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thanks for your fascinating piece profiling “D.C.’s Trendiest Pickup Spots” (“Your Unfinished Basement or Mine?” 11/3)—all three of them, that is, that were briefly mentioned by name. It was illuminating, albeit heart-wrenching, to read about the downtrodden author’s encounters with all of these menstruating/frigid/vapid D.C. women. Kudos to you, Franklin Schneider, for surviving your breakup, and subsequent traumatizing encounters, with such determination and clarity!
I assume it was this clarity—or perhaps just the editors?—that compelled him to pepper his misogynistic missive with lines intended to acknowledge the bitter, unalloyed hatred of women that permeates his anecdotes, lines about how the narrator is “as dull and stupid as everyone else” or that a woman is not going to “save” him? I’m not sure where those reluctant admissions of stupidity are in his final suggestion that his friend “pull a Scott Peterson,” though. Moral of the story? If you’re aware that you’re a misogynist, it’s kind of cute and funny that you recommend murdering members of the group you so blindly despise.
Why not commission a piece from Schneider that unleashes his brilliant social commentary on those hot underground pickup spots—self-help groups? Or maybe you’d be willing to buy my article on why D.C.’s bars might be lacking a large population of intellectually appealing, sexually eager women? It’s a real bargain at only $100 per word. I’ll go ahead and give it to you now, just put the check in the mail: guys like Schneider.
Cardozo