It recently occurred to me that the dating/mating scene in L.A. seems to be a constant pinball pivot between, to put it simply and pithily, ‘talkers and stalkers.’

The word on the street from outsiders–namely that French dude from last month and the Croatian guy from last week respectively–is that everyone in this town says they’ll call but never does. As a footnote, both aforementioned Euro babes uttered this and then failed to follow up with a phone call, pretty much corroborating their own monolithic statements. Indeed, this is a town of flakes, on one end, and the love-deprived and all-too-eager, on the other. Let’s face it, most of us have probably played both roles in our dating careers.

For every couple of flakey pretty boys I have dated or met who said they’d call and never did, there has been at least one frighteningly ardent suitor who has recalled the expression, “gum on your shoe.” And I’ve heard similar tales from my male friends. Why is this though? Where are all the “normal” single people who understand the delicate balance of follow-through, interest, pacing and personal space?

The answer is two-fold. Firstly, balanced people clearly don’t move to L.A. The promise of fame and fortune is the dream of the imbalanced and ungrounded. Despite the fact that native Angelenos can be pretty friendly and honest (if I do say so myself), let’s face it, this town was born to attract drama queens who bounce around from extremes when not on Paxil or between representation.

The second half of the answer is that there is a dynamic at play between love-hungry and blase. They feed off each other. Not all desperado, cling-ons (or “Captain Klingons” to quote my friend Bettina) were born that way. The Nature vs. Nurture argument once again rears its head. Many of these men were taught to be this way over years of Dating Boot Camp (a.k.a. L.A. or New York dating).

Let’s say a man starts out as laidback and mellow and hits the metropolitan dating scene. Chances are that even if he’s cute and gainfully employed, he’s going to get a little snubbed by some diva-in-training or other. Or perhaps she’s just non-commital. After some time, this man is going to become hungry for a down-to-earth, honest, interested female. Unfortunately, when one finally crosses his path–love-starved and hungry for a connection–he blows it by fastening himself to said female for dear life, believing that if he lets “this one get away” he’ll “never meet another ‘real’ girl again.” A stalker is born.

The reverse, as you might have guessed, is similarly true. After years of even harsher rebuffs as an over-zealous heavy-hitter, said man (and let’s be fair, woman as well) can become navigated by his own subconscious fear of failure and totally fake out. It gives him power to tell a beautiful woman that he will call her and then leave her hanging by the phone. That kind of power (in a power-hungry town) is, for some, better than sex. Personally, I’d rather have great sex.

So, what is the solution? Obvious. Go to Silicon Valley or Canada and export a partner. But wow, do we really need to resort to such extreme tactics? Perhaps. In a town of Extreme Dating, anything is possible…and nothing it set in stone (because really, who wants to make that kind of commitment?)

Posted by Shana Ting Lipton