My friend Yoav is moving back to San Francisco tomorrow, so he and our mutual friend Colin met up for a last drink. As I stood outside the bar, waiting for them to arrive, an attractive young woman came over and started up a conversation.

A few minutes later, when Colin and Yoav arrived, Lina somehow invited herself to join us. And, when I left the bar, two or three pitchers shared between us all, I had lipstick on my collar and a phone number scrawled on my hand.

Which, frankly, struck me as more than a bit worrisome. Perhaps it’s a sign of living too long in New York, where distrust of strangers runs a close second to public urination as a grand tradition. Or perhaps it’s the the general effect of living in a society where guys are normally required to be the pursuers rather than the pursuees. Either way, as Colin’s girlfriend Carrie later pointed out, if someone came up to me on the street to offer a free pizza, I’d similarly be a bit hesitant about taking a first bite.