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Are all Ex’s like a pair of Levis?


Virginia says,” Ex-husbands are like a pair of Levis.

When they are new, you love them. You take care of them and they fit you. They look good on you and they go with everything.

Then they began to wear a little thin. And they’re not so great anymore.

They are a let down. A zipper may break.  You might experience the heartbreak of broken zipper or a broken vow.

Then, let’s say after 8+ years of wear and tear and in some situations, those Levis don’t fit your life…

You have problems with style, shape, communication.

You wake up one day and realize you might have to go to a tailor for a repair… or even get professional help.

Conclusion: It’s not a perfect fit.

You conclude one day: those old Levis are not only uncomfortable, worn out and  out of style… You deserve better.

You deserve designer jeans.

Really good, supportive, a  great fit…you deserve the best.

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Are you a Raya Reject? Join the club

Making the Raya Cut- The hip connector for creative types

Emily – 40+, (former ski bunny, model, sail boat captainess, chef extraordinare) is a very attractive woman.

She has been around the block with online dating sites  and was on a “social sabbatical.” Then, she heard about Raya. The exclusive, haughty for hotties-only site. Sadly, thousands of people have been RAYA-jected from the $8.00 a month dating site.

The You Must Have List for memebership is long: You must be hip and hot and have 1000 Instagram followers; a Raya-enrolled friend must “refer” you and no dullards or dotards need apply- you must have an interesting occupation (doctor, tailor, candlestick maker?)

Are you a Barbie or a Barney?

Ask-Jean_Which-Is-Worse-UV-Rays-or-Self-Tanner-Ingredients_TRU1283105-2Araya designs BaBy Toys

pexels-photo-219619.jpeg Cellestte is a photo-GRAPHER

Our Friend Emily went to work and  “liked” several hundred more Instagram folks in a matter of hours, and her numbers of followers crept up and well over 2000. Bam!       She reached out and touched a lot of people…she was looking for a Raya Royal (aka  Raya member.) Within two hours she had tracked down friends of friends: two sisters – both members – both happy to promote her. Double Bam! They gave her ‘scoops and warnings.” The New York Times said Raya rejects 92% of the applicants…fortunately, our Emily is very connected and stunning and driven.

It took time. She threw her head back and laughed when the sisters told her a committeee of 500 would vote her on or off the island. Just like high school: when the Junior and Senior girls (aka Mean Girls) would deem who would be popular.

Finally, Selected!  

Haute to Trot…she downloaded the app and away she went to …the farthest thing from a ray a sunshine. Her new friends said – tongue in cheek – Raya is for famous people like Amy Schumer.  Didn’t she meet that infamous, moody guy, who went from  waiter to chef around Martha’s Vineyard?  Who knows?

Emily spent hours cruising…looking…seeking- she kept seeing the word ‘classy.’ Her mother told her, a long time ago, people who use the word – aren’t. 

She says she started playing the violin at five, was in the famed Girl’s Choir, studied both opera and ballet one summer -nevermind where….or for how long – it all looked good on paper.

Within days, Emily was seeing a lot of Paris Hilton types…she guessed she was accepted as a novelty…her daddy was also very successful…she said she attended Stanford ( indeed: a summer school class on film) and Punaho Prep in Honolulu – like Obama – (a summer school romp.)

Meat Market or Meet Market? The jury is out and ‘Emily with the razzle dazzle lifestyle’  (certainly not her real name) is treading lightly.

Not one to put all her eggs in one basket…Emily is still on the prowl….

 

Her idea of a great date? Eating?

Diana changed her name to Lady Di when she signed up for online dating sites.            At first, she played cute and flirty. She listed a ton of fun activities (copied from the Bay Guardian) and posted an obscure photo of herself.  She was delighted with the flood of attention. She responded to each and every wink, note, and query.  She found 50% were dead-ends: no response. Quelle bummer.

