Implosion
The Crush (1)
The Crush (2)
The Crush (3)
Good Advice
Unequal Footing
When Worlds Collide
Crushing Irony
Karma, Baby
The Woolies
clare Carver
Dot Com Dance
Encourage Saint X
Disparage Saint X
D A T E L I N E U P D A T E : Karma, Baby
Saturday, July 21
My guiding principle this summer is simple: I will go out, at least once, with ANY (childless) woman who asks me for a date. My no-refusal policy is in play no matter how mismatched we may at first seem on paper, or how awkward or bland a preliminary conversation might be, or even, believe it or not, if a sense of humor is in question. (In the last case, it'll just be more fodder for you greedy bastards.)
(1) You never know. (2) Do unto others. I'd hope for a similar sentiment on the other end of things. (3) It doesn't need to be a huge commitment. Besides, who has more free time presently than I do - I submit as proof these pages you're reading. (4) It gets me out of my apartment. (5) You really never know. . . Read on.
Let's consider the example of "Chickie-Pie". I would probably have X-ed her off my list right from the start. (Did, in fact.) But a few weeks ago she sends a short note that isn't entirely repellant. She even talks about an interest in kayaking - an activity I've grown quite fond of. I hesitate, swallow, then devise a response that could not be considered unenthusiastic. Am I just being self-serving? I don't know. This is a strange process. For all I know I'm just one of a dozen guys she contacts every week pursuing a strategy resembling my own shots-on-goal approach. After a few starts and stops, and a fairly awkward phone call, we agree to meet in our mutual neighborhood Saturday for coffee. Simple. L-o-w-w-w-w pressure.
She begins with an apologizing for being tired, saying she was out late dancing last night. As it happens, she went to the very club I had almost gone to. Good start. Slightly weird coincidence. Not the first. We sit and talk, more naturally than on the phone. I've had a chance to review my notes this time - yes, I keep elaborate files on EVERYONE. (Beware!). My original suspicion that this is no one I'm interested in having a relationship with is confirmed, but by no means is the encounter the torture I had envisioned.
Somewhere in the middle of things comes a kicker. (Background: when I was first living in Boston, borded out of my mind at my first job, I came up with a stupid newsletter I mailed out monthly to friends. It was an elaborate affair - waste time? Me? - probably most notable for having been a useful reminder about one of my impending birthdays - never got so many cards as that year - April 7 by the way - yeah, thanks.) Why am I mentioning this, aside from the fact that it never hurts to push the birthday? Turns out the title of that little rag is the same as the name of Chickie-Pie's company.
My lawyers advise I not state it exactly. (But a good synonym would be "busybody".) The associations are a little odd to attribute to a business if you ask me, buy hey, I'm sitting here in a coffee house wondering where my next job is coming from. She was surprised to learn I was already familiar with the company's existence - I stumbled across it last year (lured by the name) during an Internet search of design / Web consulting firms in town.
Here's the real kicker (Give up? Come on, this one is easy):
Chickie-Pie has suddenly rocketed to 9.85 on the Interesting Scale.
I make what could potentially be taken as a little joke about sending her an e-mail with the URL of my Web site for her to forward along. After I casually mention a friend who has just been sent to work on a project in Zurich, and the not-so-frivolous offer I made to assume his identity, it's time to move along.
When she asks my opinion on the best way to commute by bike from her apartment in the Mission to her office South of Market, I impart a shocking wealth of knowledge. I'm an encyclopedia about biking around the city. I'm prepared to draw a map with the best bike-friendly streets on a napkin with my own blood if that's what it takes.
- You don't think she's kidding about this London thing, do you?
- No, man. She said she's got a great relationship with them.
- Shut up! She's digging this whole bike thing. Keep it going.
The bike conversation continues for a remarkably long time before she remembers she has to go home and wait for the cable guy. (No, seriously. She just moved into a new apartment. The appointment is what determined the time for our meeting in the first place.) She apologizes for having to leave, but hands me her business card with her contact information at work - because, she says, she'll be turning in her cell phone, which is the only way I had to reach her up to that point.
