There’s a tricky time period when you happen to meet somebody who you are attracted to.

In my opinion, it’s extremely tacky and cliche to blatantly hit on someone upon first meeting them. Okay, so maybe if you’re at a bar, and you’re both drunk (or at least you are drunk), then all rules are off.

But when you’re sober, and you’re formally introduced, and you know that you will be seeing this person again, that is when it gets tough.

I say it’s tough because if the two of you were to ever launch into some type of romantic escapade, whether it be hooking up, a fling, or dare I say it — an actual relationship, then your time to accomplish this is limited.

Firstly, there is at least a two-week, or rather, a four-or-five-encounter grace period. That grace period should give you enough time to actually get to know the person, and discover a) if you are both are single (you can never ask obviously; you just have to hope that you never hear a mention of the significant other), and b) if there is chemistry.

You accomplish this through casual conversations. Pay attention to eye contact, and try to note just how interested this person is in you. Because, let’s face it, if she has no attraction towards you, then she probably doesn’t care about you that much. Also, if she laughs at all your jokes then that is probably a good thing too.

This two-week grace period is a good time to, first, Facebook friend them, and secondly, to casually get their phone number in a suave, casual way. If both those tasks go smoothly, then you’re on the right track.

If there is indeed chemistry, then, so begins “the window” phase. What this means, is that you have to act fast. During this window, which I say lasts a good few weeks, things are new and exciting. The two of you know enough about each other to know you like the other person, and you don’t know enough bad traits to scare you away, since it’s so new.

So that is when you make your move. If you let “the window” pass, then things get troublesome. That’s when questions arise, and you start having second thoughts.

These thoughts are “Hmm, maybe this person doesn’t actually like me,” or, “you know what, I don’t actually like this person that much,” etc. Thus, that is why you have to act during “the window.” If you wait too long and miss it, it becomes extremely awkward. The sexual tension may still be there, but yet, there’s this weird dynamic that will deter you two from ever becoming actual friends. Also, the girl in this situation will probably think you are gay.

Of course, if you are unattractive, then none of this applies. From the moment you first laid eyes on the object of your affection, you were always destined for the friend-zone. Sorry, bud.

So if you’re ever debating asking a girl out, the key is folks, to do it during “the window.” Yeah, yeah, I know you’ll find some excuse to say why “you aren’t ready,” and that you are “just biding your time,” but the truth is, you’re probably just a pussy. Man up. Don’t let the window close.

But my question is, what if you work together? Does the window period shorten or elongate? For one thing, it expedites the process. Since you see each other daily, you get to know each other quicker, and thus are able to ascertain more information to help you decide whether you like this person or not. It could work to both your extreme advantage and disadvantage.

Additionally, since you are around this person so often, it gives you more opportunities to find the right time to ask somebody out. It really is an interesting dynamic, and something that needs to be explored further. I honestly don’t really know the answer to the question.

But either way, “the window” still applies. If three, four or five months go by, and you still haven’t made a move, then it’s over.

At the very least, even if you get rejected, at least you still gave it a shot and maintained your pride, am I right people? Our pride is really all we have.

So my advice to all you pussies who think she may be out of your league, is to man up, and make sure you act during the appropriate time. Once that window closes, it’s not opening again, my friend.

I have always been a fan of tennis. First and foremost, it’s one of the most fun sports to play. Unlike sports such as basketball, baseball and football, tennis is a complete individual effort, and that is one of the things I like about it. You don’t have teammates or coaches to give you a boost when you need it. It’s all on you.

Not many sports test your personal will, drive and inner strength more than tennis. And not to mention that it is a terrific workout.

So that is why I love the sport and why I have the utmost respect for professional tennis players. Back in the day, I was an Andre Agassi guy through and through. He was my favorite, and I always rooted for him over Sampras, even though Pete got the best of him most of the time. I also was a big Steffi Graf fan.

Unfortunately, American tennis sucks now. But the sport is still great.

And then one day in 2004, a 17-year-old girl came out of nowhere and defeated the powerhouse Serena Williams to win Wimbledon. Her name was Maria Sharapova. Since then I’ve always been a fan.

