TOXIC BACHELOR

STUART HOOD EXPLAINS WHY MATES AND DATES DON'T GO TOGETHER

Of all the places I've broken up with a woman, a wet and muddy field in Scotland remains the most memorable. It was a cold July and, against my better judgment, I'd included my girlfriend Nikki on the T In The Park team sheet. The team was therefore made up of eight boys and one girl. To put it another way, it was The Worst Idea Ever.

"I'll be fine, I'll join in," enthused Nikki about the music festival. She wasn't and she didn't. I tried to understand.

I tried to pick the grass off her hot dogs.

I tried to be considerate. But there's only so much moaning one man can take.

So when she demanded I find "a toilet that didn't stink", I erupted. She'd ruined my weekend. We were over.

By the time I got back to the tent, she was gone.

You're probably thinking: "Poor girl, what a b******," and, on paper, I can see where you're coming from. But in the real world, she was the one at fault. She broke one of dating's golden rules: she merged
two tribes.

So now's the part where I tell you how you can wow your boyfriend's friends, right? Wrong. You can't. Be yourself and you can get them to like you. But you will never, ever, get to a point where they want you on their nights out – because you alter the dynamic. The conversation's different, the jokes are different and, most of all, your boyfriend's different. Mate Stu and date Stu are two separate entities. It's not sad. It's sensible.

Every healthy relationship needs an escape pod. And this doesn't mean getting plastered, slagging you off and sleeping with other women. It means scheduling time apart to exercise our masculinity (pub, football) and your femininity (cocktails, shopping) and remind ourselves how different (read: lost) we would be without you. Allow us this freedom and we'll love you all the more. Gatecrash our party, and your invitation is likely to be rescinded. Permanently.

Dear Toxic Bachelor   

I finished with my ex a year ago. Although he’s seeing someone new, he won’t stop pestering me. Why is he behaving like this?

Congratulations – you were obviously a very good lover (or he’s a grade-A psycho). But back to the point. Meet his texts head on. Men don’t take a failure to respond to a message as rejection, but as a partial success. After all, you haven’t technically said: “No. Not ever.” Make that crucial word (no) clear and it’ll get him off your back. Hasn’t worked? Beckon the authorities.

Stuart Hood is Regulars Editor of FHM Photography: Lancton Illustration: Spencer Wilson

TOXIC BACHELOR

STUART HOOD ON WHY WOMEN SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO DATE A MAN-RAT

Aaarrgghh! I'm angry. Angry with all you women for not being able to spot a manipulative man-rat. And angry for all you women who have to put up with said human/rodent hybrid. You deserve better. But as I've learnt, those three words just don't get through.

'You deserve better' example one: Duke of York pub, King's Cross, July 2006. A date ends with the revelation from Emma: "I've enjoyed myself, 
but I can't commit. I can't commit to anyone. My last boyfriend beat me."

'You deserve better' example two: Mobile phone, Old Street, October 2007. A night out is interrupted by a phone call from a damsel in distress. Rachel's caught her bloke cheating. Again. How could the b****** do it to her? He'd promised last time "was the last time".

'You deserve better' example three: sitting room, my house, London, last week. My friend Paula was down for the weekend. How were things? Bad. Her bloke viewed her as a short-term solution. He'd told her she didn't live up to his usual standards. "But he buys me presents, so he's not all bad – is he?"

Three different women – all educated, all attractive, all sought-after – who sum up so many women's problems. Despite reasons and opportunities to get out, this trio stay in, or go back to, relationships that are irreparable. Why? Because of the belief that they "can change him". Newsflash, ladies: you can't.

Why would said man change? You're beaten down, you're loyal, you're just where he wants you. You look good on his arm when he needs you, and you don't ask questions when he doesn't. He can do what he wants, when he wants. If you object, a slap, a pressie or a false promise will keep you quiet.

"Better the devil you know," says Paula.

Absolute crap. You're not worthless. You're not a loser. You're with a loser.

I agree that you should change him – but change as in swap, not alter. You don't just deserve better, you deserve much, much better. Now go and work this out for yourself.

Dear Toxic Bachelor

My boyfriend is a mummy's boy. If she calls, he's at her house in a flash, regardless of whether he's meant to be seeing me. What can I do?

Are you seriously considering ordering him to tell the woman who produced him where to go? See a doctor, because you're delusional. If a change is going to happen, it will happen incrementally. You'll grow closer, he'll trust you more and, over time, he'll call Mummy, then you; then you, then Mummy; and finally, just you. Wait for your chance to shine and he'll give it to you. Issue the ‘me or her' ultimatum and there's only one possible outcome.

