She was Working, I Thought I was on a Date (LONG)

Journal GMontag's Journal: She was Working, I Thought I was on a Date (LONG) 21

Journal by GMontag on Monday June 26, 2006 @07:36AM

She was Working, I Thought I was on a Date
The New Republic, Home of the Finest Courtesans. View the Fisking here.

Penn Gillette does not believe in G_d or coincidences. I believe in both, the latter on rare occasion. This is how I, unknowingly, bacame a story in The New Republic and the "Hydrogen Powered Jeep" came to the rescue.

Warning: this is a super-long post.
No, I was never notified by The New Republic that I was a subject of an article even thought I was in e-mail contact with the author until the article was posted. Comments can be made on the article at The New Republic, registration required.

Background

Recently I have been a member of a Conservative dating website. It is interesting. Have an honest profile posted but I have not used it much. As some of you know, most of the women in my life have been older than me. Even Plaintiff is two years older than me. Some odd events changed that, for a little while.

If you are already bored, skip to the end, and then look back at the details.

I had my preferences set for a *little* younger than me, plus a lot older than me. Was not seeing much to be interested in and the ladies I was interested in did not seem too interested in me.

The oddness begins

Around March or so a very pretty Flight Attendant named Christy, 25 years old, in San Francisco sent me a "smile" emoticon. Checked her profile, too far away for me. A few weeks later she sent me another, so I e-mailed her with a hello and asked her if she ever traveled to the DC area. She responded that she liked my "traditional" values and she travels to Reagan National on a regular basis.

I laughed at the "traditional values" business and said that I have not heard that much. My profile, on the site, had things like

"I do not believe that the government should have any role in marriage. I do not think that homosexual acts are immoral, it is just the male acts that I can do without. Capital punishment: once the cuffs are on the suspect had better not be a threat to anybody any more. The government has enough power already and they don't need to have power over life and death after the emergency has passed."

'Socially liberial because I DON'T care' is in there someplace too.

In my experience this is kind of odd. It is usually me and my fellow guys who barely read the profile and fire off an introduction, of some sort.

Responded that I have "small L libertarian" ideas.

Guess she finally read the actual words in my profile. Maybe she just made an assumption that every guy listed here has some fictional set of "traditional values" and applied them to me? No telling, not enough info to make a conclusion, but she stopped responding right before the following two encounters developed.

Trolling, in the fishing sort of way

I began thinking about the younger women. Plenty of mature younger ones out there, so I dropped my lower age limit down to around my son's age. Yea, creepy, but he is so old now as to not be an issue for me. At least, so I thought.

Shot out a volley of about a dozen messages to younger women who had acceptable profiles. A 32 year old responded back to a coffee invitation. She had cute pictures, was an aspiring writer who worked retail and responded wanting to meet. I also asked her if her pictures were recent (they looked old) and she said they were a little old, she had a "few extra pounds" and hoped that was okay. I said fine, we met on a nice DC day.

Well, in her case "a few extra pounds" were approximately a 100% mass increase since her last photo, but she was still "cute" in an un-tucked button-down and jeans.

Nice conversation, but a little snooty about her "three languages" background. Some odd comments, to my ear anyway, about us both using Zippos and her friends calling her "butch" for having one. Liked the patina of my Zippo and thought it was old. Handed it to her "see how light it feels?". "Yes! Why is that?" "It is titanium."

She likes Mario Batali, I can't stand him and she began to give me Italian lessons. I began subtly checking out the attractive women walking by.

Her exit card: "I need to go make dinner for my neighbors, we have a little gathering every weekend, I make pasta." Humm, never heard of that before, maybe a DC thing, but was fine as I was not that into her anyway.

Was still nice enough to e-mail her afterwards and invite for another chat. Perhaps she was just nervous or whatever. She responded that she did not think we were a good match and that was good enough for me.

Shortly after that I spied an interesting woman recently graduated from Yale. Right under her lack-of-a-photo was Age: 22. My age is directly under my photo: 44. A recent date (not from a web site) said I need a new picture because that one makes me look old. The last time I had dated a 22 year old was about 24 years prior to e-mailing her.

