Leave a note
In the age of technology, the bedside note has become a lost art. And if you were far too busy tearing each other’s clothes off last night to exchange contact info, come sunrise, there’s something quaint about leaving a short-and-sweet note before you slip out the door. Don’t write a novel, though -- a first name, phone number, and smiley face will get your point across.
No panties left behind
Ugh, don’t be that person who pulls the Cinderella trick. It's the oldest one in the book. Forgetting something important like your grandfather’s watch on the table tells your “date” that you’re either scatterbrained or setting the stage for a reason to come back to their place. Surrendering an article of less importance like underwear or socks says that you’re leaving your mark the same way a dog pees on the curtains. None of these gestures are attractive. Be an adult and make sure you have all of your belongings before departing. If the night went well -- forgotten clothing or not -- they'll text you back.
Don't social media stalk (yet)
Riding the subway home basking in a strange combination of indignity and pride is NOT the time to find a pocket of cell service and Facebook friend the person whose house you JUST left. She’s not even awake yet! Don’t even risk scrolling through Instagram -- you're likely hungover, so a slip of the finger due to sub-par motor skills could lead to an accidental “like,” which will earn you the “stalker” label. Play it cool and abide by the three-day rule -- if you’re the impatient kind, at least wait until after 5pm that night.
Surviving All Saints' Day
Maintaining your self-worth the day after a Halloween sexcapade is its own animal. My friends and I have actually made a brunch game out of THIS spectacle: on Nov 1, post up by a diner window and sip your mimosa every time a slutty devil/slutty cat/slutty Crayola crayon hobbles by like a wounded fawn. The double standard is this: we’ve all done it (probably in college), but we’re still going to laugh at your misfortune and mangled Katy Perry costume. Don’t give anyone that satisfaction. Request an Uber to get you door to door. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200, do not stop at Starbucks, and go straight to jail (I mean, home).
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Brooke Sager is a contributing writer for Thrillist who lives in NYC, but is on a first-name basis with the Dunkin’ Donuts employees in Hoboken, New Jersey. Hopefully that has nothing to do with the hair extensions hanging out of her purse. Follow her clothed adventures on Instagram and Twitter @HIHEELZbrooke.