CANDY APPLE RED FLAGS

In the beginning, when you first notice or finally meet a guy who makes your boobs throb, it’s hard to ignore those not-so-red red flags. But we have to look at them for what they are. Warnings. I have always said, “trust yer gut,” but I rarely listened. Well, now it’s loud and clear. If the whistle's blowing early on, things are not about to get any better. Here are some of the flags that were hard for me to ignore.

Candy Apple Red Flag #1:

I had a first date at Starbucks on a Sunday afternoon with a funny guy who I could have easily started to like. THEN! Dude put his hands on my chair, uncomfortably close to my ass, pulled it towards him and began rubbing my thighs. Not just a light grazing of the hand kind of rub, but a full blown, I felt like I owed him fifty bucks sort of thing.

Candy Apple Red Flag #2:

Captain Grab-Ass sent me an email the next day at work saying that he googled me and was wondering if I’d like to come over to his house and snuggle later. I didn’t respond. He sent another email a few hours later asking if I got the first email. He also sent multiple emails to my personal account, as well as four or five texts, just in case I didn’t get the “google” email. I told him nicely that I got all of his “reach outs” but I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him again. I then received a six-paragraph psychoanalysis and a closing statement of how fucked up I was for not giving him a shot. It was a red flag fiesta!

Candy Apple Red Flag #3:

This guy stared at me from across the room and I couldn't tell whether the look he was giving me said, “Man, you’re hot,” or “I wonder if your chopped-up body would fit into my gym bag.” I chose to look away.

Candy Apple Red Flag #4:

I spent a first date with a guy who actually cried about his ex-girlfriend when he dropped me off. I stayed and listened for two reasons. One, because I thought he might commit suicide, and two, it was so fucking hilarious I couldn’t resist.

Candy Apple Red Flag #5:

My friends were inebriated when they thought this one guy who drove a Camaro might be a good match for me. Thanks, guys, I love you but please don’t do my any more favors. Not a cool Camaro. A gay Camaro. All night, he went on and on about this "he thought it was cool, I thought it was gay" Camaro. Five minutes in I knew I was out. He ended up getting smashed on gin and tonics, convinced us to peep out his ride, then peeled out with REO Speedwagon blasting out of the t-top. “Keeep! On! Ro-llin'!”