I had to kill two hours at lunch yesterday so, duh, I ordered a glass of wine. And as my girlfriends chatted about something involving career trajectories and charts and graphs and blah blah blah, my mind began to wander and so did my eyes. I slowly surveyed the room until my eyes landed on him. Right there — in complete unobstructed view — my dream man was sitting at the outside corner of a semi-circular booth, fully and happily engaged in conversation with his equally happy and engaging co-workers. He looked handsome, clean and employed — three good selling points for a potential life partner right there.

I decided to make him mine. Step one:  Make eyes at him. I positioned myself accordingly, crossing my legs to highlight my calves and not my chunk of thigh, using my left hand to pick up my glass of waiter-suggested, over-priced chardonnay to properly display my unencumbered ring finger. I was locked, loaded — only semi-buzzed, actually– and ready to go.

And then their waiter delivered their meals. I waited patiently, sipping my chardonnay, re-angling my legs. But he was completely caught up in the excitement of hot food being placed in front of him and oblivious to my plans. I was fine with it, though. I had a second glass of chardonnay on the way and nothing but time.

And then he ruined everything. That man picked up his knife and fork and started sawing at his meat like a five-year-old playing with his “I Can Eat Steak Like Daddy” Play-Doh set. And then, holding his fork with his balled-up fist, he backwardly shoved that sawed-off chunk of meat in his mouth. And just like that, I was out.

I would rather listen to my friends drone on about budget projections than flirt with a man who can’t handle a knife and fork.

So I’m asking all mothers reading this — Please, teach your sons how to cut a steak. What’s cute at 5 ain’t so cute at 40.

holding-the-door-open-082714And since I’m on the subject…Moms, please teach your sons to stand there and hold the door open for EVERY female approaching from within 50 feet, regardless of her age, weight, or bootyliciousness. And teach him that for every militant “I don’t need a man to hold a door open for me!” comment or for every rude woman who accepts his gracious gesture without bothering to say thank you, there are TENS of THOUSANDS of women who will get a little giddy at being treated like a lady while saying to themselves, “That boy’s mama raised him right.”

And when your sons get a little older, please teach them to never ask a girl out by text. Don’t honk at the sidewalk, always walk up to knock on the door. Teach them that women will judge him by the way he treats the waiter and that when he’s not looking, his date will try to sneak a peak at how much tip he left.

Also, teach your sons to wear good shoes and that white socks with dress pants are never acceptable under ANY condition.

And one last thing. You know that dutch oven thing? Yeah. It’s not funny. But if your son finds a woman who thinks it is, tell him to marry her on the spot because she’s his soul mate.