My back is itching like so much itching powder has been poured upon it. It is like a thousand mosquitoes have descended upon it, and they are just feasting upon the blood in the vessels on my back. It's like Horace Greeley just mentioned the possibility of heading to the West, and I am feeling young. I almost just broke my poetry vow, but it wouldn't be mine (it's a Housman, and it is gloriously macabre).

Basically, Washington sucks, so go to the West. I suppose Charleston and Charlotte are west of Washington, so advice noted.

Also, it is chilly in Davidson, but I will be returning to my dear most recent home tomorrow, and it shall be wonderful. I am also probably typing quite loudly and annoying my sister who is sleeping in the next room. Revenge, clearly, is mine, and given the temperature of the night, has been served cold. I'm not entirely sure what the revenge is for, but I'm sure there's something. given the usual older sister/younger brother dynamics.

Well, maybe it wasn't that bad after all. Sorry about the loud typing.

Meanwhile, I'm being told to just type and type and hope that I can come up with something, even though last night was an exceptionally rambling post. THESE MESSAGES ARE NOT COMPATIBLE WITH ONE ANOTHER. Meanwhile, I should probably keep writing in the hopes of inspiration striking. Ha HA! I doubt it.

Well, the continuation in writing was ineffective, mostly because I wasn't exactly writing (although I did see several bugs that turned out to be pieces of lint. I do not currently have my contact lenses on. They could actually be pieces of lint, OR they could be Weeping Angels. I prefer my theory.), but hopefully that will be ending presently. I finally received a solid indirect topic suggestion, which is namely, dating.

So, what do I think about dating? It sucks. It has sucked for quite some time. Yes, you have people who somehow do it well. They constantly meet groovy people and then get out of bad relationships before they're actually bad (but with enough reason to avoid looking like an ass).

There are at least 5 signs in this very picture. Try to find them all.

These people have found some sort of Holy Grail, and they are incredible assholes because they are refusing to share any of the Graily goodness that lies within. I mean, good for them, but I will shiv them the first chance I get JUST in case they have that grail on them. Sure, maybe I'm taking this metaphor a little hard, but what if I'm not? What if there IS a sweet dating grail out there? Wouldn't you want a piece of that action? Of course you would. Once again, Rob for Dictator for Life: He'll Find You The Dating Grail.



First stop: All well lit caves.

But okay, let's look at the biggest pet peeve in terms of dating advice. "Blah blah don't come up to women with a line, just introduce yourself and strike up a conversation blah blah." In theory, this makes perfect sense. Most pickup lines are derivative and cliché, and they are certainly immediate red flags. But let's flip this.

You're in a bar. You're out with some friends, just having a nice beer. Suddenly, this person comes up next to you and says, "Hi there. I'm Thus and Such. How are you doing?" What do you do?

We've been over this. Shoot. The. Hostage.

Well, you probably politely say something like, "I'm doing fine. How are you?" and hope the conversation ends. You probably even give terse answers to help it along. Worst case, you ignore the approacher, and you go about your evening.

See, there's the problem. You're out with your friends. Do you really want someone to come up and interrupt you while you're with your friends? You came out with them for a reason. You probably aren't looking to meet anyone. Meanwhile, this person has come up to you, tried to start a conversation, and they get stonewalled.

Named for Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, who once famously turned down over fifty attempts at flirtation.

Well, let's say that this person brings a drink. That means it's story time. Let's travel back to a while ago, when I was out with two friends (let's say Zelda and Chantal)...



Wrong ones, but I like your style.

Now, we're out at a bar, because Zelda wanted to grab some drinks. Zelda gets approached by a young pup named (I shit you not) Colt. Colt even brought a drink along, and he claimed that it was an extra that the bartender gave him accidentally. Colt offers it to Zelda and strikes up a conversation.

Well, a few minutes later, Zelda is mouthing, "Help." Well, dang. Chantal switches places with Zelda, and we quasi-canoodle for a bit as Chantal (erroneously) claims that Zelda and I are dating. No hard feelings, Colt. That's just the way the cookie crumbles.

Now, where were Colt's problems?

1.) His name is Colt. Not his fault, but he could go by any number of other names. Surely his middle name isn't that bad, and even if it is, other nicknames are available. But Colt? Are you a pistol or a 40? Neither one of these is something that seems like a good thing in a first introduction.

