Pattern Recognition

Sometimes I look up from whatever it is I'm doing at that exact moment and I realize how I've been in this exact spot before. Sometimes that's good. Sometimes, like tonight, I feel like an ass.

See, tonight I realized that I was sitting at a table enjoying dinner and a drink with a particularly cute Jewish girl at the very same table that I had done the same thing with a completely different particularly cute Jewish girl. Two weeks ago, on a different date, the same thing happened. I swear, my couch hasn't seen this much action since it was still a cow. This is starting to feel like a rut that I don't want to be in.

I keep asking myself: what's the deal? Is this city that small that there are only a handful of good places to go and I've been to all of them? Or am I turning into the Pet Shop Boys of the dating scene with a magic formula for number one hit after number one hit? I've been on a good run lately and am, as a friend recently said, "saturated with women". A nice feeling after what some might call a long drought. But am I turning into that guy? No one likes that guy. Especially after you find out you were the last in a long line of 'firsts'.

For now, I'm going to go with the small city/few cool places answer. And I'm going to make an effort to strike further afield and put the gin back in original, as we used to say back when drinking gin was what we did when we weren't too busy keepin' it real.

On another note, what's with the "but will your respect me in the morning" question? That's the second time I've recently been asked that. If I wasn't going to respect you in the morning (or later this evening, or whatever), then I wouldn't be able to respect myself. It takes two to make the beast-with-two-backs, no? Maybe I just missed that day of class when they taught us why it was okay to do everything right up to actually ripping off each other's clothes and going for the out of the park home run. Sure, sex is wonderful and, when it's shared between consenting adults, a very intimate and personal moment. But is it really all that? Or am I just another jaded, post-consumerist, over-marketed, cynic?