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Our next stop in the quest for an RNDP takes us to City Flirting: the Flirt Blog and a post from December 2005, about a year and a half before the blog went dormant. In You Had Me At: "Encapsulated Big Fat Opening", flirting scholar Dan, is told that his tendency to share his knowledge of astronomy is why he doesn't get dates. (Dan's mistake was trying to explain why Venus is both the morning star and the evening star but never the midnight star by explaining "...it's always within 45 degrees of the sun." I can attest that explaining the position of Venus in the sky and other astronomical phenomena by instead using salt and pepper shakers and beer coasters has a disarming effect on certain females even if they still don't understand.)
Dan tries to explain that he is not a true geek because if he was he would invent a robot companion to date or he would invent a new dating paradigm. (I believe this means that I am still in good standing to be considered a true geek because as you know, by the end of this series, we will have not only a new dating paradigm but a revolutionary new dating paradigm. I don't believe robots will have anything to do with the new paradigm.)
In the next sentence he says he doesn't have to invent a new dating paradigm because Solveig Haugland has and she has written a book about it.
Dating Design Patterns is modelled on Design Patterns, a manual for developers of object-oriented software. It is essentially a set of techniques for males to be more effective at courting females using the traditional North American dating paradigms of the late 20th and early 21st Century. It offers a number of possible schema for socially-awkward males to adopt. Dan identifies his favourites as:
Half Bad Boy Plus Protocol: Structuring one's appeal based on equal parts considerate gentlemanly attributes and "bad boy" behavior or facade.
Trojan Proxy: An extremely effective, low-risk, high-planning pattern for connecting through a third-party safe proxy. Strategies include children, pets, female friends and married male friends.
Unexpected Resource God: Maintain a large pool of resources women typically need, and create a connection through replying to requests or by broadcasting a list of resources. A large rucksack is recommended.
Although Solveig's patterns are not a new paradigm, there are fellows who can use this advice. I have two specific tips for implementing the "Unexpected Resource God" pattern:
On their date, she found that "he was insipidly narcissistic and just plain boring". Showing that she is a true pioneer of science, she continued with her new paradigm and asked out two more strangers. In one case, the man was married and declined. With the other, she reported having two fun dates, a third date planned and being at "that point of either becoming friends or moving on to something a little more serious."
Sadly, I can find no further reports from Ms Brome. Those of you who are pessimists may conclude that something terrible occurred on the third date. I prefer to think that our intrepid researcher found herself in love and chose to protect the privacy of her new partner by not writing about the relationship.
4d Analysis: Brome's new paradigm has one element that explicitly differentiates it from her old paradigm: She is asking out men rather than waiting for a man to ask her out. What is not so clear is whether her old paradigm included going on dates with complete strangers. Whether it did or not, her new paradigm clearly allows it. In this paradigm:
Her anecdotal report suffers from the main problem with research in this field: the small non-random sample makes it impossible for us to draw general conclusions. However, it does demonstrate that while her paradigm can result in a boring date, it can also result in a fun date.
This leads to a formula I have developed for assessing the Expected Value of a Date (EVD) for someone using this paradigm:
EVD= Pb × Ab + Pf × Af
Where:
Let's assume that the date will be boring if the man has narcissist personality disorder, Asperger's syndrome, or is an accountant.
Narcissists: 1% of the population have NPD, but perhaps 75% of those with NPD are men. So lets say 1.25% of men have NPD. [Wikipedia]
Asperger's: It's hard to get a handle on the prevalence of Asperger's, let's go with a high estimate of 0.4%. [Wikipedia again]
Accountants: It's danged hard to find out how many accountants there are in Canada. At least I couldn't find out in the five minutes I spent looking. But I found out how many Canadians were employed in "Finance, insurance, real estate and leasing" and in "Professional, scientific and technical services" in 2007: 1,060,400 + 1,136,900 out of 16,866,400 employed = 13%. [Statscan]
Making the unlikely assumption that there is no overlap in these groups, we arrive at a total of 14.7% for Pb and a corresponding 85.3% for Pf or that it will be a fun date.