"I grew up listening to Rush and G. Gordon Liddy in Virginia, escaped Yale (mostly) ideologically intact"

Sounded nice, I listened to them with my son a lot and he is her age. Son is still a big Liddy fan as am I, but I can't get his station in my office now.

Slender, blue eyes, red hair, 5' 2".

Well, not a deal breaker, but the other stuff sounds good:

Artistic /Music/writer, occasional drinker, non smoker, spiritual not religious, Conservative, disagrees that sex outside of marriage is immoral, agrees that abortion is immoral, etc.

Near deal-breaker was "Pornography is immoral and harmful". She says it is I say it is not and I have Gigs and Gigs to prove it. Guess I won't have to do the giant "sharing upload download" if this goes anywhere . . . Note to self, don't bring up porn or women-in-the-arts (half way down page).

Similar enough periodicals choices:

Me: National Review, Guns & Ammo, The Economist, Wired

Her: The Weekly Standard, among others. Secret weakness (I know, I know) for Vanity Fair ...

Close enough, as I was reading G&A when I signed up, but had already settled on the concealed carry pistol that I wanted and, silly me, never changed my profile. Actually, by the time I contacted 22-year-old-writer--profile-without-a-picture the only periodicals that I was reading were MOPAR related for the 1972 Dodge Charger restoration project I began in February. Still have not changed that part.

Perhaps she reads Hitchens? Made note to self to bring it up on date, if we have one.

Shot her the same coffee invitation and a few days later she responded liking my Libertarian values, interested in shooting and would be interested in coffee or a martini (back of head: is this an upsize or something?) in DC.

Responded that I am a "small L libertarian" and usually vote Republican.

Negations that never end, until someone ends them

We began arranging a date just before the Mother's Day weekend and through the time my son walked for graduation from his dual major program. He was professionally published before graduation in a technical journal of his field. I was feeling pretty darn proud, but thought it best to keep these details mostly to myself when exchanging mail with this young woman. Hard not to brag about your child. When I was a bit younger than her, before I got married, I had met quite a few women close to my current age that I found very attractive and I did not mind them speaking of their children, who were my then-age and older, in the slightest. Thought it best not to project that attitude onto a stranger.

She wanted to meet 19 May, but I had late night plans, would rather do a completely clear night: offered 20 or 21 May. Asked about learning to shoot and something came up about Martinis. Had not had martinis in a while, sounded "good" and will see about shooting if we like what we see on the date. Unstated-to-her-thought: I sure as heck was not going to drive to DC to pick up 22-year-old-writer--profile-without-a-picture (later to find out no vehicle either), drive back to VA, get my shotguns, drive an hour to the range, run her through the $25 shooting class, shoot, have some beers, drop the shotguns at my place in VA and drive her back home.

She asked more about the shooting class, told her about the required class (that range's requirement) and gave her where to Google it and it was only on weekends.

She first set the martini date for the 21st, a Sunday, but "forgot" about a friend's graduation, so we moved it up to the 19th again, after work. Was okay with me and I had other plans at 10 PM, thus an "exit card" for the possible date with the 22-year-old-writer--profile-without-a-picture. I made some chatter about Zola's vs. The Capital Grille, offered her the opportunity to select another place and she selected The Capital Grille.

Last moment details, I had to e-mail her to see if she was actually showing up and she sprang her "exit card" too: making dinner for roommates, may need to leave at 8:00. Humm, heard that before. Perhaps it is spreading through dating books or something? Maybe they are roommates or coworkers?

Also exchanged detailed descriptions of what we were wearing. Me: white button-down with blue lettering, khakis, boots; her: black suit, magenta top. Had to find this out at the last moment because late in the day she had still not verified that she was even appearing and I had to mail her through the site. Had already sent her my private e-mail and cell number in case she was delayed. She planned to arrive before 6:30 PM, I was a little ahead of that.

