Different Strokes

I thought it might be interesting if you did dating-skills or personal evaluations. You could tell men about things that need improving after meeting or speaking to them. Since you are very perceptive, know human nature well and are a good observer of the singles scene, I'm sure you would do well. Just a thought.

—Louis

And what a funny thought that is! I don't know that "perceptive" is a word I'd use to describe myself, though I will cop to being a bit of a know-it-all. Even so, I would never presume to tell anyone what they needed to improve on, because what one person deems deficient could be the entire reason someone else finds them irresistible. For example, my deep lust for Richard Belzer is something that 99.8 percent of my girlfriends find absolutely revolting and inexplicable. The other .2 percent are slobbering right beside me. Now what if some "consultant" had advised the Belz to get his acne scars blasted or to gain some weight and quit being so goddamned cranky? He'd be left with all the appeal of Jay Leno. Which is to say none. At least in my book. At the same time, I'm certain that somewhere, deep in the Midwest, some dame in curlers and a housedress has her hands all up in her business whilst fantasizing about that bucket-jawed dweeb. And who am I to criticize her perv?

I can see how it might be tempting to hire an "expert" to compile a bulleted list of all your faults, but really, aren't there enough people who'll make you feel crappy about yourself for free? I'm specifically thinking about an inebriated gentleman I encountered on the subway many years back, while on my way home after a haircut gone horribly wrong. This jackass spent the time from 42nd to 103rd streets pointing at me and loudly telling his buddy how I looked like an ugly boy and wondering aloud what it felt like to be such a hideous excuse for a human being. My fellow commuters kept turning to see the human atrocity this guy was referring to. Some of them looked like they felt sorry for me, but nobody said a word. I was so mortified I couldn't even speak.

As soon as the doors opened I jumped to get out, but he slid into my path and screamed, "You're ugly!" by way of saying goodbye. Looking back, it seems clear I should've slit his throat and ripped out his heart with my bare hands (if, on the off chance he had one), but instead I burst into tears and stumbled home sobbing to my then-boyfriend, who assured me he quite liked my new 'do. So you see, one drunken motherfucker's object of revulsion is another man's sweetie-pie.

Manhattan women deserve what they get for being a particularly good-looking, independent and mean-spirited breed. I can't remember my last positive interaction with a strange woman in a public setting here. I've almost given up on the possibility after too many rude responses to genuinely friendly, innocuous attempts at conversation.

I am not out just to get laid. I am not desperate. I never use pick-up lines. I am good-looking and dress well (checked with female friends before writing this). I have a good career. I am fairly articulate and will never tell you how great I am. And I shower every day.

I tried the internet thing and got a bunch of mixed nuts—maybe I'm too thin-skinned for the dating scene here. It's almost gotten me to pick up and move. Any suggestions are welcome.

—Ed

How many times do I have to tell you people—dating is not for the thin-skinned or faint of ego! You think you've cornered the market on rejection? Ha! You think women are nasty? Try dating men! It's a cruel city, and if you'd rather be going out with some bland, dumpy broad who considers holiday-themed sweatshirts the height of fashion, get thee to Ohio. Or Kansas.

Your problem is that you're trying to chat up strangers. You conclude that women are inherently vicious creatures, but do you have any idea what it's like to walk around rockin' a pair of tits? (Hint: see above.) Have you ever had a stranger grab your ass? Or sneak up behind you and hiss something along the lines of "I wanna suck on your pusssssseeee" in your ear? I'm guessing not. Any woman who blithely strolls these streets without a defensive shield surrounding her is a fool. Or visiting from elsewhere.

And I hate to break it to you, but it's not like we ladies come equipped with some kind of psycho detector. The fact that you're well-dressed and don't smell like ass doesn't mean dick. Some of the biggest skeeves I've come across have appeared perfectly presentable, only to let their freak flag fly once I've let my guard (and underpants) down. Which is why I think you should give online dating another try. At least you know the women on there are interested in meeting someone, which is more than you can know about the fox sitting next to you on the Q train. Sure, you may come across a certain lunatic element, but hell, that's what keeps life exciting. o