Now, how bad is a boring date? Let's set an evening at home watching CSI and Law and Order as 1 fun unit (Fu) while an evening at home with nothing on but reruns is 0 Fu. Can we say that a boring date is -1 Fu? And the average fun date is 2 Fu?
If so we get:
EVD = 14.7% × -1 Fu + 85.3% × 2 = 1.56 Fu
This means that a woman who uses Brome's paradigm regularly can expect over the long run to have evenings that are noticeably better than watching new episodes of CSI and Law and Order.
This is an important finding, but the quest must continue because we have not yet settled whether fun should be a focus of dating and we don't know the likelihood that dates with smiling attractive strangers will lead to deeper relationships.
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[1] We should not assume that Ms Brome is shallow. Liking someone's looks can go well beyond appreciating their high cheekbones and low waist-to-hip ratio. It is also about noticing whether they have kind smiles for their friends and the serving staff, how often they laugh instead of frown, whether they have an artful sense of style or a lack of vanity, and much, much more.
[2] This is why Aggie avoids Big Crab's Daddy Shack.
A few nights ago, after a date with a cute pixie, I hailed a taxi to go home.
“Hello pretty lady,” the young, swarthy taxi driver amiably says even before my itsy bitsy rear end is comfortably positioned on the seat.
Hmmm, he’s good, I think. He’s managed to cover up creepiness in his voice completely. So, what’s he up to? Is this just an innocent comment? Something he says to all the women who get into his cab?
He starts chatting. I learn that he is a full-time taxi driver and a part time student, and that he is 20 years younger than I am.
Then, somehow in the midst of talking about school and the courses he is taking, he turns on the overhead light, spins his head around to face me, flutters his long black eye-lashes at me and declares, “I prefer mature women!”
He turns back to facing the road, and turns off the light. I hear him chuckle.
“You prefer mature women? How mature?” I question.
He turns around again, the light goes on once more, and he presents me with a pout this time. “Your age.” he says softly.
I can’t help but feel that this young Don Juan pup has taken lessons from 4D in wooing women.
He returns to a safe driving position, the light is turned off again, and another chuckle is perceived.
“And why do you prefer older women?” I ask, determined to control the conversation.
“I like that they are experienced, that they do not have inhibitions, that they never have headaches, and that they take care of me…”
“So, are you married?” I ask, knowing fully well that he is. He wears a wedding band.
No chuckle this time. He is serious as he says, “I don’t know why, but I feel comfortable telling you this. I don’t usually tell women this (I don’t believe him), but my wife is cold. She is a good mother and a good wife, but she is cold. You understand what I mean, right?”
It’s a long ride and he continues, asking me directly at one point if I will consider being his lover. The overhead light is turned on many times, and many times he twists around and purrs, “Look at my lips… Don’t you want to know more about these lips? Don’t you want kisses from these lips?”
I am quick at deflecting, and getting him to talk more about his wife and children.
He starts laughing after a while, and resorts to chatting in a friendly manner. He stops pursuing me, and wants to know what kissing means to me. It is a serious question.
When we arrive at my place, he tries one last time, “Are you sure that you are not interested?”
“Yes, I am sure.” I repeat confidently.
“Listen,” I say, “think about this when you go home to your wife tonight. You claim that you like older women, correct? Well, that beautiful young wife of yours will one day be a mature woman. She will be the kind of woman you desire.”
He smiles at me. I suspect that I have made a point.
As I hand him the fare, he takes my hand and kisses it gently and says goodnight.
I am not offended. He has conceded defeat in a gentlemanly manner.
But, I am left to wonder about one part of the conversation… what does kissing really mean to most people?
There has been some talk around here lately about flirting. Seems some of you are comfortable flirting, some of you have issues with flirting and some of you don't know you're being flirted with until someone plants a wet one on your lips.
