“Arnold’s shooting up a bunch of ninja dudes while hanging off of a helicopter, but this girl just started holding my hand. What am I supposed to do? Should I pay attention to the movie, kiss her, make a joke, explain that Schwarzenegger is my hero or pull my weiner out? Does this mean she likes me? Do I have to meet her parents now? I have no idea! They never show you this part in the movies. Nobody’s ever told me this shit!”

Thoughts like these raced through my head while I watched “Last Action Hero” during my first ever date. “Saved By the Bell,” “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” never prepared me for this first-date awkwardness.

My 13-year-old mind didn’t know if I was supposed to write this girl poetry, drink malted milk shakes at the sock hop or stick my tongue as far as possible into her mouth. After Arnold saved the day, my date and I waited for our parents to pick us up. And then I never called her again.

Dating is a learning experience, and I’m the kind of dumbass who needs a mentor to hold his hand through all types of stuff, from downloading apps to using a hammer to combing my hair.

To a teenager who loved Limp Bizkit and JNCOs, sometimes the obvious wasn’t that obvious. I was (and still am) terrified of doing something that the girl doesn’t want me to do — or not doing something I should be doing. Maybe some type of class could help out with that.

I had questions for days, but I was too shy to ask anybody. Plus, I didn’t have an older brother, cousin, buddy or anybody. I had nobody to ask, so I didn’t.

Cute queries like: How do you kiss? How do you breathe while kissing? What happens next?

Or a little more serious: If I want to touch a girl’s boobs, do I ask first or am I just magically supposed to know when the time is right? What if she says no? What the hell should I do if she says yes?! How hard should I squeeze? Which part do I squeeze? For how long?

Not to surprise you, but Catholic school sex ed didn’t really teach me much about much. I assumed that every time you had sex, you had a baby. I thought condoms went all the way over your boy parts. I used to think guys were gay only because they couldn’t meet girls — which blew my high school mind because why couldn’t Freddie Mercury from Queen get any chick he wanted?

Boys need guidance on how to act before, during and after a date. Lesson one: If a girl says she won’t go out with you, maybe you shouldn’t take it as a personal insult.

Learning how to unhook a bra is a skill you can gain by trial and error, but there more serious lessons that shouldn’t be learned via a horrific screw up. Children shouldn’t learn about sex or relationships from hardcore porn or locker-room bullshit.

I sure as shit don’t want to teach this class, but why are there pick-up artist mentors but not date-like-a-decent-person advisors?

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