DATING FOR STREETPUPPIES

This is not about hookups, friends with benefits, or the occasional one night of ecstacy behind a dumpster.

This is about straight out dating.  For Streetpuppies.

You may not remember much about dating, and what you do remember will depend upon your age, and the era you lived in when you first started to feel that ping in the area of your heart where the love lever is located, and started to look at some guy or gal, and think to yourself....hmmmmmm.

Or maybe you looked at some guy or gal and thought..."Hey, what a coooool  car, I want me some of that." Or, "Hey, what a coooooool set of pins on that babe, and you know, same thing.

In fact, what with the advent of singles bars, then dating services, then the internet, then internet dating services for people who were too busy with their blackberries and iPods to take care of the love lever thing, actual dating protocol has morphed into something unrecognizable to a guy with a coooooool car, or a babe with a coooooolll set of pins.

And if you're living in Homeless Nation, well dating has probably morphed into the hook up, and one night of ecstacy behind a dumpster thing.

But Street puppies need real companionship and affection, and they get pings in the heart, too.

And the whole ritual of dolling up just to spend a few hours with somebody you will probably sit across from at a table filled with food and tell lies to each other for a couple of hours, though abhorent on the face of it, is probably worth the time just to take your mind off  tomorrow's struggle with the food stamp agency.

Now, there are some barriers to actually dating, here in Homeless Nation.

First, we don't have singles bars, unless you count the corner outside the convenience store where they sell the nasty four-packs. 

And there is no dating service on the planet, i.e. Match.com or e-harmony, and the like who would let a Street Puppy past the first line on the application.,  or making that awful video you have to make so somebody can look at it and wonder if you are the one.

The internet dating services present another set of problems, first you have to have more access to a computer than the couple of hours a day you are usually granted at the public library, and you don't want to cut into your Japanese animation watching time.

Then, the internet is clogged with perverts, con men -and women - and Fabio and Angelina wannabes who will e-mail a photo to you which has been airbrushed with a staple gun and a whole bunch of lies about their jobs and incomes and even their names. 

Which brings us back to the actual dating scene where you sit down from each other across a table for a few hours, as a curtain raiser on a situation which could blossom into a wedding on the beach at Maui.

Now, the first thing, is choosing the person you really want to spend some time with, both before and after the table thing.

Not many Street puppies are actually presentable enough -what with all of the tattoos and rings through the nose and stuff - to actually set off a vibe which says, "Hey, let's us two go off together and talk and laugh and spend time together," instead of "Whooooaaaa.....let's boogie 'til we puke!"

But, hey, the people with the tats and rings and stuff need companionship, too, just not your companionship.

Now, in order to get a date,  you have to find somebody first, and if you look around the bus stop, or the park you hang in, you'll  probably find somebody as lonely and as loving and as lost as you are.

Now,  you  have to ask that person something, like...'Hey...you wanna go out sometime?"

That will do for now, because if you said "I was wondering if you would like to dine with me on Saturday Night?" they would probably flee.

Now, after the guy/gal says, "Hey, yeah, let's go out," this is where the going gets tough. And the tough get going.

Set a time. And a Day.  Nobody in Homeless Nation lives their life according to the Blackberry.

Ask what kind of food she/he likes, and hope it is not French.

Actually, hope it's something at a local feed, because you don't have the dough to go to the movies or a concert or dinner, and she/he probably understands that, unless they are a total gold digger and thought you were good for a Wendy's burger, a bus pass and a couple packs of little cigars.

Now, arrange for a pick up time.

That's right, pick her/him up at a designated site, preferably near the feed you have both decided will be a good idea, and within walking distance, because you don't even want to get into the transportation problem of providing two bus passes.

When you pick up your date, make sure you are showered or cat-bathed, clean clothes, and smell nice.

Make sure the pick up time is oh, about an hour before the feed starts.

Now, you have to make the decision, do you stop at the convenience store and get two cold beers and sit around under a tree someplace and drink and talk and get to know each other...or do you get in line as soon as possible at the feed so you won't end up having to fight off the inevitable bully who will cut the line.

Do the beer thing.  Maybe a few beers.  You will both probably need to relax a bit, because neither of you have done this in a long time instead of just hanging out.

Ok, dinner is over.  And it wasn't that bad, five or six casseroles and old bagels and fruit cups with peaches and syrup. 

Now, the inevitable awkward question on even a first date. Your place or mine?

Neither of you have a home.  Even more awkward.

You're going to have to drop her/him off at their spot, or part company  at the best neutral place, like the bus stop, or the park.

And then say, "I'll call you."

Perfect. 

You've just had your first real date in a long time.

Next week, you can have another date, and not necessarily with the same person, and on and on, and pretty soon, you will be looking forward to Saturday nights again, just like you did back in the day.

Saturday night, when you can spend time with another person who set off that ping in your heart.

Who knows, one of those Saturday nights may even wind up on the road ahead on a beach in Maui, with candlelight and the whole disaster.