Dear Dategirl,

The presumption made by you and most women’s magazines is that women are smart and enlightened beings and men are sadly lacking in these attributes. Here’s the facts: Most men and women are roughly the same. Average. As Voltaire stated: The masses are asses. All you average people deserve each other. Most men and women (especially in the U.S.) are mainly interested in sports, shopping, and stupid television shows. Most women want to believe that they are witty and interesting conversationalists, but I can assure you they are not. I find it entertaining to listen in on women’s conversations while walking around Green Lake. Mostly they go on and on about the most inane things and quite often at the same time while not really listening to each other (I’m referring to mature women and not teenage girls).

Kranky Kevin

Dearest Kranky Kev,

What a sad and lonely life you must lead way up there—floating far, far above the heads of us dim-witted average folk. But loneliness is the curse of the overly enlightened, isn’t it? At least you’re in good company! I’m sorry my gender has disappointed you with its vapidity and generally insipid nature. On behalf of all of my sisters, I apologize and promise to try to do better in the future. In closing, I’d like to thank you for sacrificing valuable time you could’ve spent deep in existential pondering in order that you might share a few precious gems of your wisdom with us.

Hi there,

I am writing primarily to see if you would like to see what going out with a nice guy is like. I am college educated (but not pretentious about it), I have a good job that I like (two, in fact), don’t live with my parents, and manage to bathe pretty regularly. I have no evil exes, no children, don’t hate women, and am pretty happy with myself all around. I realize that asking for a date via e-mail is pretty strange, but you can certainly do worse than me.

You are always telling us that you consistently date the wrong guys, so what have you got to lose? If your column is actually written by an average, overweight male, then disregard this letter.

A Quiet Fan

Hello my lovely readers (exception: Kevin),

Until I received this letter, I must confess that I was beginning to wonder about the intelligence level of the male population. I frequently get propositions like this one—though they’re usually far lewder. (To those of you who’ve been brave enough to send nude photos along with your letters—me, my girl friends, and certain boy friends salute you!) I’m printing AQF’s way-sweet note because it addresses something I’ve been wondering about since I got my first offer: What in the hell are you guys thinking? You don’t know me from Eve! This guy is right—for all you know I’m some tired old tranny masquerading as a broad. Or I could be a cannibalistic female serial killer prowling for fresh meat! You don’t know, and still you send me photos, phone numbers, and home addresses! (OK, I’m neither, but you’re gonna have to trust me on that—and in this day and age, how can you trust anyone?!) And why would you want to go out with someone you’ve never even met?

Even better, take a minute and think about what you do know about me. I’ve been with someone who shit himself in my bed. I’ve described, in great detail, really bad sex I’ve had, with absolutely no regard for the men it was with. Two of my old boyfriends are dead, one is permanently disabled—true, I had nothing to do with any of these calamities, but it’d sure give me pause if I found out my new man had a track record like that! My last boyfriend was a sociopath who sent me careening into therapy, so now the poor sweet guy I just started seeing gets to be more baggage handler than date! Yikes! I sure as shit wouldn’t go out with me!

Oops! Last week’s column contained a little error. Smug Sam did not call his deluded doormat of a girlfriend a “sucker.” I did.

Embarrass yourself! Write dategirl@seattleweekly.com or Dategirl, c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western, Ste 300, Seattle, WA 98104.