Editor’s Note: One of the two single men co-authoring this piece is blond, fair-skinned and cleanshaven, the other black-haired, swarthy and goateed. One’s in his 30s, the other in his 20s. The two agree that the younger one is more aggressively outgoing. And there’s another key difference: One, in response to the sales pitch of the Monterey Bay Singles Convention, has committed to getting married in 2008. In return, they promise that attendance at the “No Single Left Behind” event will help find him his bride – or his money back. Since Friday’s storm kept the keynote speaker and the DJ from arriving, the initial $20 charge was cut in half. That means Adam Joseph is either getting married this year or getting his 10 bucks back. (Joseph and Stuart Thornton did share one key similarity for the purposes of this piece besides being single: neither revealed he was a writer for the Weekly.) – Mark C. Anderson

After relationship coach Susan Bradley gives a slogan-heavy pep talk on flirting and leads several ice breaking exercises, the singles gathered at the Monterey Bay Singles Convention are let loose on one another. Actually, it’s hard to determine if Bradley is entirely finished with her presentation, because she is still on stage speaking into the mic as the 40 local singles simply exit their seats and start chatting to one another in the Hyatt Regency’s Grand Ballroom.

While scanning the overwhelmingly middle-aged crowd, I glance at three business-card-size handouts given to me during the program. One features a picture of a long-stemmed rose and offers contact information for Bradley and her fellow relationship coach/partner David Nicholson. Another is called “The Flirters’ Code of Honor” and features spunky little sayings like “I have a flirter’s flair!” Best of all is a card a flirter is encouraged to give the target of his or her affection. The back reads, “I wanted to meet you because… ” and the flirter can choose one of several options including “my mother would like you” and “I’m not angry with women/men anymore.”

In another hand, I grip a vodka and tonic with a slice of lime bobbing at the surface like a dead goldfish. While I recall that one of Bradley’s main talking points is for a man to secure a woman’s phone number, I realize I need a few more drinks to complete the task at hand.

After downing another round, I enter the mix. When one lady asks what I do for work, I answer that I am a freelance writer. Hoping to keep my identity as an employee of the Weekly concealed, I quickly add that I also mow lawns. She replies enthusiastically and tells me that she would definitely see me soon. Does that mean she wants to hire me for some lawn work?

An extremely friendly woman with a halo of short curly hair then catches me off guard. Ready for the usual question about occupation or place of residence, she throws me a curve ball. “Where are you going on a trip in 2008?” she asks.

“I, um, might go somewhere, um, warm,” I say as a light coating of perspiration starts to envelope my body. “I’m sure I will go on a day trip to Santa Cruz or something.”

Past clumps of singles deciding where they were going to go next, I spot a woman with whom I’d like to talk. There is only one problem: She’s been talking with another guy for about 40 minutes.

Needing the advice of a professional, I approach Bradley, who is now mingling with the crowd. “How do I get rid of an obstacle?” I ask her.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“Say I want to talk with someone, but there’s someone in the way,” I say. “Can I maybe brush into the other guy or just kind of push him out of the way?”

Bradley responds with a laugh and then goes into her theory about engaging and disengaging a possible love interest. I take a swig of my drink and approach the couple still immersed in conversation. I decide to ease my way in by introducing myself to the man first. But as I prepare to apply my recently learned skills, the pair and the greater crowd of singles decide it is time to retire to a bar, a place where drunken patrons can implement a less-refined version of Bradley’s flirting techniques. [ST]

Love Struck

The Grand Ballroom slowly fills with local singles armed with umbrellas and soaking wet London Fog overcoats. They are all on similar journeys, and, like me, they will not be denied by the wrath of Mother Nature.

“What are the chances of meeting someone at these things?” I ask myself.

Filling in for the night’s scheduled keynote speaker, Susan Bradley, RN, a self-proclaimed flirting expert who appeared on television shows like “Hard Copy” and “The Montel Williams Show,” is an able replacement. As she introduces herself to the attendees, Bradley weaves gracefully around the room in a low-cut dress which exposes seemingly infinite cleavage.

A slightly skewed male-to-female ratio peppers the seats, while other attendees loiter next to the cash bar and make small talk. The faint smell of desperation looms.

Men mostly over 45 are dressed in tweed sports jackets and ties. Some have small amounts of hair; others have full heads of the finest handmade toupees. The women show more age diversity, ranging from their 20s to their 50s.

“Have you ever been to one of these?” a middle-aged woman in a purple sequin blouse asks. “I’ve been to several. You just can’t meet the right people at the bars.”

A younger towheaded gentleman with a “Jesus Christ Superstar” pin adorning his blazer explains that he’s new to the area and just wants to meet people.

Bradley begins her spiel on flirting, which includes her own anecdotes and the dos and don’ts of flirting.

In the Catskills tradition, Bradley asks the men to kneel on a knee and profess words of encouragement to the women in the audience. She then asks the women to introduce themselves to the men.

I greet each woman with a soft kiss on the cheek. Each cheek has a scent that is both magnificent and revealing. Some cheeks feel like silk, some feel more like stucco. Each name leaves my memory as quickly as it comes but every scent remains fresh in my mind.

Then – sparks. I didn’t notice her initially during the down-the-lane-introductions, but when our eyes meet again, adrenaline pulls at my kneecaps.

I ask her why she came to the event. “I’m ready to find a husband,” she answers with adamant eyes. The 28-year-old law school student wears a spaghetti-strap dress exposing dark olive shoulders that twinkle under the faux-crystal chandelier.

The surrounding festivities quickly fade into a quiet murmur as our conversation continues, covering all the basic getting-to-know-yous: music, movies, books, upbringing.

She likes Mel Brooks’ movies, especially Blazing Saddles. She enjoys dancing to “good country music” like Merle, Willie and Johnny. Most importantly, she has never been married, has no kids and is not on a weekend pass from the county hospital.

Without music and dance, the “Meet Your Mate in 2008” event ends early. Regardless, my new friend and I continue our night over a couple of tasty libations – and make plans to meet the following night. [AJ]