Tuesday, September 23, 2008

The Rule Book

I realize it's been months since I've managed to post and I was planning to rectify that this very evening! But alas, other plans have since been made. Here's a stopgap for you that I still find amusing.

With apologies to a very witty man, who, unfortunately, must forgo his properly due acknowledgement because he shall be the subject of an upcoming posting... :)

My email to him:

My dear, I really expect you to have a full grasp of context surrounding whatever it is that I write. I mentioned getting my new bus pass because it implied a good 20 minute walk in the lovely downtown Seattle. It would have been wonderfully refreshing, but unfortunately, went unfulfilled today. Maybe tomorrow. You should make sure you consult the ENTIRE rulebook before your declare victory. An early declared victory that is later overturned incurs a penalty. While one can pull stars retroactively, there are no double-plays allowed. Indeed you have been incredibly sweet to me, but those stars, at whatever level they fell, were cashed in for date #1 and are therefore null and void--although the lingering memory may yet conjure a smile. For date #2, the stakes are higher...but the prize is only worth what you're willing to pay... ;)

His response to me:

My incredibly shrewd [me!],

You hit the nail on the head, I’m afraid. The hell of it is that there is no such thing as being able to consult the entire Rulebook for a guy. As ordained by God so long ago, women are the sacred keepers of the eternal Rulebook, while men only have a passing understanding of what is inside. Every so once in a while, some enterprising young chap manages to steal a glimpse into its secret wisdom, only to have women up and change the whole thing mid-read. It is a vicious circle to which there is no promising end, at least for us poor guys. I refer you to what I have called, in a mind-blowing display of sheer ego, “Michael’s Theorems & Postulates on ‘The Rulebook’ “.

To wit:

1) Any given Rule inside the Rulebook, is one that is known to Women, and unknown to Men.
2) Any given Rule inside the Rulebook, is created in whatever form Women wish to create it. There is no beginning, and there is no end.
3) Any given Rule inside the Rulebook which becomes known to Men, that is not by the whim of Women, thereby ceases to exist inside the Rulebook. It is therefore not just “no longer a Rule”, but in fact, never was a Rule to begin with.
4) Any given Rule inside the Rulebook which becomes known to Men, by nature of having been revealed by Women, was always there, even if it was just made up a moment ago. It is therefore a Rule, and always has been a Rule, even when it was, at one point, strongly believed to have not been a Rule.
5) In a given adjudication over the Rulebook, Women are always right. Men are always wrong. The reason for this is because that’s the Rule about Rules.
6) A given Rule may be brought into and out of existence at will. Sometimes, Rules apply. Other times, they don’t. This, too, is a Rule about Rules.

Now that you have enlightened me on a few of the Rules, I respond accordingly:

1) “An early declared victory that is later overturned incurs a penalty.”
Technically, this is true. However, though I have declared victory early, it has not yet been overturned. It is a suspended victory. Since the victory is a date with you, and an overturned victory is to not have a date with you, I imagine the penalty for overturning the victory is the actual act of the victory being overturned.
2) “While one can pull stars retroactively, there are no double-plays allowed.”
Well … damn. I didn’t know that. Hunh. So, here I am, stuck with 3.667 Stars (assuming that the ones I earned the other night are valid).

You say that the prize is worth only what I’m willing to pay, which is inherently problematic, since, in my own humble opinion, I happen to believe that this particular price tag is pretty damn high, and rightly so, considering who is attached to it. And here I am with only 3.667 Stars and $4.82 that I stole … uh, I mean … “borrowed” from the offerings plate last Sunday. Hmmm.

Well, then I suppose I’ll have to do what I do best: Lure you with promises of intrigue, adventure, and probably something to eat. I’m fairly good at that. So, on our last date, I told you that we’d be using two forms of transportation to get to where we wanted to be, and I delivered on that. Agree to go out with me again, and I promise you a third form of transportation. I’m thinking Saturday the 22nd. Your thoughts?

Monday, March 31, 2008

First Date--The Basics, Gentlemen

First impressions are crucial. Job interviews, client calls, and first dates all require shiny shoes, ironed shirts, and basic etiquette. No, the feminist movement did not kill all expectations of courtesy and chivalry. I do regret and apologize that my gender royally screwed things up for a few generations (ladies, time to salvage your bras from the ashes and remember your manners, as well!), but the majority of single women today do appreciate and indeed look for a few basic things still considered polite and appropriate.



