Somewhere along the line, it’s important to realize that you and your lady are matched because you complement each other’s traits well. The two of you are not the same. You (hopefully) share values, ideas and plans. But many times, sharing friends is another thing entirely. Men and women both look to bond with their genders for different reasons. I’m going to delve DEEP into the world of gender-based stereotypes, so bear with…

As I see it, women bond to do one of a few things:

a) Collect and/or horde items. Many of us call this shopping, but sometimes it comes in the form of its cousin: “window shopping.” Fair enough. I look at it as practicing the vital nesting skill that is typically linked to creating a comfortable home environment.

b) Compete with other women for the attention of men in a collective social setting while under the influence. I call this one “clubbing,” as in, we should go back to the Neanderthal days and skip the two-drink-minimum-small-talk in favor of a thud over the head and drag through the door.

c) Communicate about their life’s goals, fears, dreams, relationships, family values, and trifling-ass men.

Conversely, men bond to do almost the same things that women do, but in different forms:

a) To collect items. We usually collect tools, toys and gadget made for selfish amusement. Furniture may extend the limits of our “eye for design,” but when you go into four out of five single guys’ cribs you’ll often see the same black/brown/white leather couch and a version of the same “entertainment center” to house his DVDs, video games and remote controls.

b) To compete with other men for the attention of women. Our competition often involves the display of aforementioned toys in a collective social setting, or The Modern Day Clubbing that we employ when we buy drink after drink after drink for said women’s UNDIVIDED attention.

c) To compete by way of sportive activity on a field, court, or brown/black/white leather couch over video games.

I bring up these bonding activities as a point of diversity. Although we rarely share in them across sexes, they quite resemble each other. The chemistry of mixing them will never work. If I go out to shop with you and your friends, ultimately I’ll be choosing between the yellow blouse (that’s sooooo cute but out of season) or that blue skirt (that would look great on your friend but not you; you two deliberate on that…it’s fine…I’ll wait). Or, I’ll be subjecting myself to a lot of “woooooo girl you know that’s my song” if I take the clubbing trip, wondering if I met you and saw this same behavior as absolutely desirable at a point. And, yes, I did. I could, in theory, be a passive observer in the group-think session women do, but I would either be the what’s-the-male-perspective on an issue I care little about or the defend-every-man’s-crude-ways person. Pass.

The same goes for my girlfriend in my settings. First off, she’s got to be able to withstand the (ahem) human fumigation that goes on when I hang out with a group of close friends. Assuming her lungs are strong, she still may not be able to withstand the arguments over Madden or NBA Live. To a woman, I imagine this must look like a bunch of screaming apes beating their chests and throwing their shit around. If we’re at the basketball court, I scarcely expect her to understand or tolerate why my one homey will show the extent of his bitchassness by arguing over foul calls, which delays the game about 25 minutes on average and looks almost identical to the Madden/NBA Live argument. As people, we understand some of the nature of the opposite sex but it goes further than our natural sense of empathy. So if you want to understand your partner as an individual and thrive with her as such, do not observe her behaviors in a group. That’s social science at work. It has less to do with who she is as a person than who she becomes when it makes sense to bond. The important thing is that you each have time to do those things, whether it be blouse comparisons or chest-beating. Combine them at your own risk.

Think of men as comparable to these guys:

Celibacy In 2011: Does She Have To Give It Up?

Six Reasons To Date More Than One Man At A Time

Last week, my blushing bride and I celebrated one year of wedded bliss. Of course, gifts were in order. And, even though the first anniversary is supposed to be the paper anniversary, I knew better than to come home with a bag from Staples. It would never be that “easy.” All this made me think about that delicate art of husband gift-giving.

See, the thing is, women rarely tell you what they want when it comes to giving them a gift. They’d rather you go all Sherlock Holmes to figure out what it is they want. Fortunately for me, when asked, the Mrs. will tell me – usually in great detail – what it is she wants.

But there’s always that x-factor gift. That one thing she mentioned when you two were walking through the mall, or that little item she said looked nice on another woman (and here you are thinking it was a trap). Those are the gifts they really want. Those are the gifts that earn you “points” (more on that later). But they are also the most difficult because 1) men rarely read between the lines and 2) we don’t know we had to. We were too busy assuming you really would tell us. How dumb of us. ;)

So, ladies, if you really want something, just let a brother know… for real. And dudes, always listen to your woman. It will help you in more ways than one.

