9 September 2007
Dating in the District
Normally I don't look to Ann Coulter for dating advice, but this bit from her column in George (4/99) struck me at an angle I know too well:
Boys in Washington don't know how to ask for a date. What they do is try to trick you into asking them for a date. They say, "I know you're really busy, so call me when you'd like to go out to dinner" or "Call me when you're back in Washington" or, my favorite, "Are we ever going to get together?" What are you supposed to say to such completely insane things? I've never figured that out, which is why these conversations tend to end in hostile silences.
"Call me when you'd like to go out for dinner" isn't asking for a date; it's asking me to ask you for a date. For male readers in Washington, asking for a date entails these indispensable components: an express request for a female's company on a particular date for a specific activity. Oh yes, and the request has to be made to the female herself.
Roughly once every two weeks, I get a woman on my answering machine asking me if I'd like to go out with some dumb-ass male friend of hers who's too afraid to call me himself. (For those outside Washington, I'm not kidding.)
This isn't a screeching, hate-filled, anti-male screed. It is a screeching, hate-filled anti-D.C. screed. There's no large sociological point about relations between the sexes here. It's Washington. I know this, because while D.C. males are on my answering machine with vague announcements that they've called, I still get messages from boys in New York saying, for example, "I have tickets for the opera next Friday. Would you like to go?"
Males in every other city know how to ask for dates. So it's not me; it's not feminism; it's not the millennium.
Hmmm. Maybe I have a future as a policy wonk.
Salon, incidentally, put out a vicious (but sporadically funny) riposte to Coulter's plaint.
(With thanks to Pagan Marbury.)Posted at 11:58 AM to Table for One
TrackBack: 7:54 PM, 13 September 2007
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