So here's my dilemma: does it cross the line of stringing her along if I'm more interested in what she can do for me than what I want to do for or with her? If not for this London angle I can't say I'd be planning further contact.
My cynical side wonders when dating was NOT about trying to get what you want from another person. Maybe it's just a different prize in this case. Any different from all the scheming and preparation I generally do for these encounters - the lists of interesting questions, preparing clever answers for questions that might be asked? (Yes, I freely admit I do this too. I am Super-Dork!!! For reference, the absolute best answer - field tested - to "What have you been reading lately?" is, by far, "The Bible". It never fails to illicit a good conversation, which never lasts less than 10 minutes. Yes, yes, The Bible as dating come-on . . . one more nail.)
My idealistic side wonders if I'm pure evil. (Don't touch it!)
I know this whole London prospect is a long shot - probably comparable to the odds of my dating spree leading to more than casual diversion - but it's still more than I had to go on last Friday.
I've decided to wait a while, giving HER the chance to raise an inquiry about my Web site. So the only real question remaining is, I suppose: is three days too short a time for me to send the link to her unsolicited? (Feel free to vote: CARPE DIEM! YOU'RE SCUM!)
-- Saint X
This is a complete aside, but it happened a few days ago and I thought it was a riot: I mentioned to my friend, Sara Wooly, that I was on a "dating spree" (my standard description - see above). Her response: "Is that 'spree' as in 'killing'?" If that's not brilliant insight, I don't know what is! I hadn't considered it before, but there must have been some subliminible connotation at work in my twisted little brain.
* * * * *
Next: X Man
My guiding principle this summer is simple: I will go out, at least once, with ANY (childless) woman who asks me for a date. My no-refusal policy is in play no matter how mismatched we may at first seem on paper, or how awkward or bland a preliminary conversation might be, or even, believe it or not, if a sense of humor is in question. (In the last case, it'll just be more fodder for you greedy bastards.)
(1) You never know. (2) Do unto others. I'd hope for a similar sentiment on the other end of things. (3) It doesn't need to be a huge commitment. Besides, who has more free time presently than I do - I submit as proof these pages you're reading. (4) It gets me out of my apartment. (5) You really never know. . . Read on.
Let's consider the example of "Chickie-Pie". I would probably have X-ed her off my list right from the start. (Did, in fact.) But a few weeks ago she sends a short note that isn't entirely repellant. She even talks about an interest in kayaking - an activity I've grown quite fond of. I hesitate, swallow, then devise a response that could not be considered unenthusiastic. Am I just being self-serving? I don't know. This is a strange process. For all I know I'm just one of a dozen guys she contacts every week pursuing a strategy resembling my own shots-on-goal approach. After a few starts and stops, and a fairly awkward phone call, we agree to meet in our mutual neighborhood Saturday for coffee. Simple. L-o-w-w-w-w pressure.
She begins with an apologizing for being tired, saying she was out late dancing last night. As it happens, she went to the very club I had almost gone to. Good start. Slightly weird coincidence. Not the first. We sit and talk, more naturally than on the phone. I've had a chance to review my notes this time - yes, I keep elaborate files on EVERYONE. (Beware!). My original suspicion that this is no one I'm interested in having a relationship with is confirmed, but by no means is the encounter the torture I had envisioned.
Somewhere in the middle of things comes a kicker. (Background: when I was first living in Boston, borded out of my mind at my first job, I came up with a stupid newsletter I mailed out monthly to friends. It was an elaborate affair - waste time? Me? - probably most notable for having been a useful reminder about one of my impending birthdays - never got so many cards as that year - April 7 by the way - yeah, thanks.) Why am I mentioning this, aside from the fact that it never hurts to push the birthday? Turns out the title of that little rag is the same as the name of Chickie-Pie's company.
