CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE

This post is essential. But not really meaningful. I had to post something – the previous post was attracting too much attention, and I want it to fade from view.

A reader has been giving me dating advice, you see.

"Well, if you're looking for classier, intelligent dates, don't look in sleazy bars. Perhaps Shul (Purim is coming!) libraries, symphonies, lectures, laundromats and upscale groceries in nicer neighborhoods (the old "which detergent do I use?" line might still work) etc. But certainly anywhere is better than your office! Get out a little. "


So that's why people attend the symphony - it's a giant meat rack!
I've always wondered.

I doubt that I could fool a young lady who habitually attended musical events for very long. My profound snoring would clue her in, fairly immediately, that I wasn't a serious music aficionado.
As a come-on, the phrase "shut that racket up, I'm sleeping" isn't very high on the list.


In actual fact, I am not looking for classier, more intelligent dates - that would suggest A) that there have actually been dates (there haven't), and B) that I have actively been looking (I haven't).

The idea of hanging out in shuls, symphonies, and laundromats, or scouring grocery stores, with as primary and only object chatting up likely females who have impressed me as being neither insane not attached has very little appeal.


Instead, I have several ideas of my own.
I would be grateful if my readers reviewed them, and gave them points according to likelihood, poetic license, 'interesting-tell-me-more', or "boy am I looking forward to reading about you in the newspaper".
Scale of 1 to 5.
And thank you.

1. Break into the Catholic Girls Orphanage with a crate of moonshine.
2. Jog along the waterfront covered in oil screaming about walruses.
3. Visit local hospitals to comfort weeping relatives of the dead.
4. March through Union Square every day with a "repent, bitches" sign.
5. Play the accordion.


I feel that these have much more chance of success than the current approach, which is basically non-existent. And certainly as much of a chance as the suggestions of a reader who seems fondly, strangely, and utterly convinced that I am bowed under a crushing weight of senseless "I'll hump anything along as it isn't quite dead yet" sexual frustration.

To recap several points I've made earlier:

No beautiful brainless twits.
No tipsy college students.
No chain-smoking party girls from Daly City.
No fratboy-bait trollops.
No drunken chance-met floozies.

No tattoos, no piercings, no keffiyehs, no alcoholics, no Christians, no druggies, no poetic meaningful existentialists, no radicals, no artistic types, no crazies, no grannies, no hipsters, no earth-mother types, no vegans, no French-speakers, no valley girls, no spam brains, no golf-players.



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All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
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