Dating Doesn’t Have to Be a Chore

Late summer afternoons, when I was a young teenager full of innocence, suburban angst, and sappy love poems, I would bike past a certain house to catch a glimpse of the girl who, by dint of having never been corrupted by actual bedsharing, would remain a lifelong figure of purity to me.  Being my first lust object, she set the gold standard against which future girls would unknowingly compare.

Such a vision she was, that even from a non-stalker distance her miniature form made my heart thump like a wet drum.  She stood up from her chaise lounge chair in the front lawn to apply suntan lotion, long sweeping motions up and down her arms, wearing corduroy shorts and a white bikini top.  I stopped my bike to watch her, transfixed.  She sat, laid on her stomach, and didn’t protest her straight dark brown hair when it dropped in silky ribbons across her face as she read a book.  To this day, the memory lingers as powerfully as the smell of my grandparents’ house, or the first time I got a bloody lip in a fight.  Eventually she moved, and the memory is all I have of her.

It’s easy to get the dating doldrums from years of being in the field.  Age tempts the spirit with weariness.  Learning the ropes and becoming proficient at game makes you realize that women respond like automatons to certain stimuli just like men do.  The princess pedestal that men start out putting women on quickly crumbles with real world experience.

Life is ugly like that.  The trick is to live as if the underbelly of life had no authority over your mood.  You understand that it is there, and even use it to your advantage, but you never let the poet in you be subsumed by the machine.  Happiness is equal parts realistic appraisal and self-delusion.  There is indulgent joy in putting women on pedestals — it splashes color into your life that could easily turn monochrome from cynicism.

So many men and women have become irretrievably jaded with the dating scene.  They’ve seen it all, heard it all.  Dating for them has become a chore whose only purpose is to efficiently ascertain the suitability of a person as potential relationship material.  Just the way I wrote that previous sentence pretty much sums up how modern dating feels.  The whole enterprise takes on the flavor of checking off a grocery list.  The sheer giddiness of sharing the company of a date and careening recklessly in the emotional whitewater gets lost along the way.

I know that game works.  I know that women aren’t unfathomable creatures.  I know that the beastly side of life always has its maw open ready to swallow you whole at the slightest misstep.  I know that once women pass that magical age of 26 a part of their femininity morphs into an accountant consumed with bottom line analysis and dreary practical concerns.  None of this stops me from approaching the pursuit of sex and love with anything less than fiery ardor.  When I see an attractive girl in a candle shop or across a club I remember how I felt when I watched that ribbon of hair tumble across the face of the girl sunning herself in her front lawn.  And all is good.

None of the dirty, crusty filth of life has any hold over me.  That memory stays with me for a reason.  It guides my way.  Recall your own sweet memories when you see a girl you want to meet and the feelings anchored with that will show in everything you do.  If your passions are strong enough you can drag an accountant away from her cash flow spreadsheets.





Comments


  1. I have my own memory. I was about 11, standing outside my house when a cute brunette boy rode by on his bicycle. He and I locked eyes and held eachother’s gaze for what seemed like an eternity until my stepbrother snapped me back into reality by making fun of the whole thing. That boy (though a stranger)was also my ideal for awhile and I’ll never forget my first glimpse into young lust.

    Like


  2. Hold on to 16 as long as you can.

    Like


  3. 🙂

    good

    or you stay optimistic by knowing that there are at least 2 human beings on this planet who currently think that you are the greatest (wo)man ever, so there must be many more! 😉

    Like


  4. her miniature form made my heart thump like a wet drum

    Great line. I remember the idealized object of my teenage love. I had similar feelings back then as you describe here. At the time I tried to write a poem about this girl in order to get some kind of a grasp on my chaotic emotions, which at that age are overwhelming.

    Of course, from what I remember about that poem, it was one horrid and sugary cliche after another; even then I recognized that it bore no resemblance to her or to my actual feelings.

    I wonder if a 16-year-old could produce a simile like the one above. It would have been awesome if I had written something like that!

    Like


  5. “I know that once women pass that magical age of 26 a part of their femininity morphs into an accountant consumed with bottom line analysis and dreary practical concerns.”

    We create our own realities. My reality is that I that I have the financial independence to fly to Europe on 24 hours notice. And I have the type of confidence (sexual, professional, personal) that comes with age and experience. I don’t lack for dating options.

    I am the picture of the miserable accountant you speak of? And what are these dreary practical concerns?

    Like


  6. Dante’s Beatrice was a similar creation.

    Like


  7. The problem for me comes with knowing that there is nothing new under the sun. Everything you’ve ever wanted from a woman you’ve gotten in one way or another. From love to the levitating spider monkey level 2. That’s the angle I’m coming with on Thursday’s post. I guess it doesn’t help I have a thing for strippers with sob stories. They get me every time.