1. Open the car door. Just unlocking it doesn't count. Negative points the remote unlocking as though that makes up for it. Unlock the door. Open the door. Help us in if you have a huge vehicle. Bonus points for closing the door behind us. It makes us feel like we're nice and tucked into our carriage. (Note: Most gals I know, myself included, don't expect or wait for you to open the door for her to get out. If you chose to take the gallant extra step--certainly advised for formal occasions--give us a "hold on!" warning first.)



2. Open the restaurant door and allow her to go first. Always. Always. Always allow her to go first. When you come to a narrow spot, she goes first. When you're sliding into a row of chairs, step back gentlemen. It's ok to walk next to her or suggest, "How about here?" but don't just barge ahead. Try to remember that she is your focus this evening, hm?



3. Pull out the chair for her when she sits down--and make sure she sees you so she doesn't go a-smashing to the ground. Kiss that second date goodbye! If the waiter does it, more points to you for selecting a classy restaurant.



4. Pay for dinner. Really, don't even let her pull out her wallet. "Please," or "I've got it," or "No, no, allow me," all work fine. Don't even get into the "Do you want to pay," conversation--really, who actually wants to pay for their own dinner? If you come across a feminazi who insists and insists and is on the verge of crazy, fine. Let her pay for her own stinking meal. (Side note: while this may seem like an intriguing arrangement to cheaply spend time with a hot chick who's got convictions, do you really want to be stuck with that attitude 'till death do you part? think about it...). I always offer to pay because I feel it's polite to offer. I will always hold it against them if they accept, because I think it's rude to accept. Double standard? *grin* It costs a lot of money to keep us looking this good all for you. Think of it our investments for your visual pleasure and your dinners are our dividends.



5. ASK QUESTIONS! Don't just sit there and stare; don't expect her to carry the conversation; don't talk about yourself the entire time. Be interested in her. Ask open-ended questions. Ask follow-up questions. Here are some good starters:


  • Interesting, tell me more about that

  • Wow, how did that happen?

  • Really, what did you think when you heard that?

  • You must be brilliant, have you done something like that before?

Ask a about her family, her childhood, her favorites, her interests, her passions, her future. Get to know her! Don't do an interrogation session--certainly contribute your own stories as appropriate--but always turn it back to her. She'll find it charming, intriguing, and flattering.


6. Don't take yourself too seriously. Lighten up, especially if she's gorgeous and you're nervous. Nervous isn't attractive. Laugh, get her laughing, laugh together, and you'll relax, she'll think you're brilliant, and I'm pretty sure there's a chemical reaction in the brain that can only bode well for your future together.


7. If you have a "perfect first date" sequence that's worked magically in the past, don't let her know that you've got it down to a science. She doesn't want to be thinking about all the other girls you've tried to impress in the same setting. We all know that most guys need to rely on rote formulas (not you, of course!) to get things right and like to stick with the tried and true. But we'd still like to think that we're special enough that you planned this outing with just us in mind. Let us have our little fantasy, hm? :)


8. Tip generously and be kind to the service people. Trust me, we notice these things and they make a huge impression. Please and thank you are always appropriate when dealing with another human being in any vocation. Treat everyone with kindness and respect; it speaks to your character and integrity.


9. Pay attention to your clothing. I'm delighted that everyone feels free to be themselves, but be your best-looking self on a first date. Clean, neat clothes, hopefully in a style that doesn't scream 1987 or even 1997. You don't have to be drenched in the latest clothing fad, but don't look outdated, either. This is a great time to take a trusted friend shopping for a great outfit that fits well and makes you feel confident.


10. Don't try to kiss her on your first date. She may have just been going out with you to be polite, to give you a chance, or because she didn't know how to say no. If she can still stand you for a second date, your chances are much higher that she won't press charges for sexual harassment.

*Bonus points: Walk on the street side of the sidewalk. Walk behind her going up stairs. Walk ahead of her going down stairs.

**Goes without saying: Check directions, restaurant/event hours, don't be late, call if you're in the hospital.

Men, it's really not that hard. Good luck to you!

