1. Only meet in public places.
  2. No oldies or NU students.
  3. Stay off your own account.
  4. Send picture and conversation with date one hour before.



Well whatever I thought my type was, this guy was pretty much the exact opposite. He is a bodybuilder – he even showed me competition shots of him all oiled up posing in a speedo. What more could a girl ask for on a first date? We had zero chemistry and the conversation was like pulling teeth – just when I thought I couldn’t hang out with him for another minute, I remembered that I had just finished recruitment and had been trained to hold awkward conversations with strangers and get into the ~deep zone~: “Tell me about your family,” I asked. “What do you love about bodybuilding?” To make matters worse, we met up at Sherbucks (seriously, Trevor, why?) and every other person who walked in knew me. One of my PA kids came over to give me a hug and immediately noticed the bulk of muscle sitting to my right. Swipe left, sorry dude.



It was a cold, windy Friday night – 12-year-olds were sitting next to me taking duckface selfies with their Andy’s custards while a dad announced to the entire store that it was his daughter’s birthday and that everyone should sing along. That’s when I knew this was about to be the worst. Having pulled an all-nighter the night before the date, I was truly not in the mood to make small talk or pretend I was interested in anything except returning to the luxury that is a Bobb double – especially when he was 45 minutes late, but I decided to try and persevere. There was just no chemistry. We talked about high school for the majority of the date, which made me want to take the dull spoon out of his concrete and push it into my eyeball.