Michael Korb explores the flirty, funny and sometimes frightening world of dating in Southwest Florida
The No. 1 movie in America is Think Like A Man, based on the Steve Harvey book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man. If you haven’t seen it yet don’t worry, as my next door neighbors say, “Why bother? There hasn’t been a good movie since Gone With the Wind.” The film’s premise is that four women are walked all over by their men until they read Harvey’s book and turn the tables on them (until the men find out what they’re up to—that’s when hilarity ensues). It’s a time-honored rehashing of the “men are dogs and should be leashed” line of entertainment. But at a recent outing at a very exclusive restaurant (for what my accountant calls “research”), I met several (OK, two) men who are not only not happy that Steve Harvey would break the “guy...
Posted at 10:27 PM | Permalink
Desperate times call for desperate measures. Since this column began in January we’ve been searching for an area single to follow in order to document her dating adventures. It will literally be just two sentences a week at the bottom of this column that’ll read something like this: “Miss X had her first date with a divorced father of two whom she met at Campiello in Naples. She digs his Maserati but not the fact that he plucked a hair from her head and used it to floss some herb spaetzle from his lower bicuspids.” (In this version I imagined Miss X to be a dental hygienist.) Unfortunately, just when we think we’ve found the perfect candidate, they either meet someone awesome and go off the market or they turn out to be lunatics incapable of a stable and healthy...
Posted at 06:33 PM | Permalink
Which Seth Rogen do you like better? I had lunch with someone for the first time the other day at Sea Salt and when the time came to order a drink I chose an iced tea. “Don’t you want an adult beverage?” she asked (as though I had just ordered a strawberry milk with a curly straw). “I don’t really drink much,” I replied. “Well, what do you normally drink when you do drink?” she countered. “Champagne,” I said. “You only drink champagne? Really?” She looked at me as though I had four heads, clearly stunned that I didn’t say beer or a martini or some other alcoholic beverage that can be written in chalk on a sidewalk sign. Her first impression of me was officially “snob.” But I believe in the adage “Drink for the life you want, not for the life...
Posted at 09:12 PM | Permalink