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Non-Date Dates

So salsa gentleman #2, referenced in a previous blog, did not cease efforts, either. (Salsa is a dangerous venue, ladies--take care whom you invite!!) We'll call him Tom. Tom was not overt in his efforts. After the salsa outing, he kept up casual contact for a few weeks. He was quite kind and sympathetic during a major life crisis. He sent flowers. A month or so later, he asked me to dinner and a play. I like dinner. I like the theatre. I like free. A match made in heaven, no? :)

Tom is in his late 30s, on the short side of average height, and intelligent--with a decent dash of wit. He's rather average-looking, nothing to grimace at, but also not likely to instigate a double-take any time soon. I certainly didn't expect a love match (then again, I never do!), but thought it might be an evening of lively conversation, fascinating insight, and philosophical explorations.

It was...for him. He talked the whole time. Really. Not quite incessantly, but it was ...voluminous. Quite. It wasn't uninteresting, but he made no effort to elicit my opinions, thoughts, and insights (of which I have *many*). Disappointing.

Then the play. Ha! It was actually ironically funny. The play relived my current crisis almost exactly--one that I certainly wasn't eager to relive. I could tell he was mortified that he didn't do his homework better (as well he should have been), but I didn't hold it against him. I also dropped what I thought was a subtle hint that I really wasn't romantically interested.

The chap is bright! Where most people seem to have some pathological need to be rejected multiple times before accepting the reality thrust in their faces, this gentle soul picked up on the slightest clue and almost completely backed off. Because I'm used to at least 2 or 3 good faith efforts, I naturally concluded that he must not have been romantically interested, just looking for a good chum with whom to enjoy the evening. Well no problem! I play that role with aplomb!

Fast-forward nearly a year. Tom and I have had intermittent communication, occasionally crossed paths at events, and generally remained friendly. I find myself in yet another dating bet (more on that topic in another posting). I ask for his assistance. He kindly obliges. While sharing a cup of coffee, he confesses that he was interested in me and had thought the feeling was mutual -- what went wrong, he wonders. How did he mess it up?

I look at him quite kindly. Poor dear. I try to explain that I wasn't romantically interested and am quite sorry if he was under that impression. He did nothing wrong, it just wasn't there to begin with ... but if he really wants some feedback...buddy, you talk to much! Really. And he took it well! We also had a fascinating conversation revealing that he knew next to nothing about the female psyche. He expected girls just to fall in love with him! Ha! say I. Fat chance unless you are quite unique in the holy match-making trinity: gorgeous, rich, and charming. You must woo and pursue, say I. You must trick them into liking you! Most girls have a natural reaction of "NO!" but they can be persuaded. A bit of effort, my friend, just a little, will reap wonderful results (except on me, I was sure to clarify!).

This experiment in honesty opened our relationship up to a whole new level! After I announced my lack of past, current, or potential interest, he starts asking me out to dinner. Nice dinners--the wine flows, the dessert comes. My favorite kind of dinners--where he pays. :)

When the second invite comes, I decided I can't in good faith accept without clarifying. "Tom," I write, "For the record, are you trying to date me? Because I'm the one who told you that you have to trick girls, so it's not fair to use a page out of my play-book on *me*. Dinner here, theatre there, mmmm-hmmm. It won't work, by the way, because I am devoid of emotional attachment of all sorts. Otherwise, I'd be delighted to accompany you on your field trip. Are you providing the chaperone?"

Clever gent responds, "What, in the steamy sense? Most certainly not. In the sense of trying to line up a date on a calendar with a time on a clock with a geographical location with excellent company, I most certainly am. In any other senses you might have in mind, you're on your own." Sounds safe, yes?

I agree. It was lovely. I informed him he needed a complete hair a wardrobe make-over. He did a much better job of asking question. I enjoy the evening. (But I'm still not interested, in case you're wondering.)

I've decided he is to be my pet project. He has many wonderful attributes, just needs a little refining. He's never had a long-term girlfriend to help him out. Most men don't come refined. It takes effort.

On our third fine dining excursion, I demonstrate the technique of asking questions to elicit deeply thoughtful responses--essentially, how you *really* get to know someone. He admitted that it was quite flattering to have someone so interested in your life -- and for the record, I'm still interested in him as a person, even if it doesn't translate into potential spousal material.

I just received another dinner invitation. Does it need additional clarification? I've thoroughly stated my position, but men always have a motivation. *sigh* perhaps. Oh but the wine is lovely!

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Never, Never, Never, Never Give Up

Don't you love that sentiment? When everything seems hopeless, when despair sets in, when really there's no end in sight, never, Never, NEVER give up, right? Love Winston! How often are these inspirational, stirring, beautiful words repeated in desperate situations?

However, there is a time to give up. When she gets married, when she moves out of the country, when she gets a restraining order--men, these are all good times to surrender your dreams and resign yourself to another face in the family photo.

