Dear The Beauster: I’m Blue in All The Wrong Places

by Beau Hebert


Dear The Beauster,

I’m a divorced dad who’s finally getting back into the dating game after two years. Dude, I’ve tried Buffalo Wild Wings and the Skyway Park Bowl, and I’m having zero luck meeting women. I refuse to try dating apps, so what do I do man? I’m getting blue below the belt, if you know what I mean?

Sincerely, Feeling Blue in all the wrong places


Dear F-ling B in all the W P’s,

I am sympathetic to your plight and can recall long desert safaris of date-lessness and mate-lessness from my single days. It was as though I had developed an awful disfigurement visible only to women I found attractive. Each instance of rejection, or perceived rejection, further eroded my confidence, to the point that I was certain I would never meet someone again. I began to identify with John Merrick, the Elephant Man, in a profound way. Over time, this deep Saharan desert of unintended celibacy baked onto me like a hard enamel, and I accepted that it was my fate to be a modern-day monk…The Elephant Monk.

Then, at the precise moment I truly stopped giving a rip about the opposite sex, a haboob of female attention would suddenly whip up around me in a maelstrom of flirting, phone numbers and meet-ups for coffee (the definition of haboob has nothing to do with boobs, but is a violent wind blowing in summer, especially in Sudan, bringing sand from the desert). I drank a hell of a lot of coffee in those haboobs, let me tell ya.

I call the phenomenon described above the GRAND PARADOX OF DATING! it’s at the exact moment you really, truly, absolutely quit caring about how people perceive you, how you act, how you dress and even your own pathetic loneliness that you become ridiculously charming. Unfortunately, like the Israelites so long ago, one must traverse a brutally long, unforgiving desert to reach this point. Your blue parts will get more blue until they become a deeply saturated cobalt hue of yearning and unrequited affection. Keep going! Stop caring! March into the eye of the haboob!

Or, instead of looking for love at bowling alleys and sports bars based on deep-fried chicken parts, get an adorable puppy, name it Romeo, and take it for lots of walks. Chicks dig puppies.

Prescription from the Back Bar Pharmacy at Jude’s Old Town: Blue Hawaiian Cocktail – White rum, blue curaçao, pineapple juice & coconut cream, blended and served in a highball glass.

Overheard at the bar: “George W. Bush and Karl Rove now seem warm and fuzzy to me.”

Beau Hebert is the owner and head bartender of Jude’s Old Town in Rainier Beach.

Featured image by Alex Garland


2 thoughts on “Dear The Beauster: I’m Blue in All The Wrong Places”

  1. Yes, great advice (especially the puppies). And volunteering. Also, there is *nothing* wrong with dating apps–get over that hang-up! They’re mainstream now. There are some great people on there and we need other great people to join too! (Speaking from experience…)