Headed back home after work, changed from "casual Friday" work boots to Tony Llama Nubuck boots (a sort-of tan suede). Glanced at suits in closet and thought of changing into one of the custom suits I usually wear to work, like I am pictured wearing in profile, along with custom shirt (same tailor) and was about to debate cufflinks, then thought better: 22-year-old-writer--profile-without-a-picture. Plus, I did not think I would be able to contact her early enough before she left to assure she got the change. She is a writer, not a bounty hunter. If we have a second date I will try to make it on a non-casual day. Did switch to the 1963 Bulova Accutron Astronaut watch.

DC Society is just like McDonald's

Arrived just before 6:00 and went through the martini ordering "ritual" that the people downtown find so important and I had a little time for some self-entertaining social engineering: Ordering martinis around here is like old-school ordering at McDonald's (before meals were numbered). You order the burger, fries then drink and if you have the time and want some fun you switch up the order of your order.

"Dirty martini"

How would you like that?

"Dirty"

What kind of martini?

"Dirty"

What brand?

"Rail"

hottie 6' blonde slender bartender sighs (does anybody say "barmaid" any more?)

Gin?

"Yes, a dry, gin martini, dirty and shaken please."

Beefeater okay?

"Yes"

Settled in for the wait and it started sinking in that this date is my son's age. Well, she knows my age, it is right there under my picture. She knows he just graduated from college, that is in the paragraph right next to my picture.

Knocked down first martini in a short while, ordered another. Noticed that this Capital Grille was slightly different than the one in Tyson's Corner with more suits and fewer button-downs, but no matter, had a nice little chat with the ladies to my left and they left their purses on the spare chair to save it for my date. They were engaged with the male bartender about a smoke discussion and his complaint about cigar smoke getting into the wine bottles. Frankly. they did not like smoke, so I tried to keep the ashtray away from them and they made no objections. BTW, this has been the only time, before or after, that I was the only one in a button-down in that bar, and on a recent Wednesday was almost the only suit in the place.

Tried to get my smoking in before she got there. She does not smoke and not sure if she will be offended. Turned out she did not mind at all. Her only objection was her singing voice, so she does not smoke. I tried to keep it down throughout the date anyway.

Just over half way through the second martini 6:30 strikes and no date. Began looking toward door a little too much and the half-my-age thing popping up in my head a little. About 6:40 a lovely 5' 2", but carried herself much taller, red/brown/multi-highlight big-haired (some call it Jersey hair/Maryland hair/trailer park hair/big-ass hair), not my normal like, but looked good on her and was NOT like this) woman strides in, fantastic looking to my eye, does not look 22, but has that 'can't tell her age' look.

Eve recognized me immediatly, we greeted, the nice ladies to my left moved their stuff and we settled in for our chat. She was wearing a magenta bandeau, lycra I think, from her e-mail. Black suit, I was expecting a skirt and heels, but it was pants, something like a Billie-Jean King suit, and boots. I noticed her boots, not really because they were boots, but because they were brown, low-heel fashion boots. I said "nice boots", she looked at mine and said they were nice too. She did look great, somewhat like Kari Byron from Myth Busters and great looking women can look great in anything.

Guessed magazine folks just dressed a little differently, not unlike like those CNN people I meet in Crystal City, no matter how I attempt to avoid them. I remember having the impression that she was trying to look more mature. Not fair to assign that motovation, was just the impression at the moment.

She went into a story about a cobbler problem in her neighborhood. For some reason it seemed so important for her to include his race (bordering on racist without an overt slur), then I brought up my great cobbler in Crystal City.

I should not have, but keeping with the theme I did bring up the races of the two Crystal City cobblers and the one I use is Asian.

She knew one of the bars not far from my cobbler, but not much else about the area. I knew nothing about her neighborhood.

Interesting banter

Eve told me that she worked for The New Republic, and then began something that sounded like a canned apology for the Left-wing magazine, when it began, how it evolved, etc. I said I had read some good articles online there. Good ideas are good ideas.

I had completly forgotten that I stopped paying attention to them after the Stephen Glass episode. Little did I know . . .