I, of course, am an expert on flirtation, but rather than share my expertise with you people at no charge, I am holding out for a government contract. As you've no doubt heard, the government of Singapore has introduced a university course on flirtation. In a year or two, they will need someone to lead their graduate-level classes and they'll be looking to hire me. Either that, or our own government will realize that Canada is falling behind in the love-gap and bring me in to straighten things out.
Still I have some advice for you developmentally-delayed daters. Here it is:
I can hear you already! "Are you crazy, Dwarf? You don't go to a movie on the first date! You can't talk at the movies. You can't learn more about the person."
I say, "exactly!" You can't talk at the movies. The more you talk with someone, the more likely you are to find out things about each other that will turn you off. There is plenty of evidence that the time you spend before the movie is more than enough time for two people to become attracted to each other and things you believe are turn-offs and turn-ons for you, probably aren't. [e.g. News or Journal].
And if you don't know each other, after the movie you will have a shared experience to talk about.
Then there's the situation where the date is with someone you know really well. Maybe for years. Had lunch together every work day for months. Helped each other buy clothes. Let's face it, if you're in this situation another opportunity for talking is not going to help you get on base. Go to a movie.
You're in the dark, you can't talk, but you can smooch. If the movie is awful, smooching will improve it; if the movie is wonderful, smooching will add to the emotion.
If at any point in this process your move is rebuffed, just say, "sorry, I get affectionate at the movies" and go back to being just friends. If they go to a movie with you again, you'll know you are in there. If they don't, maybe you'll move on and stop wasting your time with a hopeless unrequited passion.
Other resources:
Over at the Elgin Street Muse blog, there is quite a bit of talk about flirting. Manny Blue mentioned that flirting is a four season activity. Anonymous wanted more instruction. Conch Shell felt it was more of a pre-relationship thing. I like that Aggie concluded that we should just be doing it, and not over thinking it. Certainly, to me, it is an every day activity.
I flirted with an enchantingly pretty young woman this morning. The barista at a Starbucks. She had wild, radiant hair that had strands pulled up in a few places and that were held up by coloured elastics and pretty little barrettes. She wore shiny shell and silver jewelry, and at first I thought she looked a bit like a fairy tale princess - like the one in The Princess Bride. I noticed that the chalk board on the counter that names the baristas had a drawing of two Mermaids (one blonde with wild hair like my barista). When she handed me my coffee, I looked her in the eyes, smiled amiably, and told her that she did indeed look like a mermaid. She broke out into a lovely smile, and thanked me sweetly.
I flirted with a scrumptious young man this afternoon at a Bridgehead. I liked how he had a bit of an old fashioned look about him - as if he had just walked out of the late seventies. Maybe I just wanted to believe he looked that way, because that is when I would have been the age that I suspect he is now. I asked him if he would make my latté pretty like the last time. Last time he made a half-moon design in the foam. We chatted about how in Vancouver they make all kinds of nice designs in the latté foam. He had my undivided attention. He mentioned that a friend of his was being flown from Vancouver to somewhere in the States to compete in foam decorating.
“I’m really not very good at this,” he apologized.
“In Vancouver someone made a heart in my foam.” I mentioned.
“There you go,” he said handing me my latté, “but I don’t know what it is.”
“Look,” I said, turning the cup around for him to see, “it’s a tulip.”
“Oh, wow, so it is.” He marveled at his art.
I winked at him and said, “Now I can tell my friends that a nice young man gave me a flower today.”
He smiled and blushed.
Ms Army Pants witnessed the flirt with the young man and was told about the flirt with the young girl. She called me dirty.
“You’d do anything for sex wouldn’t you.” She accused.
“It’s not about sex,” I protested. “I am much too old for either of them. It’s about connecting, it’s about having conversations, it’s about making people smile…” I explained passionately and honestly.
“No, you’re just dirty.” She insisted.
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