san francisco dating

A word about women

~ Addie ~ 2 Comments

singles dance

Last night I went to a big singles’ dance. I am currently on a quest to meet the Love of My Life, but right now I don’t want to talk about the men I met there.

I want to talk about the women.

I’ve been to my fair share of singles’ dances by now, and I want to share with you the women I met last night who show the best and worst of attitudes when it comes to meeting men.

First rule: it’s supposed to be FUN dammit

Two girls, about 24, came in full ironic princess dresses. I met them as they were sprawled on the floor near the entrance, exchanging shoes. As I talked to them about the fact that they were the same shoe size, they laughed about really taking the event title “singles’ ball” seriously so they were there to find Prince Charming. Again, they were joking, but having such a good time I had to love these two. I pointed out a few distinguished gentlemen in tuxedos across the dance floor. In a giggling mess of chiffon, they were off to meet them.

Second rule: practice 

I was there with dating coach Annie Gleason, helping at her table to drum up some new business. It was like old times. About halfway through the evening she introduced me to Alison, a current client of hers. Seems Alison was having a bit of anxiety getting herself out toward the dance floor, and Annie asked me if I wouldn’t mind showing her what I do.

Absolutely. I come from a long line of teachers and I love to pass along whatever I know, so this is fun for me.

I brought her to the edge of the dance floor.

It was a hot, dark, sweaty sea of people moving to the thump to Prince’s “Little Red Corvette.” Men were practicing the side-to-side two-step, making sure to bite their lower lips. Some appeared to have no idea what to do with their arms as they flailed them about in adorable improvisation. Some women out there were dressed to kill, eight-inch heels and all, swirling and twirling with such stern determination that I worried that Alison might be impaled out there.

“So here’s the thing,” I said. “If you want to get asked to dance, you need to NOT be talking to me. A lot of men find it hard to break into women talking together.”

We I did a quick high-five and move a few feet away from each other. She started smiling at men passing by, bouncing to the beat. Within seconds, she’s whisked away to the floor as the DJ moved into some disco grooves.

And another rule: for god’s sake try to look friendly

That’s when I took a tour of the room. It was now at capacity. The beer and wine had been flowing for about two hours, and people were loosened up.

Well, not all of them.

One table was a black hole of sequins and perfect hair. Seven ( I counted: seven) women were seated at the table, shoulders hunched, talking urgently amongst themselves. These were some beautiful people. I made mental notes on hairstyle and stunning gown choices, and I drew closer. Two of them glanced up at two guys approaching their table, made tiny frown faces, and then back at their friends.

I actually don’t know what happened to these folks. By then Annie had put in a full night and she needed to pack up and head out. But I could almost hear these same women complain all the way home about the evening being a bust.

Back to rule number one

Annie taught me something a long time ago; men are terrified of women who don’t look friendly. And we women, in public situations, often fear for our safety and are just as terrified of strange men. It’s actually a survival skill.

But this was a singles’ dance. You paid money to be there. It’s just one night. If a guy asked you to dance, you are not required to marry him.

Are you also terrified? There are simple steps you can follow when you get out on that dance floor. Thank you for a lovely evening, Annie!

 

No pressure … part 2

~ Addie ~ Leave a comment

awkward

… So there I am. It’s Speed Dating night for me. I am early, and I have been spotted by a man named Toby. I went out with a few times last year,  but I felt no spark so I ended it.

Now we are in polite conversation where we ask how the other is doing, and he has made the correct assumption that I am at a singles’ event looking for someone to date.

Annie Gleason, dating coach, comes to the rescue. Not literally  (I don’t need THAT much hand-holding ((although I did go to a singles’ dance with Annie once where she watched me mingling and gave me tips from the sidelines; but that’s another story))).

What do I say?

As I make a mad search of my mental notes from Annie on how to get out of this one, I also keep in mind that at some point this evening he is going to sit at my table and have five minutes of my time, just like every other guy there that evening.

“Yes, I got out of a relationship a while back and feel ready to start dating,” I say.

“Oh,” he says. “I’m sorry to hear it didn’t work out.” He seems sincere.

It feels like he wants to say more. I’m sipping my vodka tonic and looking around. My feet are facing ever-so-slightly away from him. I am giving him classic body language. He persists.

“How’s your job going?”

This is where another woman enters our awkward two-some.

“Hello!” Her name is Sita. She barges into our twosome all smiles, energetic, and seems to know Toby.

I love Sita.

Sita not only saves my ass at this moment, but she is bright, pretty as all get-out, and proceeds to dominate the conversation. I learn that she and Toby met at a previous speed-date event, and did not choose each other. She works in television in San Jose, she loves her life, loves to travel, fancies herself a singer with self-published CDs, enjoys dancing …

DING!

It’s time for the girls to take their places at their individual tables, and for the guys to start roaming from one to the next.

