Relationship Red Flags

Listing Friendster.com status as “single.”
You are forced to watch him play the home-version of “Dance, Dance Revolution.”
He had my birthday tattooed on the back of his head in the form of a bar code, then shaved his head so everyone could see it. Cashiers used to always pretend to scan him when we went shopping. When we broke up, he told me the tattoo signified “the day my best friend died.”
She only came over because I have air conditioning. (It was a really hot summer.)
He has a personalized license plate with his initials (that also happen to spell out his favorite soft drink).
After a month of courtship, the sex ends and you become jealous of all the time he spends with his best friend.
He leaned over and hocked a big spitball out the window. During sex. Without stopping. It was really, really, really unfortunate timing.
He programmed his own version of Evite.com, because it wouldn’t allow him to invite enough people to his party.
When you play music in the apartment, you want to die of embarrassment when he dances. (Not because he is a terrible dancer but because he thinks he is extraordinarily cool and hip while doing so). I cannot listen to that Modest Mouse CD anymore.
He mentions that he still snuggles with his ex-girlfriend/roommate at night. “But don’t worry,” he says, “it’s like we’re siblings, not lovers.”
When you move in with him, he still lives with his ex and his ex still pays your new partner’s portion of the rent.
My (now ex-) husband brought a laptop on our honeymoon so he could play video games. When I think of the honeymoon, I remember the sound of the agonized moans of dying computer monsters: “Ugggg! Arghhhh!” Not exactly the kind of moans I’d hoped for . . .
He flirts with all the other women in the room—even at a family function.
When someone else’s little lacy panties are hanging off the bathroom doorknob.
Even today, you still are unsure if he is gay or straight.