She then insisted that she was leaving there soon and was going to The Weekly Standard and ran down a short list of people there her family knows. I mentioned that I had been a subscriber of The National Review in the past. Left out that I sort of like Barnes and Kristol, but not enough to hunt down any of ther writings. I prefer Buckley and the rest at The National Review . Also left out that I had read The New Republic the first time through the accident of a typo looking for The National Review , but it was in-fact a good typo and I saw some good stories.

Eve also mentioned that she liked historical novels and I asked "you mean like William F. Buckley writes?" and she looked at me like she was unaware of his novels, like Getting it Right . I was expecting her to follow with a Gore Vidal novel, but she did not mention anything she had read. (I doubt that I would have brough up Buckley calling Vidal a "queer" on live television, at least not on this date)

An amazing jabber of tangents ensued. Short break while she went through the McDonald's martini ordering checklist for a Manhattan (ordered like a pro), then back to the chat. It did not matter what point either of us had, the other had something related to add. Sounded great to me and the age difference jitters disappeared without notice.

The banter slowly began to change, not in a horrible way . . .

I brought up some of the details from her profile, like her reading Vanity Fair and getting to read Hitchens on a regular basis. She looked surprised when I mentioned that he was still a Leftist and has always been anti-abortion as he said in an interview he was in with William F. Buckley, Jr. He is a good bright Leftist, but he is getting a bad rap now by his ex-friends. She said she had met Buckley someplace and that when she met Hitchens he was drunk, really drunk.

Note: serious error on my part as Hitchens is a Liberal, not a Leftist, following the definitions I tend to use from David Horowitz. I mentioned my usage to Eve at the time too.

Was about to bring up meeting G. Gordon Liddy several times and having him autograph books to my son, even bringing my son to the studio to meet Mr. Liddy in person . . . But they are the same age and I am not sure if she is even a day older than him or not. Did not want to alienate her over something like that on the first date. She did not seem that way, but . . .

Bring up one of Liddy's frequent guests! "It really annoys me that so many people around here brag about reading Thomas Sowell and being Conservatives, but they don't have a clue about Economics and advocate Leftist Economic policies." Nothing, the shoulders that had squared towards me, turn back to bar.

Mentioned George Orwell, was going to try to work in his phrase "Right Wing Communists", but a new tangent was formed when she said she had never read him (tried not to let jaw drop, shut off mouth before saying his real name, Eric Arthur Blair, and starting another tangent). Mentioned Homage to Catalonia as a great work of his, wanted to bring up Not Counting Niggers (try reading it before jerking your knee, Eisenstein) as a good essay too, but not sure how loud I was at the time as I was in the heart of the dim-of-wit "intellectual" set on the wrong-side-of-the-river, not knowing who the people right behind me were.

I did mention my son briefly, when mentioning we had both read Cuckoo's Egg by Cliff Stoll and neither of us could put it down. She wasn't familiar with that and mentioned Cuckoo's Nest, offering me an opening for my IMDB listing for Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas , but I passed and she did not have a reaction to my mentioning my son.

Trying to get over to something different, I mentioned how the environmentalists were so predictable, as if scripted, leading into the famous "Hydrogen Powered Jeep" story. She perked up for a moment: "you drive a hybrid?" Umm, NO, okay, how much chemistry did you have? Here is the deal, you know heptane and octane, hydrocarbons contain hydrogen and carbon? They make gasoline? But some people will grasp at anything "green"? Her eyes get glazy as I begin to draw molecules on the bar with my finger . . . next topic.

I truly thought that she "got it" after I told her it was NOT a "hybrid" (closest thing to a "whistle" on the date) and told her it was poking fun at knee-jerk "Environmentalists." My son's lovely girlfriend, same age as Eve, got this with much less of an explaination, but she is not a reporter, she is in law school.

I have forgotten if I was using the 1972 Dodge Rallye Charger or the 1996 Jeep Cherokee Sport as the example, but no matter, it was a joke that only the dimmest do not get.

Eve excused herself to the bathroom. I was watching the time and knew she needed to be going, per her e-mail. Got out the only "clean" business card I had on me (thought and forgot about "reloading" before heading out from home) and asked for the check.

