Tip Our Hats: Guys Who Have Tight "Morning After" Game

Holy hell, Spring is finally in full swing. Leaves are on the trees, co-ed softball players are back in the parks, and the sidewalk cafes are open for day-drinking pink wine. Famously cranky New Yorkers are positively smirking at each other as we walk the streets: our city has transformed, virtually overnight, from a frost-bitten no man's land (as in, No. Men. Anywhere.) into a sexy, sunlit film set peopled with hippie girls in tasteful crop tops (Don't try and tell me there's no such thing!) and broad-chested fellas in t-shirts and Ray Bans. It's a veritable buffet of pheromones out there, and you better believe that this girl is strolling the streets with her knife and fork in hand. Dinner...is served.

"Twitterpated," as Thumper said

And with all of this freshly minted sin comes the age-old dilemma: what's the protocol for The Morning After? It's basically the world's most-belated audition. You've won the role. Opening Night has come and gone. But in those crucial first few minutes of next-day haze, you can make or break the reviews. And there's nothing better than finding out that Mr. Last Night has moves in the light of day too.

Once I've spent the night at his place, there are four scenarios to contend with:

1. Neither of us have anywhere to be.
Morning sex. There is only one right answer, and this is it. Extra credit for a coffee machine with a timer so I can grab a cup of joe -- and a look at his butt in morning-after shorts -- on my way out the door.

2. He has somewhere to be, and I don't.
Nothing says, "Great and careful work, partner. We should do this again," like offering to let me stay in his bed after he leaves. Please note, however, that this is a carefully laid bear trap: take him up on the offer, and he's going to assume that you stayed to snoop. Which is even more damaging if that is, in fact, what happened. (Ladies, please, don't do this.)

3. I have somewhere to be, and he doesn't.
Full marks to any guy who throws on a pair of shorts (but only shorts -- see above re: getting a look at his butt) and walks me out. I get the satisfaction of a proper good-bye; he gets to go back to bed; I get to imagine him sprawling out and curling up with a pillow once I'm gone. A happy thought for the whole day.

4. We both have somewhere to be.
I'll need 10 minutes of uninterrupted bathroom time (including at least minimal access to soap, toothpaste, running water and a towel). He gets the same. Then, the crucial moment: will he awkwardly make me leave, then follow me out the door moments later? Will he insist on leaving together, only to split on the street corner with a hasty, "See you around"? Will he walk way too fast and leave me in his dust wondering what the hell I was thinking?

But a guy who doesn't make me rush down the street in last night's heels, suggests coffee or breakfast (You got me out to *shudders* Brooklyn; at least fortify me for the journey home!), then kisses me goodbye? Game on, sir. This was a pop quiz, and you've just aced it. See me after class for extra credit.