On Wednesday night I made the mistake of letting Relentless Salsero walk me to my car. I couldn't find my friends, and I didn't feel like braving the usually tame streets of Santa Monica alone, although, I would have been better off. Not only did I have to stave off Relentless Salsero's very direct proposition for the fifth time (no ceremony, just five words: "will you sleep with me?") but I also had to listen to him drone on about how all Salseros are solely interested in getting a women into the sack (how naiive of me to believe that any man might actually like to dance...). According to Relentless Salsero, what makes HIM special is that AT LEAST he's HONEST about it...

I had to tell him that as much as I appreciate his bizarre and self-defeating honesty, and despite the fact that I have no interest whatsoever in his offer, he might want to consider refining his seduction campaign (it's sort of like a burglar telling a homeowner that he's planning on robbing his house and expecting his admission to keep said homeowner from calling the police). I may not like him, but I would certainly respect him more if he at least pretended to be interested in my work, background, or refrigerator magnet collection (it's small, but unique), at the very least, I would appreciate the opportunity to talk about myself (as many know)...

I suppose, in his own way, Relentless Salseros' attempt at being honest about a possible compulsive behavior is a step in self-improvement and, therefore, the right direction, but, really...who cares? Is this my problem? I'm still left wondering if the the potential muggers and homeless people who haunt the streets of Santa Monica might not be better company (no wonder I'm still single, I can't even pick suitable men to spend five minutes with...let alone the rest of my life).

Just for today, I can spend time with less honest people.