My lawyers advise I not state it exactly. (But a good synonym would be "busybody".) The associations are a little odd to attribute to a business if you ask me, buy hey, I'm sitting here in a coffee house wondering where my next job is coming from. She was surprised to learn I was already familiar with the company's existence - I stumbled across it last year (lured by the name) during an Internet search of design / Web consulting firms in town.
Here's the real kicker (Give up? Come on, this one is easy):
"We're headquartered in London."
- Did she say London?
- What?
- Shut up!
- Wipe that stupid grin off your face.
- Shut up and listen!
"Yeah, I should set up a conference call between you and the guys over there. That's kind of what I do in my job. They're going like gangbusters. Always looking for new talent."
- Holy crap.
- Is she serious?
- Does she have any idea how long you've been trying to do that?
- Will you guys shut up!?!
- Did she say London?
- What?
- Shut up!
- Wipe that stupid grin off your face.
- Shut up and listen!
"Yeah, I should set up a conference call between you and the guys over there. That's kind of what I do in my job. They're going like gangbusters. Always looking for new talent."
- Holy crap.
- Is she serious?
- Does she have any idea how long you've been trying to do that?
- Will you guys shut up!?!
Chickie-Pie has suddenly rocketed to 9.85 on the Interesting Scale.
I make what could potentially be taken as a little joke about sending her an e-mail with the URL of my Web site for her to forward along. After I casually mention a friend who has just been sent to work on a project in Zurich, and the not-so-frivolous offer I made to assume his identity, it's time to move along.
When she asks my opinion on the best way to commute by bike from her apartment in the Mission to her office South of Market, I impart a shocking wealth of knowledge. I'm an encyclopedia about biking around the city. I'm prepared to draw a map with the best bike-friendly streets on a napkin with my own blood if that's what it takes.
- You don't think she's kidding about this London thing, do you?
- No, man. She said she's got a great relationship with them.
- Shut up! She's digging this whole bike thing. Keep it going.
The bike conversation continues for a remarkably long time before she remembers she has to go home and wait for the cable guy. (No, seriously. She just moved into a new apartment. The appointment is what determined the time for our meeting in the first place.) She apologizes for having to leave, but hands me her business card with her contact information at work - because, she says, she'll be turning in her cell phone, which is the only way I had to reach her up to that point.
So here's my dilemma: does it cross the line of stringing her along if I'm more interested in what she can do for me than what I want to do for or with her? If not for this London angle I can't say I'd be planning further contact.
My cynical side wonders when dating was NOT about trying to get what you want from another person. Maybe it's just a different prize in this case. Any different from all the scheming and preparation I generally do for these encounters - the lists of interesting questions, preparing clever answers for questions that might be asked? (Yes, I freely admit I do this too. I am Super-Dork!!! For reference, the absolute best answer - field tested - to "What have you been reading lately?" is, by far, "The Bible". It never fails to illicit a good conversation, which never lasts less than 10 minutes. Yes, yes, The Bible as dating come-on . . . one more nail.)
My idealistic side wonders if I'm pure evil. (Don't touch it!)
I know this whole London prospect is a long shot - probably comparable to the odds of my dating spree leading to more than casual diversion - but it's still more than I had to go on last Friday.
I've decided to wait a while, giving HER the chance to raise an inquiry about my Web site. So the only real question remaining is, I suppose: is three days too short a time for me to send the link to her unsolicited? (Feel free to vote: CARPE DIEM! YOU'RE SCUM!)
-- Saint X
This is a complete aside, but it happened a few days ago and I thought it was a riot: I mentioned to my friend, Sara Wooly, that I was on a "dating spree" (my standard description - see above). Her response: "Is that 'spree' as in 'killing'?" If that's not brilliant insight, I don't know what is! I hadn't considered it before, but there must have been some subliminible connotation at work in my twisted little brain.
Next: X Man