From “Men’s Health”:
Ever walk into a bar and fall in lust with seven women at once? Easy, big fella. Researchers at Northwestern University studied speed-dating sessions and found that people who desired most or all of their potential dates were the least likely to find a match. People can pick up on indiscriminate desire, and it turns them off, says study coauthor Paul Eastwick Ph.D. Conversely, when someone clearly desired one individual above all others, that individual was more likely to reciprocate. In normal dating scenarios, make the most of those opening minutes with a woman with a compliment tailored to her, Eastwick suggests. Refer to the real her (style or personality), not the superficial (jewelry or smile).
Wow. I had to read this short blurb about 3 or 4 times just to make it was describing me perfectly or just ALMOST perfectly. This is exactly what I do. I almost blushed a little when I read that last part about referring to her style or personality and not her smile. Jeez, I do that all the time. I guess women can sense that. I’m going to have to work on that.
The problem, as I see it can best be summed up by Spaulding Gray in his monologue “Swimming To Cambodia”. I don’t have the exact text but basically he talks about meeting the casting director of “The Killing Fields” (a movie he was in). He admitted that it would be hard for him to be a casting director because it would be hard to pick the best candidate for the part. “Why couldn’t SHE play the part… or her?” Given a list of ten actors for a given part, he would have a hard time choosing the best one.
I feel the same way. Given 10 attractive women I don’t know that I could choose just one based on a 5-minutes conversation or – worse yet – a well-crafted e-mail. What words do I pick up on that tell me “she’s the one”. What insignificant detail could I overlook and pass over a potentially winning candidate.
These are truly things I agonize over. I don’t want to get it wrong. I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others and not make a bad choice. People say I’m picky but, apparently, I’m not picky enough.
I went to a bar last night, invited by A-girl. Superman tagged along and (I think) we had a pretty good time. Anyhow, there are all these attractive women floating around the bar and I find it difficult to choose just one. A-girl is introducing me to some of them that she knows. Tonight they are all either from her high school or they are somehow related to her.
As I’m standing by the bar, waiting for a drink, another young lady is there – also waiting for a drink. The bartenders are busy in their syncopated dance to fulfill drink requests. This young lady and I start to talk. It’s mostly superficial but it’s nice. She orders a drink with a name that is an expletive deleted. I ordered a beer. When the drinks are brought up I pay for them and tip the bartender heavy.
She picks up the tip in an attempt to walk behind the bar and physically give the tip to our bartender. She is heavy-handedly held back by one of the managers who is standing right behind us. She explains that she was trying to hand the tip to our bartender. The manager gets the bartender’s attention and she hands him the money.
Next thing I know she turns away from the bar and hurriedly walks toward the tables at the end of the place. She returns to her table in the corner – with her date and some other friends. Not so much as a by-your-leave or anything. I think at some point she did thank me for the drink but I was a bit taken aback by her following actions.
I went back to my table and relayed the story to Superman. Nothing I could do really. Nothing I cared to do. I knew she was pretty well drunk while I was talking to her. What did I expect was going to happen? I’ll bet you $5 that she doesn’t even remember the incident today.
So, here I am indiscriminately desiring these women in the bar. Don’t even get me started on the buxom blond wearing the black and white striped top and short-shorts sticking her ass out and not expecting anybody to look. Nice legs, too. But that’s where I’m ending it.
Ever walk into a bar and fall in lust with seven women at once? Easy, big fella. Researchers at Northwestern University studied speed-dating sessions and found that people who desired most or all of their potential dates were the least likely to find a match. People can pick up on indiscriminate desire, and it turns them off, says study coauthor Paul Eastwick Ph.D. Conversely, when someone clearly desired one individual above all others, that individual was more likely to reciprocate. In normal dating scenarios, make the most of those opening minutes with a woman with a compliment tailored to her, Eastwick suggests. Refer to the real her (style or personality), not the superficial (jewelry or smile).
Wow. I had to read this short blurb about 3 or 4 times just to make it was describing me perfectly or just ALMOST perfectly. This is exactly what I do. I almost blushed a little when I read that last part about referring to her style or personality and not her smile. Jeez, I do that all the time. I guess women can sense that. I’m going to have to work on that.
The problem, as I see it can best be summed up by Spaulding Gray in his monologue “Swimming To Cambodia”. I don’t have the exact text but basically he talks about meeting the casting director of “The Killing Fields” (a movie he was in). He admitted that it would be hard for him to be a casting director because it would be hard to pick the best candidate for the part. “Why couldn’t SHE play the part… or her?” Given a list of ten actors for a given part, he would have a hard time choosing the best one.
I feel the same way. Given 10 attractive women I don’t know that I could choose just one based on a 5-minutes conversation or – worse yet – a well-crafted e-mail. What words do I pick up on that tell me “she’s the one”. What insignificant detail could I overlook and pass over a potentially winning candidate.
These are truly things I agonize over. I don’t want to get it wrong. I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others and not make a bad choice. People say I’m picky but, apparently, I’m not picky enough.
I went to a bar last night, invited by A-girl. Superman tagged along and (I think) we had a pretty good time. Anyhow, there are all these attractive women floating around the bar and I find it difficult to choose just one. A-girl is introducing me to some of them that she knows. Tonight they are all either from her high school or they are somehow related to her.
As I’m standing by the bar, waiting for a drink, another young lady is there – also waiting for a drink. The bartenders are busy in their syncopated dance to fulfill drink requests. This young lady and I start to talk. It’s mostly superficial but it’s nice. She orders a drink with a name that is an expletive deleted. I ordered a beer. When the drinks are brought up I pay for them and tip the bartender heavy.
She picks up the tip in an attempt to walk behind the bar and physically give the tip to our bartender. She is heavy-handedly held back by one of the managers who is standing right behind us. She explains that she was trying to hand the tip to our bartender. The manager gets the bartender’s attention and she hands him the money.
Next thing I know she turns away from the bar and hurriedly walks toward the tables at the end of the place. She returns to her table in the corner – with her date and some other friends. Not so much as a by-your-leave or anything. I think at some point she did thank me for the drink but I was a bit taken aback by her following actions.
I went back to my table and relayed the story to Superman. Nothing I could do really. Nothing I cared to do. I knew she was pretty well drunk while I was talking to her. What did I expect was going to happen? I’ll bet you $5 that she doesn’t even remember the incident today.
So, here I am indiscriminately desiring these women in the bar. Don’t even get me started on the buxom blond wearing the black and white striped top and short-shorts sticking her ass out and not expecting anybody to look. Nice legs, too. But that’s where I’m ending it.