There are categories of people you just shouldn't sleep with, ever.
One distinct type is The Mess. This is the girl who calls you sobbing because she can't remember the night before and insists it's because someone slipped her something. It had nothing to do with the 12 kamikazes she inhaled at the bar, and the person who saw her licking a random guy's face on the Later Gator is a liar. The male version of The Mess can quaff a keg, yet he is miraculously cool to drive then grabs your arm and hisses slurred, nonsensical insults at you if you suggest otherwise. This guy has soiled himself publicly, but he doesn't know that.
Another bad idea is the "It's Over For Good" person. These people have broken up with their boyfriend or girlfriend and reconciled every other day for the past two years, but tonight "it's over for good." You're mid-conversation when the so-called ex calls. They silence the call with a roll of their eyes. Soon, their ringtone blasts every 30 seconds with maniacal desperation. They moan that they have to take the call from their psycho ex and make a speedy exit.
Once hidden in another room, the tough act dissipates instantaneously. Their voice drops to a pleading whimper and the whining commences: "Baby, I swear I'm not with anyone. My phone was on silent. Listen, I'm about to watch a movie, and then I'll probably pass out. Love you too, talk to you - who's that? No, I heard someone. Who are you with? WHO ARE YOU WITH?" When they return, coolly nonchalant, they explain how difficult it was to have dated such an insecure stalker. "Thank God it's over," they sigh while snuggling up to you. The morning after, "It's Over For Good" will be back with their girlfriend or boyfriend, and the cycle will repeat every other day for the next two years. It's annoying enough being friends with "It's Over For Good." Don't make the mistake of sleeping with them.
When dating, be aware of Douchebaggery. It's an oft-referenced concept, but it's one that nevertheless exists in rampant abundance. Your standard Douchebag can be found demanding respect (it's a sick fixation), bragging, hitting on girls he has no chance with, insulting the girls he does have a chance with, mocking a gay guy's outfit without realizing he's wearing the same thing and commenting on other guys' lats or bedazzled T-shirts. He swears he was a walk-on for the Gators until he injured his leg. Yet a Douchebag can also be the snotty pseudo-intellectual who references Foucault one time too many, which is once.
Douchebagettes, the female counterparts, tilt their head at the same 45-degree angle while flashing a peace sign, maybe two, in every. single. picture. These girls complain about how much they hate drama, then throw an arbitrary tantrum moments later when another girl makes the grave mistake of glancing in the prima donna's direction. All forms of Douchebags thrive on their own egos. If they feel bloated, there will be no sex that day. Any matter you deem personal will become public fodder on their Facebook status. Don't do a Douche.
These are just some basic types to watch out for when dating, although there are definitely more. They range from The Leech, an ill-conceived one-night stand who transforms into an agonizingly dependent tagalong, to The Bipolar Babe/Beefcake, who might be both the sexiest and most psychotic person you know. Shameful as it may be, we can all identify with at least some of the aforementioned unbecoming elements. Drunk dialing, for instance, is just a person briefly embracing their inner Mess, which is perfectly permissible. Just make sure you don't become the source of a new definition.
