She's a Man-Eater!

It's Friday night, and you are mere moments away from what feels like the most nerve-racking date you've had in years. You're feeling a little rusty, but you've also pulled out all the stops. You opted for the $40 haircut instead of the $9.95 buzz cut from Great Clips, and you've invested in some clothes that don't scream "my ex bought me this, and I only wear it under pain of death." And just to ensure you close the deal at the nights' end, you went and spent a good twenty minutes chatting with the 'super-fabulous' sales guy at the cologne counter at Macy's, and he's helped you pick out a fragrance that says: "I'm uber masculine, yet very much in touch with my metro sexual side, would you like to sleep with me." Finally, you've subjected yourself to as many episodes of Sex and the City as you could emotionally muster without turning into one of the characters, and retained just enough information to get a decent read on this mystery woman you've been set up with. The cab's arrived. You take a deep breath and step out into the night with high hopes of meeting Mrs. Right.

The date's going well. Things are progressing along nicely, but then, you've only been at the table for 5 minutes. So far, the verdict is: She's beautiful, she's funny, and most importantly (and even surprisingly), she actually seems like she's into you! Things are looking up. But it's all going to come crashing down, because your server has made his way to your table to grab your drink order and ramble through the chef's specials for the evening, and your date has, in one brief moment, gone from Miss America, to Miss Pain-in-the-ass. And in the midst of his exuberant spiel, she abruptly interrupts, only to announce that several of the wine selections are in fact on the wrong place on the menu, and she would like to conduct a formal dress down of the sommelier. Oh yeah, it's going to be that kind of date.

You politely listen as she emasculates the poor sommelier, and when he disappears off toward the kitchen with his tail between his legs, the poor waiter, who's been cowering in the corner, feeling utterly terrorized, has tip toed to the table to take down the order. A similar interaction ensues when he has the nerve to announce that the dish Ms. Hide would like to order has cilantro on it, shock and horror!

At this point, you'd like to be anywhere in the world other than in this chair in front of this culinary tyrant. You're probably sitting there wondering if this piece of work has a probation officer, or if she's just one of those spoiled, self-entitled girls that your mama always warned you about! Either way, the lesson here should be obvious, but in case it isn't, here it is: If someone is incapable of treating everyone with warmth, kindness and respect, and not just the object of their affection, they are not worth the time of day. So it's time to move on, and move up. Happy Hunting!