Eve returned and I gave her my card, with cell number. Was certainly not the same firm on the card as on the casual-Friday-nice-giveaway "Port Authority" brand button-down I was wearing. Of course, she asked me for another card for her info because her magazine did not issue cards (first I ever heard of that). So I grabbed a napkin and gave her a pen. Was quite surprised that she was right handed as she jotted down her name, Eve Fairbanks, a cell number (strikes through the 7s but not the 0s just like me), and work e-mail. Me: "Fairbanks? Just like that town in Alaska? My dad was there for a while in the Army." She offered to pay for the one martini she had too, but I said it was not necessary.

Broke out another time tested, almost memorized story: "When I first moved here, the Kinko's back home had self-service scanners and treated the customers like normal people, here they treated everybody like idiots who could not possibly figure out a scanner and charged $9.00 per image." Another blue-eyed-deer-in-headlights-stare . . . "really?" ((updated version of that)) Decided to skip mentioning that happened in 1994.

BTW, that story lead to my saying "DC is the meat locker of the nation's common sense," but I did not use that quote on the date.

"Very cool that you met Buckley, I used to watch him every week on PBS. Back in the day the only place to see a Conservative was on PBS . . ." Her: "really? That is hard to imagine."

At some point she mentioned the french or the irish. Me: "You speak of them as if they were human." She giggled at that.

I had to "pause" her to calculate the tip. I am kind of picky about that, want to tip well but not crazy. Used the term "phobia" in exaggeration: "You don't have phobias do you? My brother does and . . ."

"No, Eve, I was exaggerating. Just want to leave a good, proper tip and do not want to be known as a bad tipper." Omitted that I may already be known there as a bad patron per the ordering story above and I was adding more than usual. Note to the guys: don't play silly games like that in front of your date, do them before she arrives.

We started the hike back to the METRO. Asked her about Belgium, from her profile, she said it was dirty; "so I can stay here and meet Belgians without the dirt?" she laughed at that. Somewhat nervously asked her if she had lied about her age on the site, she looks and acts more mature than the age posted. "They have our ages on there?"

Seems that twenty-something Flight Attendants are not the only women who fail to read . . .

She spotted the METRO station before I did and I mentioned I had been at a demonstration last September right where we were standing. Actually, counter demonstration against the anti-America crowd. She gave a surprised look. Did not mention that is where I met that woman from another post.

As we parted to our trains I asked if she wanted to go shooting over the weekend, but she said she was going to be singing on a sailboat of some friends. Oh well. Off to the bikini contest at Bailey's across the street from my condo and it was crowded, loud and annoying. Was home before midnight. The best part of my evening was at the Capital Grille with my charming date.

[added at demand from a friend "why did you ask her out again"]
I had left with a great impression. She was well mannereed, mature-acting, seemed very bright, charming and very pretty. Very pretty is an understatement. Most of the guys I know might not find her that attractive, but I certainly did. It goes beyond physical (which was great), into manner.

Certainly there were things we talked about that she was not familiar with, but I thought there were many things she knows that I can learn.

Just because she had not read the same people as I meant nothing, at least she was familiar with them. I thought her profile said she read Tom Wolfe. I have only read one of his books, but I make it a point to watch him speak whenever I find out he will be on TV.
[/added at demand from a friend "why did you ask her out again"]

I did call to see if she got home okay and she did not return my call. The next day I got an e-mail from her mentioning the pasta dinner she made for her roommates and she woke with a sinus infection.

Googled her name and found several of her articles, first one was about how Google was associating her name with things her mom did not approve of, but supposedly she was not involved in. I really liked her writing too and sent her a couple of e-mails about that along with links to this journal and my other one, with no response from her on the compliments nor any comment on my writing. Pretty odd, thought she was interested on the date, but that lack of reaction did not fit. Noticed the stupid things people said about her writing and commented on that, same deal, no reply. One guy went off about an award winning article she wrote while at Yale, that he was mentioned in, spouting about her being a "wealthy Skull & Bones" member for about three paragraphs before he got to any point about her writing, and it was not a real point. No response to that either, but noticed that her article mentioned writing just to write, not unlike I do when I toss these sloppy posts up in my journal. In her case, it was people tossing manuscripts at The Atlantic Monthly. Doubted that was a true interest of hers, but it was encouraging. Noted that people were also commenting on her opinions as being "Right-Wing". Mentioned how much better looking she was in person than the pictures of her in google images too. No comment. Asked her out to dinner at my place. Got a reaction on that.