    It’s weird because you’re always lusting and hungry but at the same time, you never really get full.

    Like


  8. “It’s weird because you’re always lusting and hungry but at the same time, you never really get full.”

    Welcome to the club. I had the same sort of epiphany around 30, when I had 5-6 plates spinning and was sleeping with most of them. All were attractive, but none of them were relationship material. It wasn’t until one morning after leaving one girl’s apartment that it hit me — I was bored and wanted more.

    Like


  9. Yeah, the cost of running game is that eventually you come to despise your ‘victims’, you know, the ‘women who respond [like] automatons to stimuli just as men do’.

    Despite your claim that ‘None of the dirty, crusty filth of life has any hold over me’, it seems to me that weariness and cynicism are indeed creeping up on you. Life’s ugliness has seeped into your attitude to women today, even if SHE, THE ONE, remains preserved in all her purity in the amber of your memory.

    I think you need to be rescued by the love of a good woman, Roissy. Otherwise, you’ll end up sad and jaded by the time early middle age descends on you like a dank, dreary cloud.

    If you aren’t that way already.

    Like


  10. I think you need to be rescued by the love of a good woman

    Very true for everyone.

    Chris Rock had a thing about that. How the hot girl at the club will not sit by your bed when you’re sick. The hot girl at the club will not … etc. And you don’t want to be that old guy at the club.

    Having the love of a good woman that you’re married to makes you see that life had just began, and everything you’ve done up to that point was practice.

    Like


  11. We create our own realities. My reality is that I that I have the financial independence to fly to Europe on 24 hours notice. And I have the type of confidence (sexual, professional, personal) that comes with age and experience. I don’t lack for dating options.

    I am the picture of the miserable accountant you speak of? And what are these dreary practical concerns?

    My experience with such women is that they are keenly aware of their financial independence and make the men in their lives aware of it. Men are either booty calls (which is what it is, I’m not knocking it), or must have equal or higher earning power (get out your spreadsheet), or rarely, be Kevin Federline.

    True relationship material requires a spreadsheet.

    Like


  12. […] Dating Doesn’t Have to Be a Chore Late summer afternoons, when I was a young teenager full of innocence, suburban angst, and sappy love poems, I would […] […]

    Like


  13. The problem for me comes with knowing that there is nothing new under the sun

    Now I see the recent obsession with furries, VK. Another ticket punched!

    Like


  14. I think Rina wants your micro-penis in her Jew-hole.

    Like


  15. In my entire life, I’ve met one exception to the automaton rule. Even then, I have my suspicions.

    I wonder if you could write an FA or TM to help you get laid?

    Like


  16. aww so nice.

    Except I turn 27 in a week. oh crap.

    Like


  17. I’m glad you’ll acknowledge that there’s a little poet in you.

    Like


  18. on August 22, 2007 at 7:02 am Days of Broken Arrows

    Roissy,

    Have you ever looked up what your teenage crush is up to now? Did you ever consider revisiting this situation? Googling her?

    The reason I ask is that I had a similar situation. It haunted me to the point where I wrote about it in a column I had in a DC paper (which shall go unnamed). A few months later, by freaky coincidence, her name turned up in an e-mail someone sent. She works in DC, it turns out.

    I’m laying low, thinking that meeting my teen crush (who is sort of an artistic muse (might have a devistating effect. Any thoughts on this?

    Days

    Like


  19. nikita:
    I’m glad you’ll acknowledge that there’s a little poet in you.

    candy is dandy
    but liquor is quicker!

    dba:
    a few years ago someone mentioned her name in convo. I asked her not to tell me anything about her. I don’t want to know that she’s married, fat, and hauling kids to soccer practice. some fantasies are best left unexposed to reality.

    I wrote about it in a column I had in a DC paper (which shall go unnamed).

    oh man, don’t be a tease.

    i think meeting a teen crush later in life is so rare that you should go for it. you’ll probably learn a lot about yourself from seeing her. it would be fascinating to know if she still had the same pull, or if your tastes have changed. i’d risk losing her as a muse.

    Like


  20. on August 22, 2007 at 8:46 pm Days of Broken Arrows

    Thanks for the reply — and the advice. I’ve been so extreme on this board, though I’m not gonna out myself!

    If you’re a fan of the Beach Boys’ “Pet Sounds” CD, the final song on that album is a loose account of what happened when composer Brian Wilson decided one day at 23 to drive back to his old neighborhood and see what happened with his old crush.

    It’s not pleasant.

    Like