When I return from work I always walk the dog. Normally I avoid other dogs and the humans attached to them. This is because my dog, Lucy, can sometimes be unpredictable around other dogs. She once bit another dog very badly and I am extremely careful because of this. There are exceptions to my caution, however.
Here in the village, there are some single women with dogs and I have seen two or three of them. I’ve learned something a bit unique about dog people when they are out and about with their animals. The humans tend not to introduce themselves, they introduce the dogs. I’m known as “Lucy’s dad”. I know Lenny’s mom and Yogi’s mom, two quite attractive women, but I don’t know their names.
This past Friday I was taking Lucy on my usual after work walk. At the small park, I spied two small, fluffy white dogs about 75 feet away. They were attached via leash to two women who were obviously talking. Dog talk, of course.
One of the women was wearing an actual dress. Despite Lucy’s occasional difficult with other dogs, I walked towards them while keeping my dog’s leash tight. Walking a dog and approaching people who are also walking dogs is incredibly easy.
Lucy did surprisingly well with the two fluffy white shih tzus. There was no snapping or growling on her part. As for the two women? One was definitely older, at least 65 years old but quite friendly and pleasant. The other woman – the one wearing the colorful and attractive orange sundress – was likely in her 40s with a nice face and a slender body. We all chatted about dogs, of course. I was looking for indicators of interest from the woman in the sundress. If there were at this point, they were too subtle to pick up on.
As I was taking Lucy on a walk with purpose of emptying her of waste materials, I had to move away because she was too distracted by the other two dogs. I walked about 50 feet away and sure enough, Lucy produced. Given that the two women were still chatting, I walked back with my dog to rejoin the conversation, this time, with a purpose. The casual conversation would now have an agenda.
As the dog-oriented subjects were winding down, the three of us started talking about the benefits of living in the village. I let it known that I had a decent, full-time job in a professional environment (ok, it’s a long term contract, close enough). Guys my age in the village with full-time, white-collar jobs are few and far between. Most are “doing deals” or working food and beverage.
I also let it be known that I was single. I was qualifying myself. The woman in the sundress flat out asked what I did for a living. She really brightened up when I told her “writer”. I used a little self-deprecation when I added the caveat that I was a technical writer. Tech writers can make a good living, after all. During the course of conversation, I had a cigarette.
Suddenly, as in very suddenly, sundress woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Janet.” I shook her hand nicely. “I’m Private Man.” Dog people rarely, if ever, actually introduce themselves. The Game is on.
The older woman introduced herself as Jody. We then started talking more about ourselves. We’re all neighbors, Jody living in a nice townhome and Janet living just about across the street from me.
OK, with a bit of Game in play and my prequalifications delivered in this “casual” conversation, it was time to listen, watch, and learn from Janet. She was tanned, almost too much so (beach-oriented lifestyle) and was wearing a bit of makeup to go with her orange sundress. 7 face, likely 8 body but hard to tell with the dress. Not exactly chesty but her overall figure looked promising.
Jody excused herself and Janet and I walked South, a direction that would take us to both our places. I asked her what she did and sure enough, she’s a writer, published and everything (a murder mystery). The book didn’t do too well and so she was doing some other things to make ends meet, legitimate stuff, not like this woman. In the course of this “idle chat” she gave out some very important indicators of interest.
Janet bummed a cigarette from me. An important sign? Yup, smokers tend to stick together. When she bummed a smoke from me it was her way of saying that we’re compatible regarding that bad habit.
She mentioned that she has only recently moved to the village, just two weeks previous. This was an indicator of interest because it would give me a great excuse for me to show her around more. I knew this and she knew this. The ball is my court regarding that.
The second indicator of interest was this statement from her: “We just moved here, I mean me and my dog.” Please, that’s so obvious it hurts. If any of you male readers didn’t get that indicator of interest I’m going to personally visit you and beat you over the head with a blunt object. Shit, even Johnny Milfquest could figure that one out and he’s a tosser.
It was actually less than ten minutes as we walked (very slowly) and talked. I finally broke of the conversation by letting her know that I was going to walk into the village and meet up with some friends. She was smiling broadly when she stated “I really hope to see you in the village some time.” My response? “I insist that you do.”
Some take-away lessons from this encounter:
1. Approach. Seriously, just approach. Yeah, I have it easy because of the dog.
2. Don’t hang around too long. I left for a bit but then returned. It’s sort of a variation of the change of venue. I also broke off the conversation with Janet by giving the message that I had active social life but would still enjoy running into her again.
3. Look for indicators of interest! They could be body language or verbal. When Janet introduced herself to me, that was quite significant.
Of course, this leads to a dilemma on which I will post about soon – the perils of propinquity.