Spring in My Step

I was wondering, would you rather have a man who read your column and took an interest in you? Or would you rather have a man who didn't read your column and did not take an interest in what you like to do?


Reader TAC is referring to a column I wrote a couple weeks back (March 17) describing a freak-out I had because a guy I was dating kept quoting me to me. And sure, when you look at it TAC's way—all rational-like—it seems obvious that of course I would prefer a man who was interested in me. I've dated men who actively disliked my work (wonder why?), and that really bothered me.

In retrospect, it would appear that that particular piece was actually a self-serving pity party for one: "Poor me, it's so hard to get paid to write about all the stupid crap that happens to me! Boo hoo hoo! Some guy liked me enough to Google me! Wah! Ooooh, that's so tragic and scary! Nobody knows my pain!"

I'm such an asshole.

I thought you might be able to help me out. I am 48 years old, but I've taken care of myself and look 35 (so I'm told). Here is my problem. I'm recently divorced from 20-year marriage and really want to get back into the swing of things, but can't seem to find any action. Every girl I meet turns me off because I feel like they are looking for some guy to take care of them. I just want to have friends for booty call and no commitment. When I go to bars, that feels weird, like the only reason I'm there is to find someone to kick it with and I feel like a perv. I have been out of circulation for a while and have limited resources to go out and party on. It seems like to get what I want it would be easier to just buy a lady for the night and move on. My friends say I should use the Internet to look, but my ex-wife has the computer, and I really like the idea of meeting girls face-to-face instead. The computer seems kinda desperate to me. What do you say? Any suggestions?


You've been watching too much MTV, grandpa. You're worried about finding "someone to kick it with?" You're almost 50—you're never going to get laid busting out lingo like that. What's next, Snoop-tawk? Please. You're also mixing eras; "party" as a verb is very '80s, while "action" is circa 1974. I'd suggest you get your patter down before you further embarrass yourself.

And let me tell you what—even if someone was kind enough to tell you that you look 35, you're 48. Behave accordingly.

Your friends are correct. The Internet is the easiest way to find NSA bootie. Perhaps it's desperate, but really—what's desperate? As you're asking advice of a complete stranger, I think you've already arrived at that destination.

Personally, I think your purchasing impulse is the soundest. Rent a hooker, have sex with someone who isn't your wife, and calm the fuck down. You don't really want a woman, you want a sperm receptacle. (Not that I feel hookers aren't people, but they're compensated for their time spent with knuckleheads.) If you're getting your kicks with a rent lady, you won't be pestering me or any of my girlies while we're trawling for tail online or sipping refreshing beverages down at our local. Oh, and here's a news flash—most women don't want some guy to take care of them, we just want someone who won't bug the hell out of us.

I was thinking that a great idea for a sixth date would be a doubleheader: Bad Ronald with The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane (how can you beat not only a bad Scott Jacoby vehicle, but one also with Jodie Foster, and President Josiah Bartlett as the pedophilic baddie?). Then, on date No. 7, you could make your own secret sealed-off room in either your house or his, together. How shiveringly romantic is that?

Who knows . . . a James at 15 marathon might be next.


Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the future Mr. Dategirl! I think I'm in loooooove!

Falling? Write Dategirl at

dategirl@seattleweekly.comor c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western Ave., Ste. 300, Seattle, WA 98104.

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