Introduction

This began simply, with an e-mail to a few long-since-committed friends, reminding them what the dating world could be like. They got a kick out of it and begged for more. The vicarious thrill of nostalgia, I guess. Or maybe they were just glad to revel in someone else's asinine behavior for a change. (I confess I've mooched off their stories far too long; it was about time I gave a little back. Incidentally, we're all equally shocked - and sometimes horrified - at what an exhibitionist I've turned into.) Each message became a bit more elaborate, and my mailing list kept growing, so I finally decided just to stick them up here for easy review. My friends, by the way, fit into three categories: single (2%), married (27%), married and relocated 3000 miles Back East (71%).

I put myself on the bench a long time ago, thinking I was perfectly contented pursuing a variety of avocations, assuming something would come along. My brilliant plan led me into my 30s. I freelance, live in the same apartment I use for work, hardly ever go into a real office, and have no interaction with coworkers. If not for the occasional FedEx I can go days without seeing another person. It finally got to be too much when I realized my building is populated by a staggering number of old men who live alone. My worst fear come to life, playing out for me every day.

So, since the economy has tanked here in San Francisco, I dedicated my new-found free time to the world of dating. For the most part, this is a foray into computer match-ups - by default more than anything. Although there are the occasional real-world contacts interspersed. Take, for example, the brief daylight follow-up with a woman I met dancing. (I've got a thing for 80s music.) Turns out she edits an agricultural journal. Somehow, she began telling me something about animal circumcision. (I desperately wish I could remember what it was she said!) I mentioned that this was the second time in two days I had a conversation about circumsicion - which is true - then added that I could usually manage to go a whole week before the subject came up. Her lack of amusement was a bad sign.

I know I'll look back on all this with fondness. At least that's what I keep telling myself. My public humiliation is here for your entertainment. Enjoy!

-- Saint X


p.s. While situations are based on actual events, names have been changed to protect the innocent and/or litigious.