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On a whim,  she listed her Top 10 Favorite Places in San Francisco. There was no mention of Golden Gate Park, museums, cafes or bars, special events, the Presidio, Chinatown, DogPatch or the SF Giants. This is whot she wrote:

My Top 10 Places

1. Neighbor Bakehouse = Cinammon Almond Bostock
2. B Patisserie = Choco-yum-croissant
3. Zanze’s Cheesecake = The Classic Cheesecake
4. Ariscault = All Yummy Croissants
5. Yasukochis Japantown = 1960’s Classic Coffee Crunch Cake
6. Chili Pies Baking Co.= Berry, Chococlate, Every Pie
7. Dynamo Donuts = Famed Decadent Donuts
8. Golden Gate Bakery = Egg Tart to die for
9. Mr Holmes Bakehouse = The Famous Cruffin, 
10. La Luna Cupcakes = Six Pack Cupcakes
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Lady Di said very few men responded to her lovingly created and curated list. And she was perplexed. She thought, for sure, her long list would attract somebody of a like mind. Zip. Nada. Zero.

When we met for the first appointment, she admitted to the dead end she hit with her sharing of her food passion. She was very perplexed and had no idea what she had done “wrong.” When I asked Lady Di what her favorite activities were, without hesitation, she admitted “Eating.”

Her weekends were dedicated to exploring new restaurants, ice cream stores, and bakeries. She really had no use for exercise, sporting events, touring, biking, or long walks. 

We spent an hour digging deep looking for other interests. She used to knit, used to ride bikes, went to Napa wine tastings, had dance lessons and  attended multiple sporting events and, one day: she didn’t. Getting Diana to admit to what the pivotal event was to turn her from (30 lbs lighter) an active, outgoing woman to a “Foodie,” ws the result of two more meetings.

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to be continued…

 

Dating Hoax 101:Hooked by a Catfish

hope

She said she was 42, divorced, amorous, available and waiting for Mr. Right.

Her pictures were stunning – she was a tall, lanky, brunette – often posing in clothing befitting a lingerie model. That was sexy – yet, strange –as she said she was trained as an attorney. She readily admitted she only had a few clients- very wealthy clients – who flew her to their resort-like homes for consultations. She practiced Business Law.

And she didn’t like to talk about her profession.

On the free dating website, her name is Venus. She loves the beach, puppies, NCIS, negligees, chocolates and roses. As a rule, after the exchange of two emails she generally gives out her phone number. She is very friendly and flirty.

Mike met Venus online five years ago and they have been chatting on the phone ever since. He is married – his wife doesn’t understand him. Mike would really like to meet her in person – however, Venus is always in court. He understands – she is very famous. He lives in Wyoming. He is in love with Venus and is willing to wait.

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Tim met Venus online six months ago. He is ready to move from Texas to San Francisco to be near her. He is a mechanic- and wants to work at Tesla.  They talk on phone every day. Her Skype is broken. Darn. He wants to fly out and take her to dinner at “A fancy place in Frisco – her choice.” She tells him – she would love it – when the big case is over. Her last case took two years to settle. He can’t wait to see her penthouse in the Marina District of San Francisco – it has views of “all the bridges” and she can hear “the trolleys” and smell the French Bread being baked. Tim hangs on her every word.

Tim is trusting and in love. Not a computer -guy – he would never think of Googling Venus – her law firm, her home address with all those classic San Francisco treats. Hence, the successful masquerade by Venus.

As Fate would have it: Venus (aka Janice B.) lives in Fremont. She is single/never married, 55, and for a month, was a nanny for an attorney and his wife. She is a clerk at Kohl’s. She is clever, lonely and really good at “spinning yarns”  according to her sister whose hesitates to call Janice a liar. In five years, Janice has met and engaged – over the phone and texting- with two dozen men online. She has never met any of the men in person.

Buyer Beware: There are schools of scammers called Catfish – who pretend to be something they aren’t…lying is second nature and there are no ethics involved. Think: Web of lies

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Catfish: verb: To be baited by a person ‘trolling/trawling the internet – pretending to be someone thery aren’t.

Dr Phil has done a public service show – exposing these Catfish scam artists.  See Here: 

See: Catfish definition

See the MTV Show Catfish

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The most common lie is that which one lies to himself; lying to others is relatively an exception.
Friedrich Nietzsche

Dorothy the Dating Diva meets a Hay you! man, a Tin Man, a Lyin’ guy

Dorothy, everybody’s favorite serial dater, was a peripatetic-romantic. She amazed her friends with the number of dates she went on, each week.

Testing the Waters?
In th beginning…She was a real-live dating diva on Craigslist; meeting new men every week, buoyed her confidence and prompted Dorothy to join Plenty of Fish.

