Speed dating handshake
What happened the second time around wasn't much more encouraging.
These are the lucky women harvesting your seed while you're still young(ish) and virile, trying to live your dreams. Well, the way these things go, according to men, these events "could use some more time." To women, it's either "absolutely not" or "full-throttle from the first handshake, I'm going to wrap my pussy around this man's wallet judging the shine in his shoes." (Hint: don't wear death-metal hoodies at speed-dates; apparently they are gauges as to your worth as a human being).
But when a woman is unable to talk with sense about what she does, yet rambles on anyway with that innate superiority that it should be , I get combative that she's not able to meet me on an intellectually-level playing field yet somehow unable to be thoughtful either.
Too often, a woman's selectivity often boils down to the six-figure income and the dead mother, or at least someone who will be dead by the time they become the mother-in-law, someone infirmed, and easy to kill with untraceable levels of cyanide cakes.
They act as if they are doing you a favor, but in reality, because they've had kids early on in their lives, and I'm childless single and moderately successful in an economy where most single men are unemployed, the food stamps I wave in front of their faces beg to differ.
One thing that's always an ice-breaker with women is employment.