But it wasn’t until a few years ago, when Ms. Sharapova grew up and transformed from a tennis wunderkind to a professional women when I really fell in love with her.

In my mind, she is absolutely stunningly beautiful and nobody else in this world is prettier than her.

And it wasn’t just her looks that made me love her. Okay, maybe it was. But a few years ago, I suddenly found myself finding every interview she’s ever done, every video she’s ever been in, and watching them all. For a girl who has really been in the media spotlight her entire life, she just gets it. She knows not to take things too seriously, and most importantly, no matter how many microphones are in her face, she is always herself. She could not be more down to earth.

And what really solidifies my love for her is her determination on the court. She’s not even close to being the most athletic tennis player out there, in fact, she’s actually kind of awkward-looking when she plays tennis. She rarely dominates matches, but she always manages to win. The reason being is because, plain and simply, she wants it more.

Also, bear in mind that she is set for life financially. With her endorsements and her own clothing lines, she could have retired five years ago and moved to Cancun and lived out the rest of her life on a beach. Yet, she still plays the game, still works harder than anyone, and that’s because she wants to be the best. Unfortunately, she only has three grand slams to her name.

My biggest shame in life is that Maria and I never had a chance encounter in somehow. Even if it was just for five minutes. Somehow, miraculously, I think that five minutes would be all of the time I need to convince her that we should be together.

First of all, her and I have a lot in common.

I was born on April 7, 1987.

Maria was both on April 19, 1987 — just 12 days apart!

And the similarities actually end there, really. But that pretty much makes us soul mates.

I can’t help but find myself, every time Maria Sharapova is performing live on television, rooting for her harder than I have ever rooted for anything else. The reason I bring this up is because she is playing in the semifinals in the Australian Open in a couple of hours, and you’re damn right I will be watching.

You know how couples will often make their “top 5 list”, comprised of celebrities, and if by some miracle, one of them ever comes across someone on their list, they are allowed to flirt with them, and their significant other can’t object?

Well, I wouldn’t even need to make that list. I could be happily married, and love my wife more than anything in the world, and yet, if I came across Maria Sharapova, I would gladly — without a moment’s hesitation — sacrifice my marriage just to have a chance with her. In my mind, it would be absolutely worth it.

Well worth it indeed.

Everybody has a celebrity crush. For me, it will always be Maria Sharapova.

Every year when I go to the dentist for my cleaning, the same exact thing happens.

I tell my oral hygienist, “I’ve made much more of an effort this year!”

She responds, “Great. Open up and we’ll see.”

And then she proceeds to say that I, in fact, am doing a terrible job taking care of my teeth, and that if I continue at this pace, it could become a bigger issue, and most importantly, I need to floss every day.

What the hell? This year, I started brushing twice a day. Once in the morning and once in the evening. I even use mouthwash once a day. I’m pretty sure flossing isn’t the one missing piece of the puzzle that would lead my mouth towards vintage, pristine health.

I think dentists are just perfectionists, and that no matter how white my teeth are, I would still be told that I need to improve.

Honestly, who the hell actually wants to take time out of their day to floss? It just is not something that I could bring myself to do. My normal bathroom process involves: brush teeth, shower, cleanse, wash hair, dry, leave. Flossing doesn’t fit anywhere in that mix.

Additionally, I don’t know any one who flosses, either. When does the word “floss” actually come up in casual conversation? Also, I crash at people’s houses often. When I use their bathroom, I don’t see a pack of dental floss sitting at the forefront of their display (Yes, I check the display.)

To me, dental floss seems like such an antiquated object. There’s no better tool that we can discover that will get the job done? I actually have to take a string, maneuver it between two hands, and slide it between my teeth? It is way too tedious and just too much work.

Or better yet, there should be some type of toothbrush that incorporates flossing. That way, you are killing two birds with one stone. Either way, shouldn’t a toothbrush get all of the food remnants out of your teeth? Where is all this tartar coming from when the dentist cleans my teeth, anyway? I’m half-convinced that she plants it there herself when examining my teeth, just so she could tell me that I need to do better.