She instantly learned the ‘catch and release’ practice at Plenty of Fish, and she trawled every day. She was exhilarated with coffee dates, walking dates and her favorite, ‘choose a museum and entertain me’ gauntlet.

Eventually, tired of the one site, she decided to become an active member on both Eharmony and Spiritual Singles.

Like magic, Dorothy’s calendar filled with dates. Her friends teased her that they needed a scorecard to keep track of all the men in her life.

She claimed to know, within the first five minutes, if the guy was “A Keeper” or a “Next!”

Her friends counted, she had 84 dates in four months. Dorothy was definitely on a quest to meet Mr. Right. Friends wondered if she was looking for Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now?

 

Deja Vu All over Again

Eventually, Dating Dorothy realized she was dating the same three men, over and over again. Her friends loudly agreed and told her the guys resembled characters on the Wizard of Oz.            No flying monkeys or munchkins allowed.

The first type of man she kept re-meeting, re-visiting, and re-encountering and was a typical cowardly lion: all bravado, no bite.

Take Mike, please.

Mike is a retired jock; at one time in his life he was a 10, swaggered around campus in his letterman’s jacket, had that IBM internship, married his high school sweetheart and, bam! He woke up 20 years later; he was divorced, disenchanted, not even close to being a 10- what with those extra pounds, gleaming chrome dome, and had new bachelor pad by IKEA in Sausalito.

However, Mike still thought he was pretty cool- save for one thing: he was afraid of women. Dorothy classified him as “all talk no action.” Mike could talk a mean story, flirt up a storm, and then he ran out of steam and went home. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He had a great roar and no follow-up. Oddly, Dorothy was, initially  attracted to this.

Hay – Look Me Over- The Straw Man

Her next magnetic attraction was a typical Straw-Man. He looks great from the outside: dashing, debonair, well coiffed, drives the right, leased, black BMW sedan and can talk for hours about himself and his myriad accomplishments. However, there’s no-there-there. A classic Straw Man has very little substance. Dorothy liked some aspects. Not all. Next!

Is He a Tin Man or Iron Man?

Dorothy’s friends laugh when she tells them she’s met a new man at the gym. Again.  Déjà vu all over again. “The Type” is usually a “half iron” man…

Often he is somewhat tall, dark, and mildly handsome and totally in love with himself. Yeah, he has a big heart and his heart belongs to- himself.

Any Psych 101 student would say he must’ve been battered and bruised in a relationship and has created an impenetrable shield around his heart. So much for a two-way relationship.

Our friend Dorothy threw in the towel after this waterfall of fun she was having dried up. She got bored – said it wa a deja vu and she was going to quit the dating scene. The Withdrawals  were hard. In a week – or two – she filled her calendar withe trips, exploring, movies, museums, Giants Games, dance lessons. She loved  joining a Singles walking club.

And so it begins…back at the dating trough.

Her shopping list for Mr Right was too long

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She calles herself “Sexie Sindie.” She is on the lookout for The Perfect Man. She has a shopping list a mile long.

She won’t date a man who has been divorced more than once or who is living in a studio apartment. She doesn’t like cats, dogs, bicyclists swathed in lycra, men who smoke or vegetarians.

She can’t stand men who don’t use the turn signal while driving and will not tolerate any who use their middle finger to display anger. She hates to see a man driving a car with a dog in his lap. Eating donuts is a very big NO. She has been called a “Picky Eater” by friends and foe. She will be in a panic if it isn’t organic. Sugar is her enemy and she loathes all white foods. Her friends marvel at her love for Kale and Quinoa. The two are her staples, she dabbles in organic spinach and cabbage and Pressed Juices. Yes, she is very very thin

 

What she does like: is a single, employed or retired, guy who owns his own house. A pool ( sauna, spa, ) is extra “points.”  Her long list of “Must Haves” reeks of gold-digger.

She admits to her best friends,  her tiny studio apartment, in the beautiful old building, is a “buzzkill” and she never allows a date to enter her private chambers.

Sindie dated Thomas for three months before he gave up trying to make her happy. He wined and dined her. On their 10th date he gave her a Tiffany heart and she offered a polite “Thank you” and later tucked it her her jewelry drawer. She had sold three other Tiffany Heart gifts on eBay. His would be next. She dubbed Thomas “irrelevant” and moved on.    Alone. Single. Searching and very unhappy.

