Ask Agatha: "Unrealistic" Dating Standards And When She's Just Not That Into You


Lisa from Washington, D.C. asks: 

My friends think my list is ridiculous. I want a guy that’s 6’2” and up, about 200 – 220lbs, athletic build, has a Master’s, makes six figures, no kids, no debt and isn’t a cheater. I myself bring a lot to the table so I feel like I shouldn’t have to lower my standards. Should I?


Most of us don’t bring as much to the table as we think we do but that doesn’t mean you should lower your standards, however ridiculous. I say it’s better to die never having found “the one” than to love with a guy who's 5’10” or less. In fact, every guy under 6’2” should walk into traffic, at night, wearing all black.

But seriously all of our lists are ridiculous. I drag my friend for her pygmy behind wanting a 6-footer but I myself insist on perfect nail beds. No seriously it’s a deal breaker for me. And a guy friend of mine laughs about it, while he waits on the woman that doesn’t want commitment. So go ahead and curate your list. Add everything that meets your fancy but when you actually go out, leave room for chemistry. Keep your eyes and your heart open to the character of the man.

And here’s something else. Another friend of mine listened to my long long list recently and told me “what you really want Agie is a man that’s quick to try and slow to react.” (Editor's note: Is this "friend" a Facebook meme?) And it’s such a simple sentence. Quick to try and slow to react but I swear a light bulb went off. All these superficial requirements aside that’s really at the heart of the type of man I want. So I suggest you figure out the same thing for yourself…the heart of the matter.

Toya from Atlanta, GA asks:

I’m one of a dozen youth leaders at a very large church in Decatur. Yeah, it’s a mega-church and the politics behind this volunteer position is insane. I feel like it’s becoming less about the kids and more about jockeying for position. Am I giving up on the kids if I give up?

My granny lived here in New York for a number of years before she passed and she used to go to this church in Brooklyn. And it was a nice church as churches go. And then one day the Reverend retired (which I guess is a thing) and a new Reverend was sent from headquarters (which I'm sure isn't a thing) in his place.

Now this new Reverend was tall and broad shouldered. He had reddish hair and light eyes. He had an easy smile and an open confidence. He was somewhere in his 50s but black men being the unicorns that they are, he could have said he was 35 and we’d have believed that too. Yes, he was handsome. A Barack-type before there were Barack types.


And at his introduction, after a quick scan of his bare ring finger, the congregation's collective panties dropped.

Sunday service soon became standing room only.

Women started volunteering for all sorts of non-Sunday related activities. Tuesday and Thursday bible study? Sign me up. Three-day church retreat? Sure! Friday night book drive? No, I’m not doing anything. I’m free. And impromptu potlucks started occurring on these occasions as women brought in their signature dishes for the Reverend to try since he looked like he was just wasting away.


He wasn’t.

Even my grandmother started wearing her long-line bra again and her pretty wig. And in the car ride home she’d swear to us his little fast self held on to her too long when he hugged her after service. I’d raise my eyes at this because I’m pretty sure it was my grandma offering hugs and not the reverend.


And then one Sunday, weaving it into the sermon ever so masterfully, and citing hours of prayer and meditation, the reverend announced he was looking for a wife. And several women in the pews half stood as if he'd said their name.

And so began the Hunger Games.

Reputations were ruined. Friendships were tested. The church finally met its goal for the building fund.(And seriously what church has ever met their monetary goals?)


And the Reverend was as good as his word. Less than six months later, he introduced the congregation to his future wife.

Everyone wanted to know how they met (she hadn’t been a member of the church to anyone’s knowledge, although I personally felt that had to have been a big part of her appeal). Everyone wondered what they could possibly have in common. People picked apart their level of affection to each other. For some it was too much PDA. For others, she was obviously frigid.


And then it got vicious. Some of the island women insisted that she’d buried his shoes in her backyard in order to keep him put. Some of the African women swore they saw a hoof peeking out from the long skirts she favored.

But despite all the rumors and all the machinations to break them up…the Reverend married her anyway and it tore the church apart.


So what did the Reverend do?

He decided to leave what had become a very politically charged and incredibly toxic situation. His job is to tend to his flock but not, I think, at the cost of his own well-being. So he took his wife and he left that church.


In his final sermon, wearily he said, “There are other churches.”

And there are.

Jordan from Brooklyn, NY asks:

I work for FedEx and there’s this girl that works the front desk for one of my business accounts. They ship a lot of packages so I see her almost everyday and we chitchat all the time. She’s real cute. A little feisty. I’m definitely about it but I can’t get a read on her. I asked her for her number and she gave it to me. I text her everyday but especially on weekends because those are the days I don’t see her but her replies are always on a damn delay. But then every so often she’ll send me a funny meme and we’ll talk for a bit and then silence. So a couple days ago I made a not too sly reference to me wifing her up one-day and she hit me with this stinkface emoji. My boys are telling me shoot my shot. Should I?


Your boys clearly just wanna watch the world burn.


You’ve been curved.

Boys tend not to tell their boys when they don’t have a shot in hell just as much as girls tend to tell their girls they’re “thick” and not “fat.” Either way, friends lie.


But I’m not your friend.

She’s just not that into you bruh.

She may have given you her number because she has to see you everyday or because that was the day the person she really like started posting pics of him and bae on vacation or because she’s hoping for a follow on the Gram. But none of her reasons have to do with liking you.


If she hits you up at all, it’s just because she’s trying to keep you pacified so it’s isn’t awkward for the five minutes she sees you everyday for the rest of her time at that job.

But you don’t believe you’re being curved do you? You wrote in looking for an affirmation.



Ask her out on a date then and let me know how that goes.

Agatha is a figment of the collective VSB imagination. Don't @ me.



What I gather from the comments.
Men: We hate talking on the phone and prefer text
Women: Why are y'all only texting? What's wrong with having a real conversation with voices?
Everyone:Single AF