2.) He brought a drink from the bar. Now, Colt didn't seem like a bad guy to me (name aside). He seemed like a nice enough college boy. That said, we don't know where that beer's been. He just approached us. We didn't see the drink get poured. Zelda didn't drink any because she was afraid it had been drugged.

3.) Well, he approached a girl who was in conversation with friends. Didn't he read the first part of this? What is this, amateur hour?

Now, yes, you could buy a young lady/gentleman a drink AT the bar, but that requires starting up enough of a conversation to make it not entirely creepy that you're offering to do so. Even once you've bought the drink, he/she can just as easily make an escape, and then you can feel good about yourself, because you're quite the philanthropist.

Or philcanipist? Don't buy dogs drinks. They shouldn't be driving home anyway.

Sometimes you might luck out and catch someone in line, and a conversation might even develop. I've had one incredibly awkward one, and if she didn't know what arrestin did before, well, boy howdy, she sure does now. It's a shame that she had to go take that call from her dying grandmother (even though I couldn't hear the phone ring)- I was just about to get to the part where they start internalizing guanine nucleotide-binding protein coupled receptors and the potential translational applications that the study thereof may provide. But she promised she'd meet me later and we'd talk about it. I'm not sure where and when we're supposed to meet, but she promised, so it's totally happening. Of course, that assumes that you can find someone who's weak enough in their pack of friends that you can approach them, start a conversation, and garner enough interest to keep them intrigued even if they go sit down with their friends.

HI I'M ROBBIE CAMPBELL I STUDY MEDICINE CAN I BUY YOU A DRINK

"Well, OBVIOUSLY, Rob," you might well say. "Bars are an antiquated and inefficient means of meeting people. They go in friend groups and it can be hard to break into the conversation. Do you take us for buffoons? Everyone knows that to meet people, you go to the ____." Ah. Thank you. I forgot all about the ____. Clearly, I have much to learn from you. I would never have thought to try to approach people in the ____. There is really no doubt that the _____ is the greatest place to meet new people, and I will recommend it to all those what read THIS VERY BLOG.

But while I've got you here, let me ask you a few questions.


This can only end well.

When you go to ____, how do you know that the person wants to be approached? I mean, at a bar, you don't know either, but they're at least putting themselves in a social situation that is commonly accepted as a place in which one might meet like-minded persons of the opposite or same sex in which to engage in certain like-minded activities.

Like sultry card games.

Oh, you're using "signals." Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm self-deprecating when it comes to signals. I'm downright oblivious in terms of flirtation. But sometimes if he/she is looking at you, they're just wondering why this creepy person is staring at them? Is it a staring contest they want? Well, then a staring contest they shall have.

They are staring contest champions, LADIES.

Well, what about friends? Or friends of friends? Or iterations thereof that I cannot even fathom? Let's say something starts up. Things are great. And then, well, something happens. She clips her nails into your toilet, and you are very particular about what goes into the toilet and by gum, it's your toilet, so it's your rules. Now, amongst all your friends, forever and ever, you are known as the guy who is super anal retentive and creepy about nail clipping. I mean, is this some sort of weird fetish? And then, well, say goodbye to those friends.

Now, don't get me wrong. We seem to be at a point where you have to make your own opportunities as best you can, but do you really want to take that kind of risk? Sometimes, you manage to strike up a conversation with a nice person that you randomly meet, and that develops into a few dates, and suddenly you're deeply, deeply, for reals this time, truly in love (or you would be, if only she didn't trim her nails into the toilet. That is just unsanitary and is asking for a clogged septic tank, which will lead to all sorts of infections in your two boys and a girl. How inconsiderate). Nine times out of ten, you'll probably be left with a feeling of soul-crushing anxiety about what you could have done to screw things up.

Please don't be the nail-clipping again. I just got new friends.

Like I said, dating sucks. That's why you should get out now. I mean, thank heavens you have someone like me to take on this burden and tell you the right way to do things. You're lucky to have me as a friend. I'll keep an eye out for the bad ones, and if they have any nail clippers, I'll be sure to let them know that you were wondering where they clip their nails. I mean, what are true, totally for real, not trying to turn you off of this thing to get rid of competition, friends for?