That night, he managed to usher her back to BART before it stopped. But on date two, the woman drank just as much, and seemed to conveniently forget the time. Five whiskeys deep, he offered to have her crash at his place. The date had been nothing special, but she had no reasonable way back home.

On the cab ride back, the woman kept apologizing. Pajamas and sleeping arrangements were discussed in a very proper tone. They hadn't even kissed yet.

Although details are hazy, and he's sure he didn't score, Alan does remember getting her into his bed. That, and the moles.

"While we were making out, I kept trying to run my hand down her back and finding all of these moles — really big ones," he says. "I kept trying to work my way around them. It was like a minefield of moles."

In a way, working around the moles was sort of like what desperate S.F. singles seem to be doing all the time — trying, often unsuccessfully, to ignore all the undesirable aspects of their potential partners.

Alan and the woman had a third date a few days later, and the same thing happened. She got too drunk, missed BART (by accident), and asked to stay over. The mole thing was still distracting, but Alan still hoped for sex. Nope.

"There's this leg-pry thing that happens in high school where the guy is trying to get to other bases and the girl snaps her legs shut like a bear trap," he says. "It's all very cute, but adults usually give an excuse for the rejection, like, 'I'm on my period.' I got nothing."

While the "no sex" part seemed atypical, in Alan's experience, this date was pretty much reflective of his experience in San Francisco. "I was always meeting girls that were okay but not superwonderful," he says. "All of the time we spent together involved drinking."

Then again, he says, if he had been dating the right people he'd already be in a relationship. That's what he was after. "It's a challenge to find someone in your league who also has matching qualities," he says. In a city like San Francisco, where many people are transplants, he often gets the feeling he's in an airport. "The only thing you have in common is the bar you're at, and knowing that you just got here and you won't be here much longer."

After that last date, Alan stopped calling the woman. Some connections you don't mind missing.

But sometimes — if you let yourself dare — that person beside you can turn out to be far more interesting than you think.

It had been way too long since Christine, a frisky 29-year-old Mission resident, had gotten laid. She decided to hit up a neighborhood bar, the Argus, which she had been meaning to check out anyway.

Inside, she cozied up next to one of three guys in the bar. He had his face in a book when she ordered a Zinfandel. She tried not to look too interested, but stole furtive looks at his glasses and his muscular arms. He ignored her.

Finally, Christine had an idea. She pushed a candle toward him and smiled.

The guy said thanks, and read for a few more minutes. Christine was ready to give up when the guy put his book down. "So, how's your night?" he said.

They proceeded to chat for what felt like a couple of hours about various things, including qigong, scuba equipment, and the book the guy was reading: Old Man's War, a sci-fi novel about septuagenarians enlisted for an intergalactic battle. He seemed knowledgeable and kind. He was also a bit older. When they got up to have a cigarette, he stood a full head shorter than Christine. Whatev, she thought, three drinks deep.

After another couple of rounds, she began touching his leg, but he seemed lukewarm about the situation. Finally Christine blurted out, "Okay, let's go." When he asked where, she couldn't contain herself: "Your place."

The guy lived just two blocks from the bar. Upon entering his apartment, he pulled Christine aside. "There's something you should know about me," he said, finally — finally! — touching her. "I'm a very dirty man."

They entered the man's bedroom, and Christine was surprised to find herself in a veritable BDSM lair. An industrial-sized lube bottle sat on the nightstand, flanked by a buttplug and a feather. Beneath the mattress, a restraint system peeked out. A silver-sequined cape hung in the closet.

"Well, at least he warned me," she thought.

She spent the night there, and had the best sex of her life.

If your flight gets delayed, help fix the plane.

I was single and working too much," says Chas McFeely, a 40-year-old San Francisco copywriter. Like many creative types in San Francisco, he is the kind of guy who is always dreaming up apps and start-ups and websites. And, like many singles, he was finding that it wasn't so easy to meet the right, smart woman in a city full of them. Bars never worked for him. Online dating was always frustrating. Setups were the best, but they were infrequent.

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Elizabeth frantes
Elizabeth frantes

All I hope is that none of these idiots breed. I know that's too much to ask for. In fact, according to a study I read in the journal Evolution, there is a very, very strong correlation between low IQ in women with early/frequent childbearing. So, unless breeding makes women stupid, it's the dumbest of the dumb who do.


OMGYou are a mental case Frantes. I just saw this on the internet. You are an absolute crackpot. I did a google search on you and found this.

From: elizabeth <>Subject: Re: Why Don't Right To Lifers Support Government Paying 50% of Child Support?Date: Sat, 21 May 2011 12:10:33 -0700 (PDT)Message-ID: <>

"Antiabort females should be gangraped to death.Slowly.

I feel that antiabort males should have their genitals ripped offand forced down their throats, and antiabort females gangraped untildeath."</>


Elizabeth Frantes,Your view points are wacked. Maybe you need to consider a long vacation or get some medical attention. You are just way too far out there. Aren't you the same wacko that said antiabortion women should be raped slowly and to death? I mean come on, seriously. What person in their right mind would ever think of such a sick thing?


I see that Miss Harrell herself hasn't logged onto her OKC profile for a long while. Maybe, she, too, is disturbed about dating in SF.

I Miss "Latin Freeze"
I Miss "Latin Freeze"

25th & South Van Ness is and has always been Norteno territory. If Alejandro was a Norteno, he wouldn't have had a problem going there. In fact, Esta Noche is deep in Sureno territory.

I understand that the gang life doesn't mean much to the SF Weekly, but considering how many Mission youth get killed over it, at least have the decency get the territories right. If you need a fact checker, ask any kid at Mission High.


Wow! This stories are so interesting! I'd like to know more about SFo people's lifestyles

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