Are You In The Dating DMZ? How to Avoid Machine Guns and Barbed Wire.
I define the Dating DMZ as the space between where you are and where you want to be. Sometimes the space is wide, and sometimes it's narrow, and oftentimes you'll never know which it is until you're in it. Which is why we need some guidance so as to avoid being killed in there.
The most famous DMZ lies between North and South Korea. I've been there, a couple of times, and it's a pretty darned scary place. The funny thing is that the name is devastatingly misleading. Yes, the space between the two sides is allegedly free of military activity, but the two borders defining the zone are as full of stuff that'll kill you as anywhere on earth. (Short of a Bangkok titty bar.) It's a sleight of hand trick actually designed to divert your attention from the real action, which is the hundreds of mean-eyed dudes with machine guns trained on your bod.
It's a no-man's land, desolate and dangerous, with a disingenuous name.
Dating doesn't inevitably mean a transit of the DDMZ, but it's the rare bird who finds themselves in safe territory all the time. The nature of dating is that it involves risk, like all human activity. Finding and managing the amount of risk we can handle is an individual process; we're all up for challenges in different ways at different times of our lives. I'll give you an example:
I once was acquainted with a guy, back in Australia, who sized up his prospects for sex in an age-old way. He figured that if he asked enough women, he'd eventually get all the trim he wanted. His name was Alistair, and he asked pretty much every woman he met (socially, I hasten to add) if they'd be interested in getting together. He risked rejection in order to exercise his penis....a LOT of rejection.
Years after I first met Alistair, I ran into a friend who knew him better than me, and we discussed his case. Turns out that his success rate was much, much higher than we thought. Around one in ten women took him up on his offer. Maybe that doesn't surprise you - it does surprise me.
Alistair understood the DDMZ because he crossed and re-crossed it so many times. But he never lingered, because he was on his way to the other side, moving through increasingly familiar territory between the place he was prepared to risk being, and returning home. After a while, he became so familiar to sentries on either side, they both treated him like a 'friendly'. After all, everyone knew what he was up to, it wasn't like he kept anything secret. He would have made a great double agent.
The lesson of Alistair, the man who understood the DDMZ better than anyone I know, is to be on your way to the maximum point of risk, or on the way back. He never lingered when he was on a mission. He was either sprinting towards the target he'd chosen, or he was dancing around, changing direction. He decided what he wanted, then figured out a way to get there, and what he was prepared to do before retreating. Remember, too, that retreating is just attacking from a different direction. There is absolutely no harm in retreating, it's information about both your method of attack and your risk level.
Alistair's case is extreme, of course. He didn't use subtlety or finesse, but he knew what he knew about women and about himself. He was unembarrassable, and he knew that he was playing a numbers game. Voila, his DDMZ shrank to almost nothing.
Bottoms Up, Dating Warriors.
wombat@kissnblog.com
The most famous DMZ lies between North and South Korea. I've been there, a couple of times, and it's a pretty darned scary place. The funny thing is that the name is devastatingly misleading. Yes, the space between the two sides is allegedly free of military activity, but the two borders defining the zone are as full of stuff that'll kill you as anywhere on earth. (Short of a Bangkok titty bar.) It's a sleight of hand trick actually designed to divert your attention from the real action, which is the hundreds of mean-eyed dudes with machine guns trained on your bod.
It's a no-man's land, desolate and dangerous, with a disingenuous name.
Dating doesn't inevitably mean a transit of the DDMZ, but it's the rare bird who finds themselves in safe territory all the time. The nature of dating is that it involves risk, like all human activity. Finding and managing the amount of risk we can handle is an individual process; we're all up for challenges in different ways at different times of our lives. I'll give you an example:
I once was acquainted with a guy, back in Australia, who sized up his prospects for sex in an age-old way. He figured that if he asked enough women, he'd eventually get all the trim he wanted. His name was Alistair, and he asked pretty much every woman he met (socially, I hasten to add) if they'd be interested in getting together. He risked rejection in order to exercise his penis....a LOT of rejection.
Years after I first met Alistair, I ran into a friend who knew him better than me, and we discussed his case. Turns out that his success rate was much, much higher than we thought. Around one in ten women took him up on his offer. Maybe that doesn't surprise you - it does surprise me.
Alistair understood the DDMZ because he crossed and re-crossed it so many times. But he never lingered, because he was on his way to the other side, moving through increasingly familiar territory between the place he was prepared to risk being, and returning home. After a while, he became so familiar to sentries on either side, they both treated him like a 'friendly'. After all, everyone knew what he was up to, it wasn't like he kept anything secret. He would have made a great double agent.
The lesson of Alistair, the man who understood the DDMZ better than anyone I know, is to be on your way to the maximum point of risk, or on the way back. He never lingered when he was on a mission. He was either sprinting towards the target he'd chosen, or he was dancing around, changing direction. He decided what he wanted, then figured out a way to get there, and what he was prepared to do before retreating. Remember, too, that retreating is just attacking from a different direction. There is absolutely no harm in retreating, it's information about both your method of attack and your risk level.
Alistair's case is extreme, of course. He didn't use subtlety or finesse, but he knew what he knew about women and about himself. He was unembarrassable, and he knew that he was playing a numbers game. Voila, his DDMZ shrank to almost nothing.
Bottoms Up, Dating Warriors.
wombat@kissnblog.com
6 comments:
Love this metaphor. And the odds game reminds me of my brother's approach when he was single. While out with friends at a bar, he'd ask about 10 women over the course of the night for their number. He'd usually get one. But his friends didn't get any because they were too chicken to ask.
I have no idea what the equivalent approach would be for women, btw. (Post-divorce experience has confirmed my friends' reports that the odds of finding someone remain vastly increased if the guy is the aggressor.)
Your bracketed aside there will remain the most likely method to find someone, Miss L.
I know that we men are all hip to equality of the chase and all...yeah, only on blogs. IRL we are way more comfortable figuring our own way to Rapunzel's Castle.
Cool bro you've got there. I like his style.
Yeah, my brother is pretty cool. And if I were male, I'd definitely take his approach (and be tempted to take Alistair's). Being passive does not agree with me, but I'm getting better at it; the positive results help reinforce it. Still sucks, though.
I have always been a quality over quantity kind of person.
Besides, ultimately the girl picks the guy, not the other way around.
The guy has to knock on her door, but it's up to her to let him in or not.
Once in a while the polarity reverses, but not often enough to be considered a viable method.
I have a good acquaintance in Milwaukee. He is about 5' 8" tall and even when married would bang anything that is female. Body type, looks, personality, socio-economic level.. it didn't matter. His goal was to bang out 7 different ladies in 7 consecutive nights. By the time I knew him, his record was 6 different girls in 7 nights. I guess he just couldn't find that elusive 'Wisconsin Round Heeled Cock Dauber' when it counted.
Bottom's up, bird watchers!
Ah, but I think you are very quickly finding your feet, Miss Licious. Practice makes perfect...and you're getting out there, which is the most important factor.
Women who think they'll find someone while they sit at home with a Lean Cuisine and a yoghurt just don't get it.
Suddenly I feel the urge to adopt ornithology as a hobby, Mr Nights.
What's up with that?
Thanks, Wombat. I never was one to sit home. What's taken a really long time is learning to sit back and wait a bit, rather than pursuing. Skittish kittens is still what I think of in this space. :-) Would that it were not so, but I'm adapting.
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