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"Two weeks after my latest breakup (I ended things with the 22-year-old I talked about in a recent column), I kept thinking how I never stick with things for long. I had the creeping suspicion that my heart was a steely machine that pumped antifreeze into my unfeeling extremities. Then I went out with Strawberry (you&amp;#x27;ll see why I call her that), and everything changed. Strawberry used to date an acquaintance of mine, and we stayed in e-mail touch since they broke up--no innuendo, just wisecracks and innocent banter about food and books. When we made plans to grab a drink--a reunion, not a date--I was totally unprepared for what happened. Over the course of three hours, Strawberry went from girl-next-door cute to grown-woman irresistible. And, no, the shift wasn&amp;#x27;t because of alcohol or how great she looked in skinny jeans or even how her red hair fell over her shoulders in shiny tidal waves. Here&amp;#x27;s what did it. She wasn&amp;#x27;t afraid to be goofy I don&amp;#x27;t take myself too seriously and tend to have a hard time with people who do. I remember how one ex, Jenny, was borderline obsessed with what other people thought. Once when I dared to dance a little shimmy on an elevator, she glared at me and hissed, &amp;quot;Never do that again,&amp;quot; like I was a misbehaving toddler. But Strawberry encouraged my silliness--even my bad Italian accent--onlookers be damned. Better still, she made funny faces and told even funnier dirty jokes. She could talk about anything From whiskey to Lady Gaga, Strawberry could dish about the lowbrow (Jersey Shore) and the high (the vacation she wanted to take to Tuscany). I was left feeling like she was a woman who is neither stuck up nor uncivilized. She was happy A week earlier, I had gone out with someone who was as cranky as she was sexy--she complained about everything. Who wants to hear about long lines at OfficeMax? Or that every man she knows is a baby? Strawberry was amped about life, and if she had baggage, she sure didn&amp;#x27;t unpack it at the table. It was clear she loves her job and her friends. She&amp;#x27;s into literature, swimming, music--and more things I haven&amp;#x27;t heard about yet but want to. Here was a woman who exuded satisfaction and clearly didn&amp;#x27;t need a man to give her a sense of well-being. She had some kind of energy that shut off that Seinfeldian part of me that scrutinizes behaviors to see if they&amp;#x27;ll drive me crazy. As she talked, I sat there visualizing us coming home after a stressful day at work and laughing it off over wine. I could see us doing that for years--forever. Yeah, I was that hooked. Drinks turned into dinner, dinner to more drinks, and then we kissed before she descended the subway stairs. She tried to wipe her strawberry lip gloss from my mouth, but I tasted it the whole way home and felt like I&amp;#x27;d just watched a good movie. I kept replaying the scenes. I don&amp;#x27;t know how ready I am to be with just one person. But I do know this: It was a lot easier to dismiss the idea of commitment before I spent three sweet hours with Strawberry. So I&amp;#x27;ll be seeing her next week--and hopefully a lot more after that. Hey, maybe there&amp;#x27;s a warm, beating heart in there after all. Jake is a real, live single guy dating in New York City."^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/2010/03/jake-how-to-wow-him-in-one-date>