Dear Sugar,
I am in my late 30s and still in the dating scene (not playing hard-to-get, just haven’t found the right one). I have noticed that more than a few women are interested in how much money I make. In fact I think that “money” for some females, and this doesn’t seem to change with the age of the female, is the pivotal criterion for whether or not there is going to be a second date. To illustrate, a woman I dated recently told me that she could tell where a man was intellectually by the car he drives, the nicer the car the more intellectually developed the man. She said that she won’t date below a Camry (not an older model either, has to be post 2005), since I drive a 1997 Camry I knew that there wouldn’t be a second date for me.
Further, she said that a man in his mid to late 30s should have a Lexus or better (a developmental stage that I have not yet achieved). Are most women like this, or am I having a bad run? Do you have any dating strategies to recommend for a late 30s male who has only achieved the Camry stage and is looking to date in the near Lexus range? Is a rental car cheating?
Thanks,
Chagrin About my Retrograde Transportation
Dear Camry,
Next you’ll be telling me your condo in the Mission needs a new roof. Wait, you don’t even own a condo in the Mission? And you expect me to blow you on the first date? How dare you, Camry.
And so forth.
Here’s what I want to know: how did you end up on a date with this Amex-sponsored prick tease? By this woman’s logic, Arnold Schwarzenegger is a genius and Ghandi is a retard. What are you doing trolling these shallow waters? Did you mommy not love you enough? Did she run over you with a Ford Fiesta?
Dating strategies, Cam? I recommend a strong dose of talk therapy, with particular emphasis on why – in your late 30s – you’re still hung up on material worth. I know we’re in the midst of a recession and I’m sure we’re all feeling antsy about where our next pair of edible underwear is coming from. But isn’t it possible that here in America circa 2009 you might find a women who doesn’t need to count your cattle before offering her heart? Or maybe you enjoy feeling worthless. In which case: get yourself a used Tercel, pronto.
Sugar,
The other day I met a guy on the subway. After the eyeing and the smiling and the coincidental exiting of the train at the same station, we introduced ourselves and exchanged numbers. Chemistry: check.
On our first date it was rapidly revealed that he’s on the opposite end of the political spectrum from me: a Christian conservative. But rather than hissing and spitting, we had a respectful, fascinating dialogue that left me wanting more. I can’t stop thinking about him. Meanwhile he’s decided it was no use to even try.
Should I pursue it?
SINcerely,
The randy radical
Dear Randy,
Everyone knows that conservatives fuck better than liberals. Tucker Carlson said so. And he’s a spitter. So yeah, I’d definitely hunt down this virile Christian and beg for another chance to (as you so salaciously put it) “dialogue.” Insist on a public venue, dress down, and come prepared to debunk the Laffer Curve. Then, when he invites you back to his place, smack his face. For your second date, show up dressed like a Biblical whore. (Mary Magdelene is totally overdone. Try Tamar for a nice change of pace.) Read him the second chapter of the Song of Songs while standing there with your nipples showing. Tell him you’re having impure thoughts and want to be saved. If that doesn’t earn you a thunderous pounding from his rectitudinous manstaff, contact Bill O’Reilly.
Dear Sugar,
Let’s say I have three friends who all like the same girl and I’m not sure who of them is right for her, and I’m not sure the girl is right for any of them either, for that matter. Do I recuse myself from the matter altogether? Or tell them what I think, which will make no one happy? Please keep anonymous!
Dear Anon,
Let’s say you just shrug and say “I don’t know, dude, I heard she had genital herpes.” Because which of your friends is honestly going to say to this women, “I’m no longer interested in you because Anon told me you’ve got genital herpes”?
Or let’s say maybe (years from now) this romantic tangling is going to stand in for a certain period of your life, just before you realized that you were gay. In which case I say: maybe it’s time to forget about the girl and face facts.
Or let’s say at some point it occurs to you that it’s sort of weird and unnecessary – and neurotically intriguing – that you’d be empaneled as the arbiter of this young woman’s loins. You’re not a pimp, are you Anon? That would be so hot if you were.