TOXIC BACHELOR

STUART HOOD EXPLAINS WHY SPLITTING THE BILL IS THE WAY TO WIN A MAN'S HEART

The smiles disappeared and the laughter ceased. Jess and I had entered the ‘business end' of proceedings: the bill had arrived. And after three courses, pre-dinner drinks and a couple of carafes of ‘Maître d' Recommended' Shiraz, it was going to be big.

The waiter hovered, we locked eyes and fidgeted nervously. Who would fold? Who would blink? It was me. Of course, it was me. For the fifth time in a row it was me. I entered my PIN and said a prayer. It began: "Forgive me bank manager for I have sinned." It ended: "Please, Jess, please pay next time."

Unfortunately, I must have been on the wrong spiritual wavelength. Three days later I got the call: "Unauthorised overdraft infringement. £25 charge." Then, five days later, I found myself sticking another three-figure dinner onto my VISA card. This couldn't go on. I had rent to pay. Jess was going to have to get over her inability to stick her hand in her pocket. She was going to have to stop being female.

Don't believe me? Reckon you pay your own way? Consider the facts. A recent survey by Parship.co.uk discovered men spend £1,426 on women in the first six months of a relationship. Women? Well, women spend £740 on men. Going Dutch? Going round the world on my credit card more like.

"You should have said," shrugged Jess, when I ended things on threat of account closure. Maybe I should have, but here's the deal: I can't. No man can. Admitting financial frailty is like announcing we have a low sperm count – it shatters our pride. So, if things are going to last, you have to realise this, you have to offer to pay, and you have to do it as early as the third date.

On the first two dates we're trying to impress, so we should foot the bill. But from the third onwards, please offer. If we don't accept, we're happy paying (but please keep asking). If we do, fear not, it isn't half and half from here to eternity. We'll still treat you as often as we can (roughly: us paying 60 per cent, going Dutch 30 per cent, and you paying 10 per cent of the time). Got it? Good. Dig out that debit card, I fancy lunch.

Dear Toxic Bachelor

I recently met someone through internet dating. We talked on the phone and texted, then met up a few days ago. He said I was his soulmate, but now he's cooled off. Is there a future for us or am I wasting my time?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick…yup, you guessed it – you're wasting your time. This guy clearly believes you don't live up to your emoticon exchanges. But, to be honest, if he was psychotic enough to use the expression ‘soulmate' after a few texts and the odd call, you should count it as a lucky escape.

TOXIC BACHELOR

STUART HOOD ON WHY IT DOESN'T PAY TO PUT OUT ON A FIRST DATE

Friday evening and my flatmate Fiona was on the sofa, sulking. "Steve hasn't called," she pouted. "One great date, then nothing – again. Why?" "Simple," I replied. "Sex."

Confused? I'll explain. Whether it's a blind date set up by friends, or an online Romeo, it makes no difference – on every single first date, Fi seals the deal. It's an impressive skill, and one that I'm jealous of.

It's also the reason she's single. Fi delivers sex too soon. Her suitors accept the offer, obviously, but inside they're thinking ‘easy' or at least ‘too easy'. Bad news. In Manland, ‘easy' equates to: ‘great date, terrible girlfriend'. And while I'm on my soapbox, so do good looks – especially if they're all a girl has.

The most attractive woman I've ever dated had the ugliest personality of any woman I've ever met. Lisa was rude, she moaned constantly, she thought the world revolved around her. And it was all down to the overconfidence that her looks brought her. If she wanted a date, Lisa got one. A boyfriend? Lisa got one. Sex required? Lisa got it. One man vanished, another appeared.

Throughout her teens and 20s, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. She never failed in a mission, so she didn't have to confront her character flaws or consider why men like me rarely stuck around. Which was fine. She didn't need to be nice.

But how things have changed. I bumped into Lisa recently. Wow. She's a little bit older and suddenly she's been paralysed by the onset of spinsterphobia. She's been shaken up by the revelation that after a lifetime of being the hunted, she's now become the hunter – and the realisation that this is a skill she doesn't possess.

But being a great date isn't that hard. All you need to do is ask some questions. Listen to anecdotes. Engage. Hell, even compliment his aftershave, humour and, if it's not stretching it too far, his dress sense. Make sure he has a good time, then exit before revealing too much. Leave the men you date happy, yet intrigued and, believe me, you'll be monopolising their line of sight in no time.

Dear Toxic Bachelor

My boyfriend and I moved in together a month ago and we can't stop arguing over the housework. When we were dating, his flat was always tidy but now he's turned into a slob. It's driving me mad. What can I do?

Take off the marigolds, dump your knickers on the floor, pile your plates up in the sink and leave the bins to overflow. Play him at his own game.

Sure, the flat will be a mess. You'll hate it. But, crucially, so will he. Eventually he'll be forced to react. Can't handle the dirt? Impose a sex ban. Voila, the place is sparkling.