By Amy Argetsinger and Roxanne Roberts
Sunday, September 24, 2006
In a new kink in the old dating game, erotica writer Zane has a way to meet that special someone: freak dating. It's conventional "speed dating" with a twist -- during the rounds of eight-minute get-to-know-ya conversations, singles are required to wear masks and talk only about sex.
Zane is the Prince George's County woman best known for her steamy fiction featuring African Americans. (She's never publicly revealed her real name, but it is widely reported to be Kristina LaFerne Roberts.) She's written nine books, sold more than 4 million copies and landed on the New York Times bestseller list multiple times. She came up with the idea for freak dating three years ago as a way to help women express their sexuality. Women, she says, deserve great sex and need to ask for what they want, just as men do.
"I see this as a way they can actually communicate their desires," Zane says. "That is the area most women have problems with." She added the masks, which hide most of the face, so that "people will feel more open to conversation." The goal is to determine whether two people are sexually compatible at the start. Not to say that sex is the only thing that matters in a relationship, but she believes it's pretty darned important.
The inaugural event kicks off tonight at Zanzibar on the Southwest waterfront as part of Zane's 40th birthday party. Like traditional speed dating, women will sit at tables while men rotate through the room. Each couple will have just a few minutes to talk, then use response cards to rate their interest: 1 means "when Hell freezes over"; 7 translates to "addicted." The cards will be collected, and e-mails forwarded only with the consent of both parties.
Talking dirty doesn't come cheap: Admission to the birthday party is $25, plus $50 more for freak dating and mask. Based on e-mail interest from her fans, Zane has already committed to host the event once a month through March.
Will the hostess get freaky herself? The mother of three is now single, having finalized her divorce earlier this month.
"I would definitely do it," she told us.
Sorry, You're Not on the ListOne in an occasional series of dispatches from parties you should have crashed.
Host: Washington Capitals owner Ted Leonsis and wife, Lynn .
Occasion: Tipoff for Georgetown University's celebration of 100 years of basketball.
Setting: Chez Leonsis in McLean -- Hoya cheerleaders and pep band at the front door, cocktails by the pool, and a huge tent with Georgetown ice sculptures and b-ball centerpieces.
Guests over 6-foot-4: Legendary former coach John Thompson Jr. , current coach John Thompson III , '80s sensation Patrick Ewing , and most of the '06-'07 roster.
Guests under 6-foot-4: Everybody else. "I feel short," said Tim Russert (6-2).
Biggest fan: Leonsis (class of '77), who has season tickets on the stadium floor. "Last year when we beat Duke, I led the charge of students on the floor. Then I realized I wasn't a student."
Smallest fan: Coco , the Leonsises' 16-month-old Yorkie, wearing collar and leash in GU blue and gray.
Spread: Open bar, sushi, beef, duck, corn pudding and a massive table covered with desserts.
Parting swag: Cookies decorated like Georgetown jerseys, gourmet chocolate and an oversize "1907-2007" T-shirt.
Readers Tell UsA handful of readers called us "vapid," "embarrassing," "clown journalists," "media hacks" and "catty sorority girls." Why? Because in an item Wednesday about Al Gore training volunteers to help do his global-warming slide shows, we alluded to the old "wears earth tones" story. Thanks for your thoughts. But c'mon -- you really think we'd get into a sorority? We had to invent our own: Rho Sigma 4ever!!!!!
Our Tuesday column helped find the raffle ticket holder who left a Washington Scholarship Fund benefit without realizing he'd won $750 worth of Gold Cup passes and fine-dining: real estate mogul Dave Pollin . Still seeking the guest whose $75 ticket (No. 0962036) won $1,200 worth of yoga. If it's another millionaire, we're going to scratch our own eyes out.
New Jersey writes: Let's just say that Pamela Brown [Sept. 19] left an impression. Could you set me up through the Post's Date Lab?
Sorry, man. We'll tell her she's got a fan, but honestly? The day that gorgeous 22-year-old TV personalities agree to be set up with strange men procured for them by newspapers is the day that all gossip columns will die. Send your tips and mash notes to reliablesource@washpost.com .
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