 

“I love being irreverent. But I hate being irrelevant. I love being irreverent because at the end of the day your actions belie your intentions.

Esai Morales

 

Irrelevant

Dating in 2018: Match.com – dream or nightmare?



So I walked into the Friday Night cocktail party at the DeYoung Museum.

A man comes up to me and says, “ I’m 6’ tall, 185 pounds, spiritual not religious, income: I’ll tell you later. I like NASCAR, a Cuban cigar, hot dogs and pizza and boxing. I’ve seen American Sniper three times and I think Lady Gaga is a freak and I like the guy in the White Housee. May buy you a drink? And, tell me:  what are you tipping the scales at, Tiny?

Next!

I climb the stairs to the African Mask Collection and a man approaches and says, “I’m average height, average build, love to snuggle and to shop at Victoria’s Secret.” (What? A cross-dresser?) He continues, “I live in Santa Rosa and I won’t drive more than 20 miles to meet the woman of my dreams -who, by the way, is ‘Barbie.’ How old are you?”

Bye!

Some fancy dance work and a quick escape right, to the Portrait Gallery and another man advances and says, “Hello beautiful! Let’s skip the small talk: I’m Scorpio, very lonely, never married, no kids, live alone; I have a very, very, big, bike. Can I take you for a ride? I just finished “The da Vinci Code” ”and “50 Shades of Gray” is on my bedside table. Want to read it together? What’s your income?”

Hasta la vista, baby!

I exit down the hall, a quick left turn to the Hudson Valley Painters Gallery. I happened upon ‘Mr. Burlingame.’ He is my height, my age, big smile and twinkling eyes – introduces himself and says his interested in talking and eliminating the mindless chatter about astrology and  pets – if that was okay. And then he said, “Your picture doesn’t do you justice.” (A.k.a. The six sexiest words on Match.com)

He proceeded to ask me questions about me and my life and he listened.

 We talked and walked right into the Chihuly Room and later found ourselves next to Wayne Thiebaud’s “The Gumballs” and ended up standing in front of the spectacular new Liz Fracchia painting.

The museum was about to close…and the party was not over.

 We have been together every day since.

photo_1186_20060227ace hearts

 

What’s your story? Tell me your dating story: page.larkin@gmail.com

Fear and Loathing of Dating in San Francisco?

Since when did the men and women in San Francisco become so afraid of one another?

Does online dating perpetuate a fear of rejection or a fear of commitment?

Perhaps the breakneck speed of cyber dating has given singles ‘Virtual Whiplash’ and an abject fear of rejection. If you are enrolled in a dating service like Tinder, Match.comor EHarmony, you receive emails with pictures of your so-called ‘perfect matches’ on a daily basis. This overload of information may cause side effects of head spinning, heart palpitations and ego swelling.

Photo-Shopping for Prince Charming?

And so it goes: you are on virtual shopping spree with a Photo-shopping bent. Beginners go from diligently reading profiles and daydreaming to simply scanning pictures. Next. It might look something like this: Patrick: 49, tennis pro, poet, chef, looks good, but George, Pulitzer Prize winner, spelunker, yo-yo champ-looks better. Like a kid on an Easter egg hunt, you pick up one brightly colored object and dismiss it just as quickly, thinking something better will come along. This can’t be good

Doctor Love

Dr Joan M, a leading San Francisco psychologist, studies relationships. She recently said many of her clients have more first-dates than they knew what to do with. One peripatetic client met with 90 women in his first year of being newly divorced. He had the classic Clint Eastwood experience and met “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.”  However, once he got past his myopic, “Looking for Barbie,” phase, he got serious, focused and eventually met his true soul mate. It happens.

The good Dr maintains that suddenly single men and women hovering around age 50 want relationships. However, with age, a new requirement has transpired: both sexes have a need for intimacy and concurrent independence. They have quaffed the Kool-Aid and succumbed to, as one woman put it, “A need to be in his arms and then be an arm’s length away.”  The Solution? A healthy dose of compromise and honesty are necessary for any healthy relationship.

Kissing Frogs and Playing Hard to Get

It is your call: do you kiss a few frogs, explore dating at 50 with an open heart and open mind or steadfastly hold out for the perfect Prince Charming / Princess Charisma?

