An Examination of Dating in the Emerald City: Part Two

Posted: Jul 16 2012



An Examination of Dating in the Emerald City: Part Two

As we continue examining the Seattle Freeze, we’ve reached out to a few people who have come face to face with the enigmatic dating scene here. Our first bachelor has been in the city for only a short period of time but has already come face to face with the often chilly waters of Seattle’s dating culture.

He shared, “Not knowing a soul in the city, I began acclimating to dating in Seattle with a few coworkers during happy hours. There was no shortage of attractive people, and eye contact seemed easy to make and maintain. However, any attempt at verbal contact was often met with surprise or the connection ended quickly after that initial contact. Dating in Seattle instantly reminded me of Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. You may have made that initial hook with some direct eye contact or an opening line, but you still have days ahead of you pulling the line in with some continued subtle contact and giving the line some slack with periods of little communication until you finally have a solid connection and can move forward. You may need to exercise caution otherwise you could snap the line or be dragged out to sea.” Is that it? Is that all we can hope for in a night out? We refuse to believe that this is the norm when it comes to dating. 

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  • Posted by John on August 17, 2012

    she would bring the food. Then she said she would bring a friend. When I picekd them up, the friend turned out to be a female minister. At the concert, the two ladies unfolded a blanket, waited till I sat down, and then both huddled at the orthogonal corner, tucking their legs beneath them. My date said, “I suppose you have to have some meat.” They retained their vegetarian delights over there, at their side of the blanket. The two of them shoved the carton with meat in it all the way across the blanket. It was the sort of meat that is prepared by the lowest-status, newest, most committed employee at a vegetarian deli where they know they have to sell it, but the thought of it is morally unbearable. Meat that was prepared by somebody who sprinkled it with tears while thinking of dead baby squirrels and dead baby deer. I attempted some conversation, across the full width of the blanket. People all around us rightly hissed me for oversounding the noise of distant chamber music, so I gave that up, succumbed to boredom, and slept. When the concert was done, one of them gingerly prodded at me to awaken me. We all went back to her house. The ministress then discovered a certain rude sense of humor. She twinkled, simpered, beamed significantly, and said to my date, “Well, I’ll leave you now. So you can … say good night … to him. I know when I’m not wanted!” Arched eyebrows. She tooled off in a car whose vanity plate was named something like “RevLady.”As soon as she left, my date said, “Well. I suppose you expect a hug. Like all the others.” She closed her eyes, averted her face, extended her arms, and leaned slightly forward from the waist. I said, hastily, trying to tiptoe backward, “Oh, no. NO! Not at all, not at all. No. That’ll be quite all right. No hug necessary. Uh, I better be going now.” Later she and revlady called. I assume they called separately rather than as part of some elaborately concerted plan to entangle a somnolent carnivore. But, somehow, nothing could be worked out.A lot of the wierd dates are intransitive. The ‘other’ is doing something quite normal to him or her, and completely bizarre to you. I think this one was bilaterally wierd, and would not be at all surprised if Ms X and Revlady have posted their version on a website somewhere.

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