This week's column was incredibly easy to write. I received a deluge of mail, which translates to very little work for me! In fact I had so much free time, I went out and bought a fetching new pair of shoes and went to see Jesus' Son (far too long, but highly recommended for Billy Crudup's unholy foxiness). This week I'm going to let two of my readers duke it out:

I think your column would be better titled "Sex in Seattle (or the lack thereof)." You've admitted previously that your track record isn't exactly the national standard. In your last column, you back that statement up with your ex's track record. I find it hard to believe that what you write actually portrays the Seattle Weekly readership.

I believe that at least 60 percent of the population isn't composed of jerks, sluts, or other undesirables. That 60 percent doesn't hang out in bars. They are sitting in traffic trying to get to/from work, paying their bills, and buying frozen dinners. They are doing their own thing, because spending all their time looking for "the right person" gets depressing quickly.

So this column shouldn't be about when/where the next sexual encounter is going to occur, but how the reader can improve the odds of finding their next stimulating human connection. This isn't about sex, it's about interaction with others. It's about sharing the joys of life and not getting bombarded by the pressures of society.

—Mopey Matt [not his actual name]

Listen, Bub, only the almighty Dategirl decides what this column should be about, and if I want it to be about sex, that's what it's going to be about, capisce? Besides, can you name one human connection more stimulating than sex? And how dare you categorize sluts as undesirable!? If you want to read about sharing the joys of life and avoiding societal pressures, I suggest you look elsewhere—perhaps a church group or 12-step organization. But if deep down, you're really just looking to get a piece, read on. The following letter is from a very sensible reader:

I feel compelled to rebut your breakdown about who gets laid and who doesn't. The way I think it works is that gay and straight women want to fuck partners who don't have undesirable qualities, while gay and straight men want to fuck partners that do have desirable qualities, i.e., "I would never sleep with him. He is clearly an ax murderer." Or, by contrast, "Yeah, maybe she did torture, kill, and eat her last six boyfriends, but look at the rack on her!" Of course this is simplistic—but I think there's some truth to it.

As a straight man, I've never had a problem getting action. And believe me, it's not because I'm such a great catch. (Remember when you mentioned women's aversion to back hair? Enough said.) I get laid because I don't end up on most women's "no fucking way" list. I'm a nice guy. I'm pretty smart. I like women a whole lot. I'm moderately domestic, but like going out. I'm pretty well read. I'm not unfaithful. Boring! Right? I think so, but despite the fact that I'd never date me, there seems to be no shortage of women who would.

My advice to women looking to get laid: Be intriguing. Wear outrageous clothes. Have strange hobbies. Learn random phrases in Swahili. Crash parties. Flash your breasts. Express inflammatory opinions about politics, religion, and whether dogs or cats make better pets. Eventually, the guy of your dreams will be struck by some quality you possess that he can't live without and will fall all over himself trying to get you into bed.

My advice to men looking to get laid: Don't be such an antisocial freak. Lose some damn weight. Listen. Be polite. Smile. Laugh. Learn to dance. Find some male friends and go out in public with them. Read a freakin' book now and again. Even if it's a Harry Potter book, the girl across the room from you might think it's sweet and take you into her loving arms (and legs).

—Robert Knight [his actual name]

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the kind of guy that we refer to as a "keeper." He is self-assured without being cocky, self-deprecating without being a mope. He's an excellent speller, has a realistic idea of himself, can turn a phrase, and appears to be employed. I have included his real name as a public service to the women of Seattle.

Send your PSAs to or Dategirl, c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western, Ste. 300, Seattle WA 98104.

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