Online Dating-- In Public

On the way to work each day I stop at the same Starbucks near my office. And every day, for the past few at least, I've seen this guy at the bar, "working" at his computer. Seems normal, right? Until you notice what he's doing. No, he's not watching porn or looking at erotic images. Conversely, he's not doing anything seemingly normal, like applying for jobs or reading The Economist. So what's he doing? He's online dating. In a Starbucks. During peak rush-hour coffee addict traffic.

I need to make it clear that this man is not sitting in the back of the store in some corner, hidden by a bazillion other customers. He's not even at a table. He's literally sitting at the bar that parallels the line of people, waiting ever so eagerly for their hot cup of caffeine. Not only that, but he's seated on a higher platform than the customers standing on the ground. That's how I was able to see this guy in the first place. And that's how I've been able to entertain myself while I've had to so painfully wait in line for two whole minutes every day.

Maybe that doesn't sound interesting, but let me assure you that it is. Not only do I know what this guy is doing (trying to pick up pornstar-esq chicks posing suggestively in their profile pictures) but I also know HOW he's doing it. He uses a site called datehookup.com. First he finds his targets. Then he emails them, explaining that he comes "from a wealthy family." Not what I'd want to read in an initial email from a random stranger, but it turns on some girls, so all the power to him.

Much to his credit, though, he's careful and he's organized and even methodical in creating these potential dating connections. I mean, I consider myself to be disgustingly organized in some regards, but I was never this good with online dating. This man creates a folder on his desktop for each and every woman he's in contact with. He saves their emails and drags their photos into their respective files. Impressive, honestly, especially after having forgotten countless names, occupations and life aspirations of many of the men I spoke to online over the years. Sorry, but if I've never met you, I'm not going to remember your name or job. But I might remember your dog's name or where your sisters live. I'm weird like that.

I agree that it's creepy, though, that I know all this about this random dude who frequents the same Starbucks as me. But, at the same time, I think he's asking for it. When he's sitting with his screen facing the crowd, you know, with sexy (or trying-to-be-sexy) women blown up on his screen, he's asking for onlookers. And when DATEHOOKUP.COM flashes ever so brightly, who WOULDN'T look out of sheer curiosity? I don't know this man, have no personal attachment to him, haven't even spoken to him, so in theory I shouldn't care what he's doing. But it's interesting-- I mean, who really would choose to do this in public? And, who isn't curious about how other people pursue online dating?

Usually online dating is an activity that we take on inside the privacy of our own homes. On occasion you'll find a coworker scoping out their options while inside their cube (also a no-go) or maybe you'll be invited to look online with a friend to help her weight her options. (Because I'm so cool, a friend and I used to spend time online on Friday nights looking at all the guys who were contacting us, and then we'd share our opinions with each other.) But in a coffee shop? Really?

Be careful where you are when you online date. I'm serious. Or else you might end up with someone like me blogging about you. (But, in all seriousness, Mr. Mystery Man, thanks for entertaining me each morning. Stay at it and maybe you'll find your match.)

“Apologies” for the Past-- with a Conniving Twist

On my way to work two days ago, I was obviously reading the iPhone version of the New York Times that I had so brilliantly pre-loaded before my subway went underground. In the section that hosts the “Most Popular” articles, I touched the article on the top of the list. Turns out it was about Anita Hill, the woman who, in 1991, accused Supreme Court Justice-to-be Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment. She testified under oath that he had subjected her to comments of sexual and pornographic nature. Thomas still managed to receive the nomination to the United States’ highest court, but his ordeal with Hill has perhaps forever tainted the opinions many Americans hold toward him.

So in case you’ve been living under a rock for the past couple of days (I don’t think any of my readers are starfish or worms, but who knows...) let me inform you that Hill was back in the news because of another interesting situation. Apparently she arrived to work at Brandeis University one morning last week, only to find a voicemail waiting from Thomas’s wife, Virginia. Virginia had decided that one morning at 7:30am just 19 years after her husband’s battle against Hill would be a good time to call Hill to “make amends.” Hill, upset and concerned for obvious reasons, called campus police who later informed the FBI. But, like any girl would, she made the situation explode even further: she also called The New York Times to let them listen to the message.