And so begins the short, sometimes awkward conversations with 11 men of all stripes and shapes. We are in the middle of a very warm-weather spell, so I find  my opener: “Such a beautiful weekend we’re having; what did you do with your Saturday?”

I am crafty. I use this question to find out a) if the guy’s short term memory works, b) what they choose to do on a random Saturday c) if any of what they describe sounds like something I might want to join them on in the near future.

So far so good. One guy describes golfing. Another worked on his car. Yet another gives me a very long, long laundry list of shopping, dry cleaners, gas station, dog walk, shower, checking his email, and turn by turn saga of his uneventful drive to the event this evening …

My favorite guy so far tonight is so nervous when I ask the question that his mind goes blank. I can see the panic set in. It’s so cute that I can’t help but make up a Saturday for him – sending him on a hot-air balloon ride, a swing around a NASCAR track, and a chance encounter with Jack Nicholson. He likes my ramble and joins along in the gag, adding that he also finished inventing a way to save global climate change with just a bobby pin. As he leaves, I circle YES on the little Speed-Dating scorecard.

Heere’s … Toby!

The time has come. Toby ambles over to my table, smiling in a shy way. He sits down.

“We gotta stop meeting like this ..,” he says.

Oh dear. I glance over at Sita’s table. She’s filling a gentleman in on Everything Sita.

I laugh at his (genuinely cute) remark and look him in the eye.

“Toby you are so sweet. It’s nice that we met up again tonight, and I’m truly enjoying talking with you. But I felt last year that we weren’t a match, and that hasn’t changed.”

“But we’re having such a good time..,” says he.

“Agreed.”

“So why don’t we grab a cup of coffee sometime, see where it goes?”

Ugh. He is so nice. But there were no sparks for me last year, and my general discomfort with his persistence is setting in.

Annie, help!

Okay, now I remember: Be persistent back.

“Toby, I appreciate your interest in us getting together, but we’re not a match. It’s been nice seeing you. I really hope you’ve met a few women tonight that you’re interested in. I’ve met a few men. I really wish you the best of luck.”

Toby takes it like a gentleman. I turn our conversation to Sita, and we now have plenty to say for the next four minutes.

Dating 101 for the rest of you all, but …

I cannot begin to tell you how important moments like this are for me.

Long ago, in this same exact situation I probably would’ve acquiesced and gone on the date with Toby. And hated myself for it. Which in turn would’ve made me not as relaxed or friendly — or worse — resort to ordering that third glass of wine and, well, you know.

But now I am a changed Dating Woman. With Annie’s help, I have not only overcome my shyness at early dating, but have gained tools for sticking to my guns without having to rely on lying, ghosting, or giving in because only because the guy likes me.

So, life is good. On this day, anyway.

—————————————————–

Next up: A chef on an airplane and a geek in the airport security line.

Men in elevators, part 2

~ Addie ~ Leave a comment

elevator3

So I’ve left the San Francisco Public Library Main Branch archives collection and am headed to the elevator. It’s nearly 8:00 p.m. and the announcement is going out in the building that they are about to close.

As you may recall, I am on the sixth floor. The elevator door opens and there is a guy standing there. He looks confused.

As you might also recall, I’d had some luck flirting with another guy a few hours ago on this same elevator system. Now it’s late, and this gentleman seems to need help. This situation calls for some kind of comment.

“Going down?” I say.

“Well, trying to?” says he.

He’s pushing the button for the first floor. The button is not interested in his request.

So I push it. Same result.

Now, anyone who has ever visited the SF Public Library Main Branch may be aware that there is a mystifying situation between floors one and two. If you enter from the Larkin St. entrance, you are on floor two. You can get to floor two by stairs or by special elevator. You can get on an elevator, but you can’t go up, only down.

So, if you’re like me and you want to go, let’s say up, you need to descend to the first floor and take a different elevator.

Why this is I don’t know. But a real live bunch of people designed this building only a few decades ago and a lot of money and civic-mindedness went into it. Perhaps there’s a reason.

I feel like it’s an inside joke for the SFPL librarians. They never get enough of watching us as we befuddle our way around floors one and two, hitting buttons to nowhere on the elevator, giving up and taking the stairs; having conversations with the security guard (also in on the joke, I suspect); getting directions; scratching our heads and, dejected: getting on a different elevator.

And so it is me and this guy, in the elevator at closing time, and we’re both trying to get to the first floor. Somewhere, a librarian is having a giggle.

I press a button for floor two. Eureka! The button lights up. Guy looks surprised and sheepish.

“I swear I tried that one too,” he says.

Corny, I know …

This is where I feel it necessary to say something nice. And flirty. I say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Oh, you probably loosened for me!”

The rest of our conversation involves me explaining my SFPL Floors One and Two conspiracy theory. But I’ve explained all that to you already.

We get to floor two, and take the stairs to floor one. And go our separate ways.

Up next: Talking to men at a hipster coffee house on a Sunday morning