Dating in L.A., more often than not, is not entirely unlike surviving the 405. It basically makes you want to just drive right off the road rather than actually driving to where you want to go. But you still try and merge into whatever lane looks like it’ll have you at the desired destination fastest. Problem is, when you finally successfully set yourself up in said lane, it comes to a complete standstill and you’re left to try and merge into another. So you turn up your radio or talk on your cell to block out the outside drama. But that distraction only serves to introduce you to the next near-death experience, which is pretty much what happens when you listen to several different friends’ dating advice. Someone tells you to play hard to get, another tells you to tease, and before you know it you’re left with whiplash from all the emotional extremes. Too bad a chiropractor can’t tweak you back as easily from this as after a five car pileup. Then, just as you’re sure the only thing left to do is turn off the engine and leave your car stranded in the middle of this ferocious freeway altogether, you see a really cute guy in the car next to you. So you speed up, slow down, try and find the right pace, and it begins again. Or at least it keeps you going until the next time you want to crash and burn.