The Inappropriate Spectrum

I've been hit on, in the last two weeks, by both a 17 year old kid in Downtown Crossing all decked out like a rap star (he even had a CD he'd recorded), and a dirty old doctor in his 60's at a fancy fish restaurant in Fanueil Hall. The kid told me he'd "remember my dimples" and the DOD touched my ass.

Clearly it was time to take action.

So I'm back on the Internet dating pony. A friend took some fetching photos of me and I posted them. I've had two e-mails so far, one from a shorter than me programmer and one from a taller than me architect. Of course I am not writing back to either one of them until at least Monday.

And I got some great advice on how to get the man to pay for dinner, from a woman who lives in Miami and goes out with all sorts of fancy fellows. When the check arrives, I cross my arms and lean back in my chair, make eye contact with the man, and ask him a probing question, all the while looking just fascinated to hear his answer. If he doesn't end up grabbing the check after, say, half an hour, I say "Would you like a little help with that?"

Genius.