I’m coming out of a wine bar in SOMA on a nothing special kinda Friday night. Heavy footsteps echo behind me so I quicken my pace. As I wait for the light to change, I hear a voice:

Him: Filipino women are very beautiful.

Me: That’s nice…if I was Filipino.

Him: Ahh…well…mixed race women as well…

I’m entertained at his fopaux, and let him continue to shove his foot in his mouth.

Him: Are you a racer?

Me: No, I just pretend to be one sometimes, for fun.

Him: Oh well…I was asking because my friend is an Indy 500 racer. I attended this past year and sat in the $10,000 box. I also own property nearby, but I’m renting right now in Walnut Creek because I haven’t found new renters in this economy…I sell real estate for a living, it’s quite lucrative with all the foreign money from other countries.

I hold back the eye-roll moment at the explicit mention of a big number, high-roller lifestyle. My pause in conversation signals to him that he’s slowly drowning. He whips out the big guns:

Him: You know…you’re very beautiful.

Me: Thank You.

It’s difficult to purposely not smile when any slice of bread tells you that you’re beautiful. I know it’s generic, but they’re still magical words — effective when used once and insincere when used repeatedly.

Him: Do you have a boyfriend?

Me: I’m in between boyfriends at the moment.

Him: May I have your number?

Me: Another time.

Him: I sense you’re getting cold feet?

I examine my own breath, as I exhale deeply into the air:

Me: It’s a very cold night.

Him: I respect and understand your decision. It’s been wonderful chatting with you…

Even douchey lifestyle-dropping not-right-for-me bread can be respectful. I had no idea the two could mutually coexist.

It’s kinda interesting that eHarmony.com makes you take a gigantic personality profile test. I think it’s a fabulous idea to know what makes you tick before trying to find your better half. Recently, I had to take a personality test for work and I’ve been reading about myself for the past two weeks non-stop because it’s surprisingly accurate.

Apparently, I’m rare — 2-5% of the population kinda rare. I’m also a natural born leader (i.e. I have bigger balls than you do) with all the suave + charm of a cult leader. But in my defense, the people of Rome loved Julius Caeser! He used his power to make Rome a prosperous, open, and trustworthy place to live — that’s exactly what I do in relationships.

But then I noticed a very odd trend in my personality profile. Of the 10 notable personalities that I fall in line with, only two are women. One is a lesbian, and the other took various stands against her own sex. I’ve been told that I’m intimidating by both boys + girls. It’s because I’m not afraid to bite and most people don’t really want to date someone that intimidates them. So, unless I want to go into the dominatrix business, I’m screwed. Wait. On second thought, I wouldn’t even be screwed properly IF I was a dominatrix because it’s all about keeping the slave an arm’s distance away.

And in case you were wondering, if you’re breaking skin when biting you’re doing it all wrong.

I landed myself a seriously crazy blind date. However, a half-hour before our scheduled coffee date I received an urgent text message: “Call me, please!” It’s never good sign when the first words out of his mouth are: “I’m sorry…” I was being stood up by a boy that had never even met me! He apologized profusely and pushed for rescheduling everything one week later. I accepted because deep down, I believe everyone should be given a second chance.

When he called a few days later for a “getting to know you” phone conversation, I started to believe he had gentlemanly potential. There are several taboo subjects that the majority agrees are “off-limits.” Typically, it’s a good idea to stay away from the heavy hitters: sex, politics, and religion. After cordial pleasantries were exchanged: “How was your weekend?” He launched straight to the meaty stuff: “I believe Americans are a sexually conservative people. In Sweden, it’s common that children talk about their first sexual experience with their parents…”

I thought the topic was an odd choice, but I played along until: “Americans should travel to other countries because they’ve really got it together…and San Francisco isn’t as creatively conscious as…Los Angeles. If you really want to do creative work, you should move to Los Angeles. It’s a socially stifling atmosphere up here in the Bay Area, girls who dress provocatively are labeled as sluts, whores, and hootchie mamas.”

It’s rare that I have to ask this question in the dating process, but I had to whip it out: “Do you LIKE America?!?”

Because not liking America, that’s a dealbreaker.