardinal rule: never put out on a first date.
A first date usually winds up like this. You get there first. This is essential because it means you can sit at the bar and flirt with some other guy, knowing your date will see this when he arrives. All betches know that jealousy is a powerful emotion. He gets there, and things are rather awkward at first. You order a salad and a vodka soda. Forty-five minutes and four vodka sodas later things are looking up. This guy has gotten a lot hotter and you’re impressed by his hysterical stories from when he was abroad in Rome. You bond over how overrated the Sistine Chapel was. After this he picks up the check (Side note: if he fucking doesn’t, you immediately #9 nickname him “Po’ Boy” and delete him from your phone), and he tells you he’d love to see you next weekend. Why wouldn’t he? You’d date yourself if you could!
Scenario A: If after five drinks you realize he’s not that attractive, and you can’t stop focusing on the disproportionate size of his ears, or if he uses nauseating terms of endearment like “beautiful” (a betch knows how hot she is, you don’t need to keep telling her), you tell him it was really nice to meet him and give him a kiss on the cheek, and head out to meet your betches at a club. It’s always best to accept a date with a backup plan for later.
Scenario B: If however, he’s kind of an asshole (read: Bro) and gives off the vibe that he might not call you back, you immediately make moves to prolong the date. As he walks you to a cab, you play coy but accept his invitation to go to another bar or chill at his apartment. This is usually followed by a lengthy makeout sesh, after which you get home and await his call 1-3 days later. The more unsure you are of his impending call, the hotter he gets and the more you build up a relationship in your head, envisioning drama and hot makeup sex.
All in all, when you get asked out on a date, it’s poor etiquette to say no. Assuming the guy isn’t heinous, you should say yes because betches are really good people at heart, and we wouldn’t want to deprive someone else of getting acquainted with the best person we know.