Don’t be that guy: Mr. Point-N-Shoot

If there remains a lingering doubt that the human male deserves most of the criticism he gets I’m about to put that to rest. Men are clearly their own worst enemies when it comes to reputation and perception. Take the following as proof, only men will light theirs or a friend’s farts, only men wear socks and sandals at the same time, and men alone would pee on an electric fence just to see if it shocks them.

They also are the only ones who believe sending pictures of their penis is a completely appropriate dating strategy.
I’m not sure if I was too hungover for class that morning or simply glossed too quickly over the reading assignment but nowhere in the Dating Manual do I recall that sending text message photos of your junk is a fitting method for telling a woman you’re interested.

Several years ago Polly and I were out with her girlfriends. After a few drinks the conversation, as it usually does with women, turned to sex. In a moment of intoxicated one-upmanship the youngest among them decided to show everybody else a recent text she was sent from one of her numerous suitors. Personally, I would have appreciated an advanced warning.

Somewhere along the way this dude decided he ought to take things to another level and prove to this girl how interested he really was. So with a determination that was admirable he pulled out all of the stops – quite literally. On her phone screen was a picture of dude’s manly essence in all its vertical glory along with the caption that read…

“thinking about you!”

Dude. Really?!?!
Now I get that sexting is all the rage for teenagers and college kids, but this guy was almost 50! Couldn’t he have just taken her out for a nice steak dinner, blooming onion, maybe a movie then ask if she wanted to come in for a night cap? Was the anatomy lesson truly necessary? And how did he hope she would respond, did he think she would be overcome with passion at the sight and head (no pun intended) right over? I have my own and frankly they aren’t that captivating.

And what if he had mistakenly sent it to his boss or God forbid his mother? I once sent a cute G-Rated “I love you, baby” text message, meant for the Polly, to my next-door neighbor’s wife and was mortified for three days. I also found myself in the stall of a women’s bathroom at Ontario airport once and barely escaped without getting arrested, so don’t tell me that could never happen. And isn’t sending a picture of your twig and berries over 3G just asking for it to blow up in your face someday? Does AT&T or Verizon keep a file of dude’s packages just in case one of them ends up in political office? And what if you and her don’t work out, you get caught cheating with the roommate, or accidentally call her by your ex’s name? Guess what, because you wanted be Ron Jeremy now your package is the laughing stock at GNO’s everywhere.
Andrew Weiner, that’s all I’m saying.

Besides is an 8-megapixel photo how you really want to introduce the goods? Everybody knows that cameras make objects appear smaller than they really are and you’ll probably just end up disappointing her with your manliness and blow your chances entirely. So at least wait until she’s seen it in person before giving her something to frame and put on the mantle. Or better yet save the picture taking for your six-year-old niece’s birthday party or that 6’2″ transvestite in line at Starbucks and leave the home-made porn for some other loser.
In other words, don’t be that guy.