Next date negotiations do not last forever

Somewhere in all of this I invited her again to go shooting. Somehow she thought this could be accomplished on an early afternoon during the week. Was getting puzzled as to what sort of schedule she thought people with jobs supporting the government have, but here is a clue: the same hours as the government.

We made another date for a Wednesday, but she could not make it (the first in a series of last moment changes) and the rescheduling without a location, below, followed.

Looked back at her profile to refresh memory. She had posted a picture, finally. It was her by an overturned sailboat and she looked like a child. Began wondering just what kind of guys she was actually looking for. Then again, the pictures of her on Google Images are nowhere near as good looking as she actually is, but was wondering what was up anyway. Somehow that reminded me to buy shop manuals and other items for the Charger project, but I have no idea why.

She had already forgotten which area I lived in, or did not pay attention to the e-mail I sent her about dinner (meatball sandwitches, wine and salad) and said it was too hard to get to Pentagon City, could we meet in Rosslyn and is Pentagon City on the Blue (METRO) line?

Well, I live in Crystal City and all three of these places are on the Blue line. Rosslyn is just two stops away from Pentagon City and one thing every person in this area has access to is a METRO map. Rosslyn is about half way between me and Georgetown (home to a funky bourbon bar ), nowhere near half-way between me and where she said she lived. Looks like my place is a little too personal for her at this point. Another odd thing compared to the women I am used to, when they are interested in me at all. Bonus: I don't have to clean up.

I suggest The Watergate for drinks and dinner. She cancels at 5:00, by phone (her mother's name came up on the CID, but I recognized the number and last name) to my home phone (as I requested) after I e-mailed her to ask if she was still showing up, and says she got badly sunburned sailing over the weekend. Odd because she is very fair skinned and sailing it is supposed to be something she does a lot, to the extent of telling me some time earlier that she was not available on weekends because of sailing. Also, by that point, she had three phone numbers and three e-mail addresses for me too. Listening to her on the phone I was thinking, "who is this girl and why is she using the voice of the woman I was out with a few says ago?" She said she wanted to do something more "chill" than the Watergate and could go out the next day.

Attempted, without success, to figure out what is more "chill" than: dinner on a condo balcony or drinks and dinner in an almost always empty location.

I e-mailed her later with Ruby Tuesday at Rosslyn or Union 16 near 16 and U . . .

Reevaluate profile

Went back through my profile, added some details I noticed in several of the local women's profiles, including Eve's, like Gravelly Point Park, a place I hike through almost daily, but I had only mentioned by the bike trail that goes through it. Discovered that a quite unflattering picture of me is up on Rush's website in the "Club G'itmo" section, added a comment about that, plus the gatherings at Walter Reed for the troops every Friday night that I noticed in the profile of a pretty Protest Warrior gal.

Umm, yea, right, just skip it

Another last moment round of rescheduling. After e-mailing her before leaving work she finally responds that Union 16 was too inconvenient for me (not her, me) and could we meet next Monday? "No, today is good for me and Union 16 is fine." She says she is still sunburned, going home to bed.

I went back out by myself, and then wrote her and said to just skip it. She responded with Sunday instead of Monday and I responded with a polite, long, stupid, rambling (four beers worth anyway) mail about the issue being her schedule, not mine. She knew how to contact me if she was actually available sometime. Rescheduling the same date through three weeks and no agreement on location is more than enough for me. Side note: I had already been out with more women I met in person since meeting Eve than I had been out with from the website during my whole membership. Nothing worthy of a journal entry though and the big difference was: Eve was the first woman in quite a while that I even wanted to ask out again and I was very disappointed that we did not go out again.

Wondered the whole time if she was involved and just trying to see other people, seriously busy with something she was not sharing, or some other reason for the odd behavior. One thought, but it was the smallest one, was that she was writing some sort of article, but I dismissed that quickly.

