Saturday ramble

Where do I even start? Starting chronologically would take us back to the holidays, when my mother--who, by the way, is coming to visit this week (as is my father)--was relentlessly hammering me for being single. That offered some motivation, in an unintended way: I thought, if I'm not single by the next holidays, maybe I'll get out of spending them with my mother. So when I saw a Groupon for speed-dating, went for it (upon recruiting a friend to join me). And then I escaped from mom's hammering and felt no motivation to redeem the Groupon, until a month ago, when I figured I may as well use it before it expired (which it did yesterday).

Let's jump out of chronological order for a minute, to yesterday morning, to a panel event on technical things that you may or may not care about. On my way out, another attendee whom I know--the president of a company--asked me if I was okay. I realized later--I'd just said yes and we moved on to talking about business--that it might have been because she saw me go for my third cup of coffee in the course of the event.

Which takes us back another two weeks, to the other speed-dating event I'd signed up for (the Groupon included two of them) and walked out of before it even started, because I just couldn't take it. I was too tired. So when they told me--when I showed up at 7pm as instructed--that they wouldn't get going for another half-hour, I just walked away. But wait--you say--there's another 10 percent! Correct: that is the constant disproportion, at these events, between women and men. Once I redeemed the Groupon, I kept on getting their e-mails, which advertised their events as sold-out to women and needing more men. Who needs that $hit? I live in that; I don't need to pay extra for it.

But I was determined to go to this one (and I'd already paid for it). So I had three cups of coffee, compared to my usual none. And it was not a bad night; I mean, there were no promising dudes, but it was not entirely unenjoyable; I had some interesting four-minute conversations, learned some interesting things.

Allow me another break in the chronology. I forgot to mention that the friend who'd agreed to join me, had since coupled up and would not be joining me. But I still texted her before and after. One of her texts--at 10:47 last night--was, "You've got to be kidding me. Please tell me that's going on your blog." So here we are. Here I bring you the most inane conversation of the evening:

Dude: Where are you from?

A.: The Boston area.

D.: How do you like DC? Have you managed to find good seafood around here?

A.: Well, I don't actually eat seafood...

D.: You don't eat seafood???

A.: No... actually, I don't eat meat (or dairy or eggs).

Please note that, of the 20ish guys I talked to that evening, this was the only one with whom the vegan thing came up; I was not broadcasting it.

D.: You can't even eat eggs?

A.: I wouldn't say I can't. I just don't.

D.: You can't eat meat? Or dairy? Or eggs?

A.: I can. I just don't.

I wasn't trying to be difficult or even ideological; it's just that "I don't"--"I choose not to"--more accurately describes the way I eat. It feels wrong to me to say or even agree with "I can't." I explained that I could eat whatever I wanted to, and that when I travel, I often end up consuming dairy or even seafood, because it's what's there. But that I prefer not to.

D.: Can vegans even breastfeed their babies?

A.: [Cannot suppress look of "that's the stupidest f*ing thing I've ever heard."]

D.: I mean, I'm just asking. I thought that the whole vegan mantra is no meat or dairy.

A.: There's no mantra; it's not a cult... and there's no vegan take on breastfeeding. Vegans are vegan for any variety of reasons, and many of those reasons are based in animal-rights or environmental considerations. Which do not translate into a prohibition on breastfeeding.

Not that it matters, but one underlying logical thread of veganism from a health perspective is that adults are not meant to drink breast milk (much less another animal's milk); milk is for nourishing babies. If you're going to invoke that crazy woman who wouldn't supplement her baby's food, I'm merely going to point out that there are all kinds of crazy people, including omnivores, who malnourish their kids.

Anyway, D. was the only ridiculous date of the evening. The others were merely 'meh' or just not right for me. And shifting gender roles complicate dating these days:

"Men are almost afraid of being in the role of pursuing because they don't want to be perceived as creepy," Battista said. "And successful, independent women still want men to step up. As a result, it's almost like a standoff."

And it's not just theoretical; women still want men to step up because if they're not going to step up in the pursuing, we doubt they're going to step up in the dating, should it occur. A friend of mine just bravely, politely told a dude she'd been seeing that she'd had it with his flakiness and his stringing her along. She was done doing all the work, in response to his occasional, tepid signs of interest. 

There goes part of Evan Marc Katz's world view (partly taken down--through the takedown of another book--here), even before George Clooney and even before the study debunking the myth of the trophy wife. (I still subscribe to the do-not-call-him part, and that is still the most popular page on my blog). It's comical to me know that I for a minute bought into the ideas that (1) guys--at least the guys I'd want to date--didn't care about brains and (2) I should let up on caring about brains. I did try, and I couldn't do it. I need to date someone I can respect intellectually.