A few weeks ago, I sat down with a man we'll call Ronald for my annual rejection speech. I met Ronald 2 years ago at a speciality interest group to which we both belonged; let's call it the Conservation Club. Ronald took an interest to me immediately, but only interacted within the safety of a friend group. Strength in numbers? I never had fewer than 3 of these lads surrounding me at one time. All of them were wonderful, intellectual, kind, and socially awkward.

I casually mentioned my interested in dancing to a few of these blokes one night and jokingly invited them to show up sometime. Ah, how I underestimated the powerful incentive of potential romance...in their minds. Two of these unlikely suspects quickly accepted and promised they'd be at Century Ballroom on Saturday (I demanded no promise; I was sorta hoping they'd forget actually). Did I mention that I dance salsa? Did I explain that these masochistic volunteers are white, reserved, and 30-something-years-old? Hmm, indeed!

Spinning ahead, they both show up and the three of us spend the evening together. We'll get to boy #2 later. Ronald hits on a favorite topic of mine and suggests we get together later to discuss it further. Had it not been for such a compelling area of personal interest, I never would have agreed. Ah, but he's a sly one, he is, and it was appetizers the week after.

Ronald is not attractive. Ronald has very few shared interests. Ronald has no college degree, pursues an impossible dream, and may still be living with his parents. After slowly watching each bite of the appetizers disappear, bit, by bit, by bit...by itty-bitty *bitty* bit, enduring a rather slow conversation, and really wishing I could think of a plausible reason to leave early, the check comes. Praise the Lord God Almighty!

We exit. He clears his throat nervously. Darn it all, here it comes. "So, I'm trying to think of a way to hang out with you again soon," he says. "Oh, thank you, but I really don't think it would be a good idea. You're a great person, but I'm just not interested in a relationship," say I. Straightforward, right? Plain English? Any room for doubt? Ok then.

I get home to find an email from him, again expressing interest. I *again* clearly lay out that no, dude, ain't gonna happen. See previous post, Exhibit B for exact wording. Two days later, which happens to be February 14th, he shows up. At my work. With a book. Of love letters. Granted, they were historical love letters, but come on!!! Most fortunately for all involved, I was home sick that day. I responded to his gift with a one sentence thank you email. Wouldn't you get the hint?

Ah, but this chap is a student of Winston. Must be. No other explanation. Over the ensuing year, he sends me an email anywhere from once a month to once a week, primarily containing his musings. He asks nothing. I usually respond nothing. Every5-6 letters, I shoot of a few sentence in response to not be entirely rude. I see him once or twice. He knows persistence.

I believe I may have showed up at another club meeting sometime in November. December rolls around and I start seeing him at salsa. Every week. Again, being well-bred and well-mannered, I graciously greet him and offer a dance (only because he's new and I so appreciate all the compassion and pity dances I got as a beginner). Again, he asks nothing, but this kid is a smart one. He figured out that the only way he was going to hang out with me was to show up where I was at. I'm at salsa every week. He came to salsa every week. See where this is going?

By about the 3rd week, I send the email posted yesterday as Exhibit B #2...just clarifying in no uncertain terms that I AM STILL UNINTERESTED, even though he hadn't asked. I've never been that presumptuous, straightforward, or bold before. Sorry, not interested. That's that.

He doesn't really respond to that particular note, but doesn't slow the communication--email and dancing. Ay-yi. In February, he asked if we could maybe hang out in a setting where Ronald didn't feel as awkward and clumsy as salsa (and yes, he did refer to himself in the 3rd person). I decided that maybe I need to give a final, in person, face-to-face, once and for all, unequivocal no. I reply, "Yeah, we probably should chat."

This time, I schedule it for the week after Valentine's day to try and push off any potential action/reaction/creativity on his part. He did better this year by only sending me a very sappy e-card with a personalized poem. *sigh* But it was an improvement. We meet up (after his salsa class, at which he is now a regular attender) for dinner at a local pub.

I start the conversation asking about his job and such. He answers...I ask a follow up question....he answers.....I let the silence go for a half a second before asking another follow up question....he answers....then looks at me expectantly for the next question. Geez! I gab on until the food comes. Then I launch into the "Ya know, just not going to work," bit. He replies, "I know you're not interested right now and I know I can't provide for you the way you'd want right now and I know there are some thing I need to work on right now, so I understand what you're saying." Don't think so, buddy. I try to explain that it's not a question of right now, but that we are unsuited for one another until death do us part.

