New Jersey wit is an acquired taste. Some people think I'm hilarious, others don't get me. I come from a family who talks in run on sentences, so here an example: I... enjoy politics, read People Magazine and the Wall Street Journal, subscribe to Newsweek just to read Fareed Zakaria, a moderately successful guy, a lawyer and a writer, looking for someone sweet, kind and generous of spirit. The hip thing to say is that my life is perfect but, shucks, that just ain't true, I yearn for that soulful glance across the kitchen table, and without a good woman to share it all, then what’s it all about, Alfie? Born in New Jersey, now living in Bel Air on a street full of ex-Jerseyites, 4 great boys, mostly away at school, but I still have my golden retreiver named Carlos.
A dog, kids, a swimming pool, summertime, and ipod speaker system, playing eachother's music and racing for the tennis ball. That's a good way to spend a saturday afternoon. Just to make it perfect, let's have some watermelon.
Women who like dogs usually like me. Maybe it's my drooling sincerity.
Some people have written me with comments about my profile. It's actually welcomed. I'm a writer, and so I like feedback. And how else would I know the reaction in this vast hinterland of internet dating.
I don't have a list of requirements. That's not the way I think. I'm ready for the uncalculated adventure. I'm looking for someone who is interested in sharing whatever comes up, sharing excitement, sharing quiet moments and traveling together through the pain and pleasure of life. We're physically active, gossipy, adventurous and unafraid.
In my experience, it's the hard times that add depth to a relationship. There really are more important things than deciding which new restaurant to try. In that way, I think the recession will be a good thing for our collective souls. Conspicuous comsumption was starting to take over. On the other hand, I do like the new hip stuff, like that restaurant at the SLS Hotel. The food is creative. And a trip to Vegas, with the thrill of Saturday night. Those pleasures have their place, and I wouldn't mind going there tonight.
I live near the Beverly Glen Centre (the top of Beverly Glen, near Mulholland) and it's a nice place to hang out, feel the warm air, drink wine or coffee, watch our dogs, etc. We could casually meet there. Or activity dates are good, like a social game of tennis.
I'm open minded and prefer to spend my time with like minded people. If you like to lecture people on morality, please keep moving. Non-judgmental is more my style. You're entitled to see things in black and white, but I exist in the gray area.
A good first date:
After a nice dinner, we walk quietly back to the parking lot only to find someone stealing my new car. I pull the thug out of the car, throw him onto the pavement, and he runs off into the night. Struck by the moment, she runs to me, kisses me and says "Wow! That's was something. Now let's hurry home and watch Letterman."
My Worst First Date
We were having tea at some place in Venice, when she got right to the point. “Here's what I want." she said. "There’s so much inequality in this world. I want a comrade in arms. People spend too much time trying to help their family and help their friends, when they should be organizing their communities, educating people, tearing down the corrupt economy. That’s what I want in a man, someone to work with me on those goals.”
I responded: “Well, what about the personal relationship between a man and a woman.”
“I’m talking about the most meaningful personal relationship there is, starting the revolution that changes the world.”
I sipped my tea, and looked down at the table, where I noticed her magazine “The Nation.” I looked up and she said very seriously “Don’t waste my time if you can’t handle it”.
Trying to be funny, I said “Too bad Fidel Castro is not available for internet dating.”
“What that supposed to mean?”
“He kinda seems like your ideal man.”
“Don’t you dare trivialize Fidel Castro. He is a great revolutionary.”
“Oh, please. He's been terrible for Cuba."
“You’ll never be half the man of Fidel Castro.”
“OK. Maybe we can change the subject. Let’s see what kind of food they have here.”
“Really? I thought this was going so well.”
“And don’t follow me to my car.”
“Let me guess. A 5 year old Prius?”
“Oh, so you have been following me?”
Two attractive women came into the tea shop and I smiled at them, trying to take my mind away from my nutty date. “And now you’re flirting with other women, while you’re on a date with me.”
“I thought our date was over.”
“None too soon. You loser.” And she left.
Relieved, I sat there alone. The women in the next table looked at me, wondering what that was all about. So I told them “That was my ex wife. She caught me with her sister and wants to go on Jerry Springer to work it out.”
They laughed. I laughed back. This was the kind of silly banter I wanted for my Friday night. One of them said “There’s this place across the street that serves well drinks for two dollars during happy hour. You can buy us drinks and we will laugh at everything you say because it's Friday night."
Within minutes, we were across the street drinking gin and tonics and eating pretzels. The gin slowed down my senses, until suddently I felt cold liquid and ice splash onto my face. Coca Cola and rum. The crazy Castro girl had thrown her Cuba Libre in my face. She shouted defiantly “I told you not to follow me!”
|A blond woman was speeding down the road in her little red sports car and was pulled over by a policewoman, who was also blond. The blond officer asked to see the blond driver's License. She dug through her purse and was getting progressively more agitated. What does it look like?' she finally asked.
'It's square and it has your picture on it,' replied the policewoman. The driver finally found a square mirror, looked at it and handed it to the policewoman. 'Here it is,' she said. The blonde officer looked at the mirror, then handed it back saying, 'Okay, you can go. I didn't realize you were a cop.'
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