A lot of women in New York sure are a scary bunch of high-class, unstable fashionistas…but you really are gorgeous, though. With all that, I have yet to find a girl who can compliment this 25-year-old writer for your favorite place to be, Hello, Beautiful. Hi, my name is Kevin L. Clark and I’m… Single in the City.

It’s not that I have a laundry list of requirements just to have Ms. Right on my team. Maybe dating in the city that never sleeps is harder for a guy who rarely gets any (Get it? LOL!). For instance, I was on a date with a young lady who was mixed with all parts of the world. But, as the night continued, I learned that that would come to mean oh so much more.

We had dinner at one of my favorite spots in Brooklyn, Night of the Cooker, and yours truly had Ms. PYT on his arm, ready to enjoy a night of good music and grand schemes! Baby girl looked right, ping, bang, POW! We decided on Night of the Cooker because she thought the “atmosphere always puts me in a certain kind of mood;” I liked it because the drinks are on point!

As we waited for our waiter, it’s always polite to have proper dinner conversation, right, ladies? So, I asked her about her day; she says, “Fine.” I asked her about her job; she said, “It’s fine.” I asked her if she knew how good she looked and she said, “I know I look fine,” with a slight chuckle. “Cute,” I thought to myself.

But something wasn’t right. She seemed…familiar…

Wanting to know more, I asked her if she liked to cook. She talked about being able to cook three of my favorite dishes: lasagna, gumbo and that “soul food classic” – chicken, cornbread and collard greens! Damn, shawty was looking sexy as hell to me by then! When the waiter came to take our orders, I let honey dip go first… “Salad,” she whispered all shy and coy! I gave her that “I-know-you-want-a-rib-girl” look and she played me sideways. All the while her stomach sounds like DMX growlin’ and barkin’ at Wal-Mart security!

If it’s one thing I hate, it’s a shy chick (copyrighted by Lil Wayne); I never understood why one wouldn’t be able to “take off your cool,” as Mos Def would say. Regardless, I excused myself to wash my hands before our food arrived. On my way back, I walked up behind my cutie to give her a kiss on the cheek. Now, her fast and furious fingers on the Blackberry almost hypnotized me, but the word that caught my attention made me grateful for the inadvertent eavesdrop.

The message read: “Can I suck your chocolate @#%$?!” Now, normally this would have made me want to skip dinner because textin’ another dude when you’re out with this dude is something you must not do. But the funny thing is…she’d sent me the same message a couple days before that! Ladies, can I get a _________! Good thing I never gave her that kiss… I tapped her on the shoulder, smiled, and Jesse Owens’d it out of there before she could have Jesse Jackson’d me! I guess she was mixed with a lot of “parts” of the world… In the end, it paid to listen to Eddie Murphy back in the day…

Wanna read more about my zany adventures? Be sure to check out “Don’t Lose Your Day Job“ over at TheUrbanDaily.com!

When I was married, my single friends would tell me all their horror stories about meeting crazy people and wasting perfectly good Friday and Saturday nights on folks who were not worth the time. I would shake my head and say, “I’m so glad I don’t have to go through that!” Unfortunately, a short time later, I found myself single and dealing with the trials of finding that someone special. Just like many of my friends, I too had bad experiences.

One Friday night, I went out with a couple of co-workers to celebrate a birthday. Nothing special, just some drinks at your neighborhood Friday’s. (Why do black folks love Friday’s so much? I think it has to do with the Jack Daniels sauce that they put on everything). Anyway, back to Friday night. While I’m chillin’ at the bar with my folks, I see a chick on the other side of the bar giving me a serious mean mug. I mean, this sister is looking at me as if I’d pushed her in the water at one of those pool parties that black folks have where nobody actually swims. It took me a few minutes before I realized who she was, and that’s when I started to panic. Let me explain.

A few months ago, I got a random message on my MySpace page from said female. She was commenting on the song I had playing on my page, and wanted to compliment me on my good taste in music. We had a brief conversation that day, and chatted a couple of times afterwards. About a week later, she sent me a message saying that her birthday was coming up, and she wondered if I would like to meet her for a drink. I’m always down for some libations, so I suggested we meet on Thursday after work. She agreed. Well, I had a hectic week at work, and when the day we are supposed to meet came around, I completely forgot about it and went directly home. I got a nasty message that night expressing how janky I am, and that she isn’t usually treated so shabbily. Fast forward to Friday night!