HOW TO MEET GIRLS

Someone asked me recently how Savage Kitten and I got together. Seeing as we've been an item for nearly two decades, to a certain extent I can grasp why this is such a subject of curiosity. After all, we're an unlikely couple - people can thoroughly understand what I see in her, but it seems, and I don't know why, they are totally baffled by her seeing anything at all in me.

She is an intelligent, petite, Cantonese American female, with extremely slender hands, about a decade younger than myself. By any rational standard, she is extremely attractive.
I am a pudgy middle-aged man who drinks and smokes, and writes a blog. So, by any rational standard except evidently yours, also extremely attractive.

She is incredibly shy, and I am socially somewhat inept.

How come we are together?

One word: CANDY


No, I didn't hang around the girls' playground with a bag of all-day suckers. I am upset that you would even think that. You are a pervert. I was on my way to the movies, and stopped at the store for something sweet. While paying I accidentally broke one of the items on the counter. The conversation that ensued was riveting enough to keep me from ever getting to the movie theatre that night.

[Sample of that conversation: Me, in heavily accented Cantonese: "Nei sik m-sik gong kwantung hwa" ('do you speak Cantonese')? She, haughtily and insulted, in English: "I'm sorry, I don't speak Japanese, I'm Cantonese!!!!"]


Pizzazz. Spark. Snapp, crackle, and pop.


I've been very happy since then. Nearly two decades.


Having been lured in by the snappy title of this post, you probably wish to duplicate that experience. My guess is that you're a forty-five-year old kollelnik with too much time on your hands, or the kollelnik's eighteen year old son, desperately seeking to avoid the dreary stultifying life of the previous generation.
Either way, you want zest. That explains why you're reading the blog of a man who keeps talking about little Catholic Schoolgirls, Japanese High School Girls, girls in short short skirts, pantsu, shapely thighs and fine perfume, and The Lowell High School Female Student Body, which is luscious, very feminine, and primarily smallish Chinese-American brainiac.

Indeed, how can you duplicate that experience?

First, you should understand that likely young ladies do not appreciate shverre discussions about the things that interest men. Which is very disappointing - we all want to find someone who shares our interests.......
You will have to develop conversational abilities outside the realm of Talmud or pipe-tobacco, or the search for medicated foot-powder (especially useful if you visit the tropics, the deep south, or even New Jersey).

Secondly, girls also like frequent gifts. Not expensive gifts, just little somethings that show you were thinking of her. Think in terms of flowers, candy, a new Glock 19 nine millimeter.

And thirdly, learn to listen. Sweet young things will pretty much throw themselves at any man who can remain bright-eyed and bushy-tailed while listening to an hour-long dramatic retelling of her last jaunt buying a pair of shoes - one and half inch heels, absolutely adorable, arch support and good leather stitching, a particular shade of red, not burgundy but more like red blood drying on the pavement red, dark-brick red, purply wine crimson red, that sour-looking Philippina that was eyeing the pair speculatively down at Footwear Pavilions or the carnivorous white chick with the tiger tattoo on her lower back who nearly grabbed them, they're mine bitch mine mine mine I saw them first back off, mine! And see, don't they look pretty?

Ferevvins sake don't say anything about how utterly bored you are. Complement the shoes. Praise how they fit. Admire her well-shod feet. Smile.
It's not about shoes, or even the feet; it's about communicating - women do that differently than men.

If you must, dream about Talmud, or pipe tobacco, or medicated footpowder while she's talking. Anything. As long as you don't think out loud, no one gets hurt.

And they really are exceptionally nice feet. You want to hold them, and feel how delightfully they fit into the palms of your hands, and curve so temptingly between the heel and ball of the foot, pale peach skin with barely visible blue veining, velvety to touch, cute little toes..........



Those three things will get you most of the way there. And as long as you also brush your hair and teeth, and act like a gentleman, your chances are excellent.