Heck, even the word “floss” is so freaking dull.

I’m curious if there are people out there who floss their teeth as part of their daily routine. That it’s so commonplace that they don’t even realize that they are flossing. That if they don’t floss, they don’t feel complete for the rest of the day.

Lastly, I’m 100% certain that if I were to floss every day for the next year, that when I return to my dentist, I would still be told that I need to floss. You just can’t win with these people.

Upon going to the dentist last week, and being told that I needed to floss more, I asked my dentist if she had free floss I could have, and she gave it to me. I have absolutely no idea what I did with it, and I can’t find it anywhere. If that isn’t a sign from God that flossing is absolutely unnecessary and worthless, then I don’t know what is.

Or it could just be a sign that I am an idiot.

I was meandering around the Internet the other day, when I came across this profound question:

You can choose two of the following three choices about the kind of person you can be. For the the one you don’t choose, you would be the complete opposite.

a. You are rich, worth about 100 million dollars. If you don’t choose this, you are poor at about the welfare level, where once in a while you have to miss a meal.

b. You are extremely good-looking, well hung, and make love like a porn star. If you don’t choose this, you are physically repulsive with a micro penis and horrible in bed.

c. You are a certified genius, Einstein/Stephen Hawking level IQ. If you don’t choose this you are a few IQ points above being retarded.

Which two would you choose?

Keep in mind that you are stuck with your choices. For example, you can’t use your high intelligence to make money. Or you can’t use your riches to have penis enlargement surgery.

Okay, so I thought long and hard about this, and I came to the conclusion that I would choose B and C. Hear me out.

On the surface, the most practical answers would be A and C, while sticking with the logic that “looks aren’t everything.”

Well, call it shallow, but I don’t care. I could live with being horrible in bed (sex is still sex), and may even be able to live with the micro penis (as long as it works — again, sex is still sex), but I absolutely can not live while being physically repulsive, and knowing that every single time I glance in a girl’s direction, she will think, “man, that is one ugly dude.” No amount of money or intelligence could ever make me live with that. So that solidifies choice B.

Then the question comes down to, brains or money?

Well, the question is a little absurd in the fact that if I was really that brilliant, there’s no way in hell that I wouldn’t, at the very least, be able to make ends meet. If I had an Einstein/Stephen Hawking-level IQ, I’m fairly certain that I would be able to get a job and make some amount of money.

But, regardless, I’d still take the brains anyway.

I understand that if I had $100 million and was borderline retarded, then I would basically be the male Paris Hilton. I could still be extremely successful and since I’m blissfully ignorant to all of the world problems (since I’m os dumb), then I’d be permanently happy. But what mark would I make on the world?

Here is what the fundamental question comes down to, in my mind:

If you simply just want to just live a fun life, and not much else, then you take the money. There is no shame in that whatsoever. You wouldn’t have to work a day in your life, you can travel across the globe, and buy whatever the hell you want at any given time. That’s not too shabby of a life, if I may say.

However, if you actually would like to make a difference in the world, and maybe become some sort of technological pioneer a la Steve Jobs, then you take the brains. It’s really what gives you more kicks.

For me, nothing would give me more joy in the world than to be extremely intelligent. Not because I want to be smarter than everyone and act like I’m better than everyone (I do that anyway), but because I want to make a difference.

I want to actually leave my mark in this world in an extremely positive way. If I really was that smart, then I am sure I would be able to find a way to do that. And at the end of the day, I would want to know that I did it myself. That I did it because of nobody but me. No money in the world could buy that for me.

So I would take the brains and the looks, and gladly be poor. If you’re smart, then you’d be able to figure out how to make it through life on a day-to-day basis, and how to please a woman without having money to throw at her. Especially if I was “extremely good-looking.”

Honestly, if this question was proposed, I’d say the most commonly selected option would be B. You can say whatever you want, but being good-looking is extremely important in life. There’s no way to sugarcoat that universal truth. If you look good, you are more likely to succeed in this world.

There is no denying the importance of being a genuinely good person as well, but that is really just a bonus.

So what would you choose?