You Must Wait WEEKLY To Call Her

The Dating Nerd is really a shadowy figure whose whereabouts and identifying details remain unknown. What we can say for certain is that he is actually, excellent at dating. He’s been on more dates than it is possible to shake an extended bar tab at, and he’s here to greatly help the common guy step his dating game up a notch – or several.
The Question
Hi Dating Nerd,
I just had the very best first and second hang with a woman ever. I wanna call her up – texts feel so flimsy and I must say i love hearing her talk, just like the actual sound of her voice. But my buddy Chris keeps telling me it is a bad idea. Just bad, bad, bad. Could it be that crazy? I understand like, pickup artists say you mustn’t call someone for at the very least weekly afterwards. What’s your stance?
– Call Me Crazy
Hi Call Me Crazy,
After your first date, you need to wait weekly to call her. At the very least. You absolutely must. Whereas most matters in dating are complicated – which particular sex maneuvers she enjoys, the way you say sorry once you fart – that one is extraordinarily simple. Just don’t take action. Please. Invest the one little bit of advice from me, ever, it ought to be that one. Okay, actually, it ought to be get regular physical exercise.” But don’t call her for weekly” is really a close second.
Yeah, I know you intend to be that guy in an enchanting comedy who falls in love headfirst, without reservation. But if you don’t are, in fact, Ryan Gosling, or another freakishly attractive person, with so much raw sexual magnetism that dating advice is irrelevant, do not pick up that phone. Also, if you’re Ryan Gosling, why are you reading this? Its not necessary my advice.
But if you live in the real world – if, like me, you are a solid 7 in the looks department – then put your phone away.
I’m not suggesting this because I believe in, like, the power of mystery, or something. Some pickup artists will teach you that being elusive is the key to a woman’s tightly-guarded pants. I say that’s ridiculous, unless you’re an actual spy whose Russian spymasters will kill you with plutonium if you disclose your classified information. Like most people, you probably don’t have any particularly delicious secrets. Don’t act as if you are magical treasure, the sight which is a fantastic privilege. You’re not.
So don’t do this garbage where you wait four hours to text her for no reason. Here is a fun fact: everyone enjoys a little bit of vulnerability. It’s courageous. It requires guts to place yourself out there. If you are nervous on a romantic date and you also can’t compose yourself, you need to probably just say, “Y’know, I’m sort of nervous, because you’re really attractive.” That’s a lot more interesting than whatever fake-ass Stoicism you may muster.
But that philosophy will not apply to calls, whatsoever. Because we’re in a day and time where a telephone call is really a Majorly Big Deal. A telephone call is basically equal to delivering a handwritten letter on horseback at sunset in a blizzard without the clothes on, except with less retro appeal. Once you call somebody who you’ve been texting, you’re saying, I will not accept perfectly functional text-based communication – I’ve surely got to hear you breathing.”
Which, if you are at the proper stage, is really a perfectly reasonable sentiment. Even sexy. But there’s minimal way you’re at that stage weekly in. Probably, you’ll come off as desperate – like you’re looking forward to her very most intimate company.
You may respond that someone should go on it as a compliment you want to take that sort of plunge-that you intend to hear their melodious laugh, etc. Which would be true in a perfect world. But we don’t live in a perfect world. We live in a world where women are constantly dealing with unwanted male attention.
As in the case of every social situation ever, being great at dating requires that you put yourself in the other person’s shoes. So, please remember that any even slightly attractive woman is constantly getting accosted by a zoo’s worth of men, constantly. She’s getting a daily barrage of hey baby” from knuckle-dragging meatheads. Scary homeless people are giving her the once-over, then the twice-over, then mumbling indecipherably. And her male co-workers keep casually asking her out for a drink, even though she’s said I’m busy” more than someone named Busy.
So it’s absolutely, perfectly rational for any woman to possess a bubble around her personal space. And if you break that bubble, you’ll probably come off as creepy, no matter how good that first date was. It’ll leave a bad taste in her mouth.
Also? If you absolutely can’t bear to not call her for a week, if you will die of anticipation, you should probably grow the hell up. Nobody, but nobody, should have that kind of power over you, unless they share your DNA or your checking account. Yeah, okay: maybe she’s shockingly likable, her ass defies all description, and she’s the only woman you’ve ever met who likes the dumb music you do. Whatever – calm down. The sun will still rise tomorrow if you don’t hear her voice tonight.
By the way, I don’t dispense this advice idly. I have been precisely this kind of idiot before. See, about three years ago, I had a fascinating woman on lockdown. Or so I thought. After our meeting at a cocktail party was sealed with what seemed like a very meaningful kiss on the cheek, she added me on Instagram and started liking all my photos. She was just straight-up going for it.
So I called her. I figured, why not? Well, she answered the phone cautiously, with a nervous um, hello?” And when said hi and asked her what she was doing, she said, I’m at the grocery store.” There was an awkward silence while I tried to mentally compose some sort of quirky vegetable joke. When my brain failed me, I said, Hey, are you free tomorrow?” Yeah,” she said, Just text me,” with the kind of tone a woman uses on a misguided toddler.
After our phone call, she decided she wasn’t free tomorrow. Suspiciously, she also wasn’t free that weekend. In fact, we never went out. What happened was, with that out-of-the-blue phone call, I transformed, in her mind, from interesting writer-type” to desperate writer-type who’s treating me like an oasis in a merciless desert.” I learned a significant lesson that day. I now pass it on to you.
There is only one exception: Call her if she asks you to. Of course. Don’t be dumb.

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