Try this: Open your eyes – and your heart – for a fun and fulfilling relationship with the guy or girl next door. Be available and aware. Finally, look in the mirror: you have to be the person you want to attract.  Ribbit.

San Francisco Dating@50 Examiner, Page Larkin, welcomes your feedback, questions and queries at Page.Larkin@gmail.com .

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Flirting with random acts of kindess – oh, yeah!

“All women are flirts, but some are restrained by shyness, and others by sense”.

Rochefoucauld

George– a real flirt – He is known to  buys bags of Hershey Kisses and says he drops one or two off on tables of interesting women at the library, Peet’s or various cafes- when he is strolling through. George is famous for giving away free kisses and smiles.

Parking Karma Katie always has a pocket of quarters and when she sees the army of parking meter mavens in attack mode, she kindly puts a couple of quarters in each expired meter. Sweet!

Before breakfast, my pal Troyer, always buys two San Francisco Chronicles. He reads one and offers a second copy to any attractive single woman in one of the three cafés he frequents each week. He’s famous for this. Some women love to see a newspaper….others are confused.

Coffee, tea or me? After a month, three times a week, of handing a double latte, to her “Favorite, cute customer with no wedding ring and a ready smile”- Peggy wrote her phone number on the sleeve of his coffee cup.  It worked! They have been dating ever since.

Troyer in San Jose is famous for the “I thought you two were sisters” comment to the mothers of the women he dates. Believe it or not, mothers-of an age- loves this. Big Points.

Eye Contact Eileen in South San Francisco writes that she looks at man, catches his eye and turns away. She looks back and smiles. She says it works every time. Eye contact is an icebreaker and a romantic catalyst.

Mark, the dapper crossing guard on Geary Boulevard, tells most every woman he sees she looks “lovely this morning, ma’am.” Women actually cross the street just to talk to Edward.

Rusty, the flirting waiter at Rigolo in Laurel Village, greets and kids around with every female customer who comes to the small cafe. He is always ready with a compliment and a smile. Needless to say, he’s a very popular guy.

Valerie, the tall redhead at the checkout clerk at the Marina Safeway, a polyglot, greets customers in their respective homeland lingo. People love this and make a beeline to her line. To say she is admired – only begins to describe her life.

Love Story at 80 In The City

Most mornings you can see Henry and Barbara, holding hands, walking up and down the streets in Presidio Heights. He wears a Cal baseball cap and she wears a red Stanford hat. The two octogenarians talk and laugh and Henry frequently picks up newspapers and tosses them up to neighbor’s front doors. The two exude an affection and attraction that most aspire to. Some think it’s good luck to see this darling devoted couple.

All women are flirts, but some are restrained by shyness, and others by sense”. Rochefoucauld

San Francisco Dating@50 Examiner, Page Larkin, welcomes your feedback, questions and queries at page.larkin@gmail.com

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Dear Page Larkin: Foolish Women and Great Guys?

Party_girl

Dear Page

Satuday night, my new guy showed up with a bottle of chilled Procesco, Mel Brooks’  “History of  the World” and two bags of popcorn – one with sea salt and a brown sugar melange, a bag of M&M’s and, admittedly, an impressive fruit tray. And more chocolate. TCHO. He calls me and sends sweet greeting cards every week….I just am not sure about him. What shall I do?
Bossy Pants Petaluma

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 Dear Bossy Pants Petaluma
Don’t spend another minute thinking about this: send ME his number, thanks! A million girls would love to be wooed by a guy that clever and cute and sweet. Get Woke, girlfriend.

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Page, Help!

I am 55, divorced, no kids, employed and  know I am the perfect date – dozens of women have told me that. My problem is so many gals just want  one date, one meal, one bottle of wine and they disappear. They don’t respond to emails, text or calls. What am I doing wrong?

Clarke Able

Dear Clarke,  You do sound like a great date – what you neglect to mention is the conversation, the general feeling, and the level of mutual attraction. Are you both enjoying the meal, is conversation flowing, are you in agreement in most topics, are you both smiling or squirming during the date? These are all clues to the success of the date. Take Note. Good luck.

Love, Page

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Real magic in relationships means an absence of judgment of others.

Wayne Dyer

 

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