It was painful, but I believe by the end of the evening we had a meeting of the minds and ended amicably, albeit with me paying for my own darn dinner and drink. Sigh of relief. Clarification. FREEDOM!

Email the next day. And the next. I bolted town for a bit on a work trip. He researched the city for me. I got back to another email. And the day after. Weblink the day after that. Text message the next. Two emails after that. The more I reject him, the more impossible I paint the options, the more he tries!

Ronald, be kind to yourself! Somewhere out there is a lady who will adore all your attention, appreciate it, and maybe, just maybe, reciprocate it. Find her. You're a good guy. You deserve her.

And for the rest of you men out there, know when it's time to give up and move on. Persistence is a lovely thing. Sometimes you get the girl. If this is your game plan, you have much better luck on girls with low self-esteem, just FYI. But at some point, you need to face reality. She's out of your league. Maybe it's your hygiene? Perhaps you bore her to tears. Whatever the reason, true l-o-v-e between you was just not meant to be. And it will never happen.

Trust me, you wouldn't be happy with her anyway.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Rejection letter: Mail Merge and Thanks for your Application

I used to be very loquacious in my rejections. I hate to hurt feelings. I like to encourage people.

Exhibit A from 2005: Awkward conversation at lunch. I say no thanks. He doesn't get it. Follows up with an email, just making sure. My response:

"Thanks for taking the time to reiterate your thoughts from Tuesday's conversation. I appreciate your willingness to be forthright, waylaying the awkward uncertainty of assumptions. I generally try to avoid these types of conversations--as you may have picked up from my numerous attempts to change the topic... :0) But as I saw it coming a ways back, and now that you've been kind enough to brooch it directly, charge we onward.

"I'm very flattered that you would take an interest in getting to know me at a deeper level. Such compliments coming from a respected friend are worth much. You have taken quite a risk to put forth your intentions--something I don't see done often--and therefore I will try to give you a direct response. At this point in my life, I am simply not interested in a relationship with any inkling of romantic interest or commitment. As I expressed over lunch, I'm content, really delighted, being single, though not isolated--dependent only on God. I love being around groups of other people, exploring friendships, discovering divine gifting imparted to others, and simply enjoying the community of believers. Even when that perspective changes, though, I'm not sure that I would be the person for you. I value your friendship and really see that as the fulfillment of our relationship. Welcome to the summer of fun! :0)"

Obviously too long. He did get the hint, but I think it took a few weeks longer.

Exhibit B: 2006 Agreed to appetizers. Chatted for the evening. He nervously asks to get together again. I say no thanks. Get home to an email asking the same thing (How many times to they have to get rejected???) I write:

"As far as getting together again, please indulge me in bringing up the always-awkward topic of clarification. I enjoy intelligent banter and philosophical discussions thoroughly, but buffered by friendship, and nothing more. I am always eager to meet new people and determine who they are and why, and my emotional unavailability is often discovered late. I hate to be presumptuous in this thread of conversation, and please forgive me if I am, it's just that I have too often been accused of cruelty, when it's really forgetfulness--that not everyone is necessarily on the same page with social engagements--and perhaps naivety. So, there's that, and chalk one up for awkward candidness. ;)"

This paragraph was followed two days later by a Valentine's gift. I need to re-evaluate effective communication techniques.

Rejection attempt #2. Same guy. 2007.

"Yes, I will be at Century on Saturday. I hate to be presumptuous, but I just want to clear up something. If your feelings towards me are the same as they were a year ago, you should know that mine haven't changed either. You are a great guy, but I'm not interested in anything beyond that. You certainly are welcome to come dancing on Saturday, but I just don't want your expectations to be misled. Again, please excuse the presumption, but life is generally easier when communication is straightforward, regardless of how awkward the subject may be... :)"

Still showed up and showers me with emails.

Exhibit C. Century Ballroom. 2 weeks ago. Alex asks for my phone number. "No thanks." But he just moved to the area and needs friends. "Try church." He goes to church but they're old. "Come to YP." But can he have my number. *grumble, grumble* Fine. Here's my phone number "But I'm not going to date you!"

Conclusion. No beating around the bush. Be straightforward. It still won't work, but they can't say you didn't warn them.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Seattle Dating Scene

Seattle is well known for many things: gorgeous scenery, outdoor activities, environmental conservation, hi-tech industries, diverse neighborhoods, and active inhabitants. There's also something called "The Seattle Freeze." Perhaps you've heard of it.