No more interest in going out, but she is a very good writer, so I thought.

Good writing

I kept reading her articles. We exchanged e-mail about once a week, for a very short set of weeks, about a Darfur article that she wrote in The Examiner, and a silly editor's response. Asked her if he had "camel eyes" but she never addressed that comment. After a couple of weeks of that topic, I got a note (only a portion quoted) in response to my recent journal entry about Vietnam:

". . . very funny and well done -- so much so that I thought, all the way through "neighboring puppet-states," that you were for real! I've a more general note for you, as well. I've really appreciated your notes on my Examiner columns and stupid editor, and, as I already said, I sincerely enjoyed going out with you at Capital Grille. I think you're a stand-up man, and a lot of fun. But I don't think it's a good idea for us to keep in touch, given the circumstances in which I signed up for the site -- I was commissioned by the editors of my magazine to write a story on it. So as I think about that, I now don't feel right keeping in touch, though I wish it were otherwise.

Nevertheless: please do know that I was never pretending to be someone or something other than who I am when I went out and chatted with you. Take care of yourself, . . ., and I wish you the best. "

I followed up asking if she only went out with me to write an article and Eve insisted that she really did want to meet me, without addressing why. Odd, that we could not continue e-mailing long after I stopped asking her out. Ambiguity as a qualifier, interesting and suspicion raising. Had I unknowingly been out with a courtesan?

Fired off e-mails to the editors requesting my personal information be kept out of any article I was a subject in. I was assured by the courtesan that I would not be identified and she also tried to say she did meet me because she was interested in meeting me. "No, *I* was on a date, you were writing an article." and I was never informed that I would appear in an article.

Notified the match site what happened and posted an alert in a forum.

One or two days later the courtesan's article was published and I was notified through Google Alerts: Mr. Right in The New Republic. You can get to it without subscription by going to this URL and clicking on the "Mr. Right" link at: http://news.google.com/news?hl=en&ned=us&q=eve+fairbanks (remove the space)

Use a good popup blocker.

Or just hit this guy's cached blog for a freebie copy.

Non-fiction without facts?

The concise rebuttal Rambling version here:

NONE of my vehicles are a hybrid! That is what prompted me to write something before even going back and finding all of the other nonsense in the story. It also kept me laughing long enough as to not have gotten mad, like every friend of mine who read the article did.

I was never informed that I was a subject in an article. The closest to this is in the quoted text above from the courtesan.

The Fisking is here

Perhaps the "young Southern lawyer", without a Southern accent actually was Stephen Glass?

For some time I thought that she was a great opinion writer, but my experience with her makes me question any first-person fact that she writes and there is no telling if an poinion that she expresses is actually hers. I should have been critical of the way she described others before, but was not quite paying attention.

The closest thing to "snotty" I saw was this and it was quite a while after I started writing this journal entry. No idea if it actually is by Eve.

Look, assface, let's not lose sight of the more important point here: Nothing can redeem your painful, derivative hipster humor, which is the unholy love child of $200 vintage tweeds and pitchforkmedia.com. If you like punk, pianos, and honestly surprising music, you'll like Panda Park. (Southern) --Eve Fairbanks

Disappointed that I did not try to kiss when we parted. Not so disappointed now.

Eve Fairbanks also writes for The Examiner

Eve Fairbanks: Internet Journalist Dartboard is one of the best write-ups I have seen. Seems Erick "gets it."

You're not the ogre I expected is another clueful post. He says some things that I decided to skip in my journal.

Eve Fairbanks also writes for The Examiner

Note: the "Hydrogen Powered Jeep" story has numerous intentional misspellings, but I forgot why I added more than my natural amount. Other related links: Ivy League Sense
Do you work for the ACLU?
Updated saying
$87 worth of hydrogen for the hybrid Charger
Ethics at The New Republic? Remembering Stephen Glass . . .
Instapundit Glenn Reynolds has the Work/Date Story Now
Book Review: "Getting It Right" by William F. Buckley, Jr.

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