During what part of puberty, sex ed or birds-and-bees embarrassment do young men learn that barn yard noises are an optimal way to catch the attention of the opposite sex?

I don’t remember this ever being an issue growing up in New Hampshire (there, the barnyard noises came from actual barnyards), and I’ve learned that our young male neighbors up north have chosen a silent-but-deadly method. Possibly this is an American big-city technique.

When has a kissy-noise (works for cats), hoot (works for owls), whistle (works for cows and canines), or a general holler (works for swine) EVER resulted in a phone number — a real one — and/or a date?

It certainly gets a girl’s attention, but once she realizes where the noise came from and that it was directed at her, the last thing she’s going to do is come running over gushing about how flattered she feels.

I know communicating verbally isn’t the most appealing thing in the world these days (sadly) but if you find somene attractive enough to say something, then do just that. SAY SOMETHING.

Because making random noises is just going to make you look like a goober with Tourette’s, and that’ll get you nowhere.

You’re better off hanging out on the farm, where your outbursts will be welcomed.

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There comes a point when the persistent contact — no matter how much time passes between texts/pings/drive-bys — becomes stalker-like and you need to realize you don’t appear endearing or sweet.

You’re creepy.

What’s my inspiration for this post, you ask? Well it’d be my pleasure to share.

Met a guy while waiting for a friend at the airport. Seemed cool, gave him my work email to contact me.

SIDENOTE: Offering a work email or phone number in lieu of something more direct is sign #1 that the chick isn’t 100% sure how she feels about you, but is curious enough to give it a try. Keep that in mind — it is NOT a sign she’s totally digging you and can’t wait for you to invite her to Sizzler and a matinee.

He contacted me and we went out for tapas and a movie. Everything was fine until the movie, which I should have enjoyed immensely (“The Hangover”) but was unable to concentrate on as a result of being 1st-base-raped.

His hand caressed and grabbed my thigh (thank god there was a denim barrier), touched my arm and shoulder, and remained in contact with some part of my body for 7/8 of the film.

If this were date #5, and/or we’ve gotten to know each other longer than 20 minutes, it might have felt sweet and sent tingles up my skin.

But this was date #1, and our relationship at that point was comprised of a 15-minute convo at Los Angeles International and three text messages. Get your fucking hands off of me, weirdo.

The guy proceeded to ask me out on a second date via FacebookChat — HUGE NO-NO — and text message almost every day. I told him I’d call him when I had some free time, which was 85% true: I had just begun a two-month streak of travel, deadlines and no free time to date. Thank god I was busy, because I didn’t want to go out again.

So when he continued to bother contact me every day despite my request for him to hold off until I called him, any minor percentage of desire to see him again diminished.

One day two months later, I received a text message:

Cute.

I responded simply and honestly:

“I was never pissed. I told you I’d contact you when I was ready, and your constant contact has shown you didn’t take me seriously and that’s a serious turn-off. I am not interested in pursuing anything further.”

You’d think that’d free me from him. Nope.

Month later:

Uh…

Then twice, one month apart from one another, I get this:

You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’m buying mace and a pitbull.

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He checked in, asked about Halloween plans and then mentioned he found a good seafood restaurant we should hit up — “sometime in November.”

Our last face-to-face convo included talk about getting dinner sometime, after finding we shared a mutual affection for seafood restaurants on the coast.

I know we’re both busy, but I’m not super into making plans a month in advance. I advance-schedule dental exams, pap smears and family visits — not dinner dates.

I kinda don’t want to respond to the email. I know I should, it’s rude to just ignore a person, but what should I say?

“Dinner sounds great, but November’s no good for me. How’s your 2010 look?”

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The way you initially make contact is judged. The way you go about asking the girl on a date is judged. And you’d better believe that the place you choose to take the girl on that date is judged and can often make or break the rendezvous.

Example: A girl meets you at a coffee shop. You talk for a half hour and, once she confirms you’re not a serial killer and/or animal abuser she gives you her number and suggests you call her sometime.

After the customary waiting period (which is stupid; call her when you want to) you call (NOT TEXT) and ask her out after work that week. This will be your first date — DO NOT take her to a watering hole known locally as the bar you hit when you want to get royally fucked up and wasted.

Because when you say, “Hey, let’s go to the Snake Pit, you know that place?” you’re inadvertently telling the girl that you want to get her royally fucked up and wasted. And unless your previous 30-minute conversation included discussion of her joy of alcoholism and herpes scares, that’s not the best impression to give.

So please select wisely when deciding on a place to have your first real conversation with the girl you like enough to spend half of a Benjamin on.

Avoid:

• Loud places
• Crowded places
• Places that don’t have chairs
• Places that only serve drinks with umbrellas and twisty straws
• Places that smell like meat
• Places that smell like sex

Follow this criteria and you’re more likely to go out on a second date. I promise.

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