Rumor has it that making friends in Seattle is near impossible for the newly arrived. Seattleites are friendly, helpful, and kind, but don't expect any invitations into their social circle. I don't know that I entirely agree with this theory, but I will admit it has some merits--and carries over to the dating scene. Now, as a reasonable-looking female, I don't experience the dating freeze directly, but it expresses itself in extremely roundabout invitations.

Men here don't ask for dates directly. I more often hear things like, "We should hang out," or "Hey, why don't you meet up with me and my friends," and "Cool, I'm going there too, maybe we can catch up!" This leaves the awkward question of whether or not "this" is actually a date. Now, we are all rational people here. Men aren't looking for their next female best friend. They're talking to you because you're pretty and they're interested. Bottom line. Why not just come out and say, "Hey, can I take you on a date?" No confusion, no uncertainty, he asks, he opens doors, he pays. Lovely. Rare.

My friend and I came up with a theory about our oblique communication style in the Pacific Northwest. Some attribute it to passive-aggressive behavior. Others to the geek culture permeating our fair city. We call it pnwasion (pen-WAY-szon). It's short for Pacific Northwest Persuasion and it stems from our dominant Nordic and Asian cultural influences. We are not confrontational. We like to suggest, not demand. We are not aggressive; we like to leave an out clause. In short, we give you the big picture and if you can figure out what we really want, we will get along famously!

Case in point: My friend (we'll call her Jenny) and I had been invited to the family home of an Assyrian friend. He had told us for weeks about his mother's incredible food, the aromatic dishes, the unending feast. We salivated at the prospect--we are both huge fans of eating excellent food! Our destination was a three-hour drive from Seattle. We split a pastry for breakfast and arrived around 1:00, appropriately famished in anticipation. We were greeted with Turkish coffee. Then some wine. Then some more wine. 2:00. 3:00. More wine? Oh, no, really, I can't have another drop, I haven't eaten all day! 4:00. You sure no more wine? Really can't, no food in the stomach, you know, really. Really. 5:00. We're going to a winery! (Thinking that maybe they had bread there along with the wine tasting, we go along...no bread, just more wine!) Finally, around 7:30, they fry up some hamburgers for dinner. After serving the dad first, he comments, "You should give some to the girls, they're starving!" So they knew were were starving!!! And yet, we couldn't bring ourselves to simply ask, "Hey, buddy, can we have some food?" No, no, it was, "Oh please, no, I can't have another *drop* of wine, I HAVEN'T EATEN ALL DAY!!" They were supposed to decipher their expected offer of food from our pnwasive statement. Any Northwesterner would have known. Ah, but they are Assyrian. And so we starved.

While I am indeed guilty of pnwasive speech patterns and behavior, I would like to suggest that we all attempt a communication shift. The "lets hang out" method, while sounding casual and noncommittal, is actually the worst trap. She can't say, "No, I'm not interested," because you never said you were interested, did you? You just asked to hang out. If she says, "No, I'd rather not," then you're left wondering what about your personality is so horrendous that she would even want to spend an hour or two with you. I mean, it's not like you *said* you were interested in her. See where this leads?

So men, try the direct route: Would you like to go on a date with me? Practice in front of a mirror. Try your inflections on a few trusted friends. And ladies, please let's not be offended at the directness. It's polite. It gives you an out. It's great! In fact, how about a trial year--just one year--where you say "yes" to any man who asks you out directly (automatic out clause for safety and sanity reasons). We can all do our part to ramp up the dating scene in Seattle. Men ask directly, women accept promptly, got it? (This, of course, only applies to the first date. After that, boys, it's all up to you.)

Let the games begin!

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

I enjoy dating. I appreciate getting to know people, understanding who they are and why. I like free meals. I am a serial dater.

I generally don't have a problem getting dates. I usually say yes. I never commit.

I live in Seattle. I am 27 years old. I have a professional career, am financially stable, and stay well informed. I am socially aware, culturally involved, and politically opinionated. I enjoy life.

For some reason, I have had more than my share of fascinating dating experiences. With the exception of the truly creepy, the street bums, and aged delusionals, I say yes to one date with almost anyone who asks. I'm never interested, but feel everyone deserves a shot at changing my mind. Their success would surprise no one more than me!

So here are my adventures: some past, most present, and perhaps some side commentary to keep me amused. Welcome to my life.