“Good morning Anita Hill, it’s Ginni Thomas,” she said in the message. “I just wanted to reach across the airwaves and the years and ask you to consider something. I would love you to consider an apology sometime and some full explanation of why you did what you did with my husband.”

She went on to tell Thomas to “have a good day.”

If I were reading that out of context, I’d have assumed that Thomas were asking Hill to apologize for something that happened yesterday or maybe the day before, but not nineteen years ago. I also would have thought (rather, hoped) that someone married to someone as much in the spotlight as a Supreme Court Justice might have a little more tact and understanding in terms of which battles to pick and when.

As I went to bed that night watching the news, I realized that this situation wasn’t going to blow overly so quickly and that Virginia’s message is still reaching “across the airwaves.” Yet another newscaster was providing their commentary on the story. Now, let’s be honest. Virgina must have been able to predict that her message would have become public, and she certainly couldn’t have thought that Hill would have kept the instance private. She had to have known that this would become a rather large and well-known scandal in itself.

At least in my eyes, this is the classic scenario of not only girl-to-girl bullying, but also a pathetic cry for attention on the part of Virginia. (Likewise, we could probably argue that to some extent Hill was vying for attention by publicising the occurrence.) I would have hoped that women of their age could have matured enough to avoid not only such a public spectacle, but a public spectacle nineteen years after beginning.

But, here’s what it boils down to: sometimes apologies (or some semblance of an apology to some degree) come when you least expect it. Maybe both women were instigating their own drama, but the situation shows that people revisit the past when the timing seems unusual or random. No one knows what triggered this event, perhaps marital problems between the Thomas’s, but what matters is that the Hill-Thomas situation was revisited and, even though it involves two prominent women, they still managed to slide in a conniving and girly twist. Apparently I was wrong in thinking that women grow up. Figures.

Nice Men: They Exist, You Just Have Look

I have a handful of guy friends that fall into the category of "the nice guy." No, I don't mean that those select few are the my male friends who are nice or maintain some semblance of an idea how to treat a girl well. I'm talking about the nice guys, the ones who rarely actually get girls because they're not actively out on the prowl hunting for women.

The guys I'm talking about are the ones who treat women extraordinarily well-- but ever so rarely have the chance to demonstrate it. Men who, if god forbid I were arranged to marry tomorrow, I could at least be confident with in knowing that they'd always treat me with the utmost respect.

Why is it, then, that we women never actually make a move on these men? Why do they come home, night after night, asking me why they've been rejected by that girl they met last week in class? Why do girls go for the assholes always, they ask? I treat her so well, yet she continues to run back to that shmuck who cheated on her last month with his bank teller-- how could she be that oblivious and self-depricating?

The answer is that I don't know. I have no idea why we do it. I can't explain it.

I know that when I'm in a relationship with a "good guy" I recognize it. Sure, it takes me time to get used to someone refusing to let me walk home alone. And it's almost uncomfortable when a boy picks up something little for me when he's out on errands "just because" and for no reason in particular.

Then consider those men who don't immediately try to work their way into your pants the first second they have with you behind closed doors. They must be crazy, right? That, or you're just that unattractive that they must not want your body.

We deserve to be treated well. Although the patterns in our behavior might not exemplify this, I think we all know on some level that we should be aiming to get with the good guy and to leave the asshole trailing in the dust.

So although I still can't offer answers, I did at least start getting myself on track to figuring out this huge mystery of life: why DO women always go for the jerks? I think Audrey Irvine in her column Relationship Rants is on to something when she discusses this very topic. (See http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/personal/03/25/rr.disappearing.nice.guys/index.html.)

Maybe it's that the nice men aren't the ones who are out there blatantly demanding female attention in bars. And they're not the ones who will come up to you and ask for your number when they think you're cute-- they're more likely to be secretly planning a way to (respectfully) ask you for coffee in broad daylight.

My point is, look around. See who's hiding in the shadows-- or behind his New York Times in Starbucks. Don't jump to run off with the man who offers to buy you a drink simply because you were worth a couple bucks and a few minutes of his time. If you really want to be treated well, look for the men who don't overtly demonstrate their craving to get you in bed.

It's worth taking time to scout for the nice ones. After all, you can still end up with the fabulous romance but while also being treated well both in private and in public. Can you imagine? A man who acknowledges your presence in public? Now that's worth looking for.

XOXO,
R.