Hey girl hey,
I know that our first date is not until tomorrow night but our mutual friend has informed me that you have never dated an HBSer. As such, it is only fair that I alert you to what is in store.
First, please do not be alarmed: I am (for the most part) a normal, male adult. I enjoy football and craft beers. I look good in pink but take some convincing to wear it. I am pleasant at dinner parties.
That being said, I do have some “eccentricities” that warrant explanation. Some of which are common among men at HBS.
I am prone to being misunderstood. Believe me: I am incredibly interested in you. It’s just sometimes that interest takes the form of me talking about myself. I want to share my passions with you, that’s why we (or rather, I) have been talking about Star Trek for the past hour. And it’s not my fault that I have a lot of opinions on the twitter IPO, you brought up the topic when you said you were interested in birds. What else was I supposed to do with that?
When I say I dabble in startups, what I mean is that I have had some experience working with founders. And when I say I’ve had some experience with founders, I mean Drew Houston came to my section and answered my seatmate’s question but looked at me the whole time. So, you know, we interact. Anyway, I just want to impress you.
My turn-ons include carry, leverage, and vignettes. I find it hot when my date builds on my last point. Just a heads up, I do this weird thing when I kiss where I spell out all of the words from my admissions essays. Don’t worry each is very interesting.
In case of a lull in the conversation, I have prepared these potential topics of discussion:
– Sexiest MBTI? I think it’s INTP.
– Excel 2003 really was the golden age, wasn’t it?
– What’s the best country you’ve been to this month?
– MFK: Dimon, Blankfein, Schwarzman?
If I negotiate with you at the end of the night, please don’t be put off. CPD says negotiating is a necessary step before closing, and I’m trying to close. If I seem bold, I’m just anchoring. You say handshake at your doorstep, I counter with kids and a summer home outside of Vail because Aspen is so 2002. You don’t want our children to get teased at Exeter/Andover/Choate, do you? Anyway, can I come up?
But realistically we both know how this thing will go down. We’ll hit some mixology bar that your friend recommended, fake laugh at each other’s jokes, and then realize it’s “getting late” all of a sudden and head home. We won’t text each other and you probably won’t even remember me until your friend mentions that she wants to set you up with an HBS guy and you’ll tell her about this letter and our date and say “I don’t date HBS guys.”Either that or we’ll get hammered and make out at the bar. And when your friends ask how it went you can tell them you may have met the next Zuckerberg because (did I mention?) I dabble in startups.
Seems like a win-win – especially for you!