ROMANCE IN THE PRESENT IMPERFECT TENSE

Several of my friends are distressed at my singleness. My solitary bachelor life, and the occasional evidence of frustration and loneliness, makes them feel sad on my behalf.

I am not distressed.

Yeah, occasionally frustrated and lonely.
But not distressed.
Or sad.


I've seen what's out there.


The San Francisco singles world is a replay of Night of the Living Dead. Mixed with an unhealthy helping of SantaCon.
There's little worse than nasty elves.

Oh, and many women are artists, creative and vibrant, and experienced world travelers who DESERVE a financially stable enthusiastic non-smoking athlete. Who shares her passion. Whatever that is.

Either that, or shoes.


This blogger may not be prime relationship material. I smoke and drink, have a fondness for bakeries in Chinatown where something flaky may be found as well as a hot beverage, and own far too many books, many of which are NOT high-literature or high-minded.
I put hot-sauce on many things.

No, I don't go to clubs or all the latest fancy restaurants.

For the occasional alcoholic beverage I prefer quiet places where I can hear what the person that I am in conversation with is saying, and the music is neither painfully loud nor excessively unique and hip.
No music at all would be best.

My favourite restaurants are relatively cheap, but do good stuff. The ambience is more real world than high-fallutin' chic. No pretentious or nouveau in-spots, and if they've spent a fortune on ambiance and décor, they've already made me dread the experience.


My idea of dating is dull and boring. Let's do coffee, then browse at a bookstore, and have a quiet dinner in a while. I will walk you to your door, and we'll agree to meet again in another day or two. Please bring a book, and we'll find a café that looks like it would be fun to sit for a few hours just reading.

Care for some beef chow fun? How about some roast pork?
There's a place on Waverly with superior congee.
On Clay we can have chicken wings.

The Caffe Trieste is always noisy, and the Roma appears not to exist anymore (it's now the Colosseo). But the latte at both Puccini and the Greco is decent, and they are usually not jam-packed, except near evening.
We can go there after not buying a book at City Lights.

Let's have an early supper at the Washington Café afterwards, then we can stroll over the hill back to your place. Do you mind if I smoke my pipe while we walk?


See? That's almost impossibly unexciting, and damn well guaranteed to make any woman yawn. It just isn't appealing in any way.
Stodgy, unimaginative, and depressingly settled.

Plus I don't have a cell-phone and do not text or tweet.

I am a rather unsuitable man.

Which is ok.



So yes, still quite solitary and single, and also occasionally somewhat frustrated by that condition. Bachelorhood is not a grand experience.
But I am quite happy that I am not an enthusiastic non-smoking athlete.
Being an ideal man sounds like it might be a drag.

And vibrant, creative, and artistic world travellers, as all single women are, would very probably not be my cup of tea.



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