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My last post was on why dating in SF sucks – from the hunting standpoint.
This one is on why dating itself – the act of going out on a date, is fabulous.
I’ve mentioned before that I found (and, in fact, find still) this city very difficult. I love a challenge – but to me, San Francisco is cold, impersonal, angry, kinda dirty, and cynical – even as it’s wrapped in rainbows (no flag allusion) and fir trees and whale-saving and tolerance. It turns out that finding someone with whom to share this city – or more to the point – finding someone who will share his version of the city with you – is essential to understanding and enjoying San Francisco.
This service can be provided by good friends, of course, but in the interest of creating a thematic arc, I’m going to focus on Dating in the City.
Compared to Los Angeles (which I still love dearly), SF dating is a snap: no designated driver concessions, no gas pump price shock just trying to get to your beloved’s house, no getting stuck in what turns out to be a boring part of town. North Beach not so hot tonight? No problem, a few dollars Muni-money or cab fare later and presto – you’re on the Mission, or the Marina, or wherever. Everyone needs a guide – someone willing to experiment – someone who has experimented who can nix Bar A and lead you to Bar X – hidden up an alley or tucked in a quiet hotel.
Dating in SF gets you to the best East German restaurant, to see the Buffalo in Golden Gate Park, to quiet North Beach street corners; from super fancy high cuisine to super good tamales. It’s kissing in the Sunset. It’s strolling Union Square.
The danger, of course, is that what starts as sharing a city with a person, turns into sharing the person with the city – until the two are so entwined that the bison and the street corner and the tamales are never quite the same again.
San Francisco on its own isn’t really much. If you can find the right set of eyes, however . . . . it’s – to be corny – magic.

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