What if a website existed where you could write and give starred reviews of people you’ve gone on dates with? Like a Yelp for mating.

It can’t be that far from happening. It’s just taking Lulu one step further by allowing for more editorializing and then allowing both sexes to get involved in the action.

This scares the shit out of me, because I can’t imagine ever being reviewed well. When I think about this site coming into existence, these are some of the reviews I feel like I would garner:

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He showed up at the restaurant a couple of minutes late and as an explanation said that he had arrived early, actually, but had to finish his drink at the bar next door before coming over, because he “likes to tie a couple on” before going to meet a complete stranger who may one day end up being his wife. I was actually kind of impressed by his ability to relentlessly pound bourbon and still hold a conversation, until he texted me the next day and asked me if we had had a good date. “I blacked out, but you seemed fun,” he wrote. “Did we kiss?” 1.5 SMOOCHES.

This guy is a straight-up narcissist. We sat at a bar that had mirrors behind it, and I would catch him checking himself out like once every five minutes. And he was always running his hand through his hair in a way I think he thought was sexy or endearing or something but was just awkward, especially when he was doing it while there was obviously ranch dressing and chicken wing sauce still on his hand. Who eats wings on a first date???? What an idiot. He got it all over his shirt, too, and all he had to say for himself was “Well, these stains are never going to come out, but at least now I have a new shirt for wing-eating expeditions!” But he did pay. In quarters. (It was 25-cent wing night.) 1 SMOOCH.

Scott talked way too much about himself. I could barely get a word in. Now, I’m not one too judge too quickly. Maybe he was just nervous and uncomfortable with silence or something, but the thing was that his favorite topic about himself was how he was dealing with being unfriended on Facebook by his high school sweetheart and the bewilderment that ensued. It was more like I was his unwilling therapist than his date for the night. At one point, he even showed me a picture of her and was like “See? She’s not even that hot! And she was always weird about dudes going down on her. I need to get over it.” 0 SMOOCHES.

SCOTT IS THE GREATEST HE IS SO CUTE AND NICE AND NOW I WANT TO TALK TO HIM ALL OF THE TIME AND MAKE HIM MY BOYFRIEND ON FACEBOOK AND LIKE KISS HIS FACE AND HAVE VERY MEDIOCRE AND INEXPERIENCED SEX WITH HIM. I’M MEDIOCRE BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE MUCH EXPERIENCE BECAUSE I TEND TO SCARE GUYS AWAY BECAUSE I’M KIND OF INTENSE BUT I THINK SCOTT IS DIFFERENT AND WOULD REALLY KNOCK MY BOTTOM OUT AND THEN ASK ME TO MARRY HIM LIKE SOON! ALL OF THE SMOOCHES FOREVER AND EVER UNLESS HE LEAVES ME THEN I WILL CUT HIM.

Something is up with this guy. He was sweating profusely when we met up, and he went to the restroom like every 20 or 30 minutes. Obviously, he is on drugs. I’m fine with that. People do drugs. I do drugs. It happens. But just be honest with me about it. He had this bogus story about how he had to go to the bathroom a lot because he had an overactive bladder, and that he had never been able to figure out why he sweats so much more than your average human being, but that he thinks it’s because his body temperature runs a few degrees above the norm, “like, you know, the werewolves from Twilight.” He’s so full of shit but I’m desperate and I dig free drinks, and he’s a decent kisser (you almost have to kiss a guy if he unwittingly drops like $200 on booze for the two of you), so maybe I’ll see him again. 2.5 SMOOCHES.