Single File: Pretty girls should take some initiative

DEAR SUSAN: Where's the pretty girl who isn't with someone? Here! I'm the girl men smile at and admire. Plenty of that, but when it comes to asking me for my number or for a date or simply striking up a conversation, not so much. So I spend the day filled up on admiring looks -- the entirety of my love life -- and stay home on Friday night and Saturday. I assume that some men are already in a relationship and just enjoy looking at a pretty face. But what about the ones looking for love?

From the "Single File" blog

DEAR BLOGGER: I have two answers. One, assume that most men are little-boy shy around prettiness, and take it upon yourself -- those dainty pink shoulders -- to make the first move toward a man whose face and manner are pleasing. Yes, you may need to be a teensy bit assertive and take your chances of striking out. For sure, you'll learn about shyness in yourself and, over time, become less passive and more understanding of the whole enchilada -- i.e., the single scene.

My other suggestion is to develop your sense of humor. Men rank a woman's sense of humor above her looks, so why not have both in your corner? A good-natured smile combined with a jest (not a wisecrack) can smooth those first awkward seconds and hand you the options of the opening gambit. Can't hurt!

DEAR SUSAN: In your response to a "Single File" blogger, you wrote, "Salome needed 1,001 nights to say it all." But to be correct, it was Scheherazade who told tales for 1,001 nights. (Salome danced because she wanted John the Baptist's head on a plate.) In that column, you were advising women to maintain some mystery in their romantic relationships. Well, you can put me on record as agreeing!

From the "Single File" blog

DEAR BLOGGER: Thanks for your eagle eye. Yes, as I said in that column, mystery is not telling all on a first date, leaving a little bit unsaid, unrevealed, unspoken.

But the big danger in being mysterious is confusing mind games with mystery. And believe me, they are worlds apart. One can heighten desire, feeding on healthy imagination and fantasies, but the other -- the imposter -- can, when discovered, bring down the most promising relationship, consigning it to a dark and dusty death. Hear me well, my sisters: Game playing is dishonest and deceitful, the desperate Hail Mary of small minds. Ah, but mystery is a thing apart -- cloaking the female in a story artfully woven piece by piece, each tryst supplying another piece of the enigma. Her aura leads to no conclusions but many more possibilities, with no end in sight. Much to aspire to, no? And knocks mind games out of the box. Think about it, readers, the next time you're tempted to open a long monologue about yourself.