Rockabilly your baby, and other retro-dating ventures

In typical modern American girl style, I sauntered up to the specimen in question and inquired as to the togs he was considering buying. Turns out, the stranger was an out-of-towner, visiting his college chums. The conversation shifted to our weekend plans, and he asked me if I knew anything about the local rockabilly scene. Lucky for him, I know a thing or two about the goings-on in the area. I sent him on his way with a list of places not to be missed during his weekend stay, replete with the phone number of yours truly. If he were to stick around Boston, I undoubtedly could find something for him to do nearly every night of the week (see sidebar for proof).

We were to meet up Sunday night at the Plough and Stars, as per my suggestion, to partake in its weekly showcase of rockabilly and country bands. This neighborhood bar has a mellow and intimate atmosphere, and it's easy to meet people. Maybe too easy, as I foresaw running into an ex or three, so I reconsideredtaking my date there. But singles should definitely check it out, whether donning gingham and/or racing stripes or not -- all are welcome.

Instead, we met at the Paradise Lounge for Sunday's Frolic Room, a night of burlesque and vaudeville-style sideshows and skits. I expected it to be less sexy and more campy, what with the advertised magicians and trapeze artists noticeably absent. I felt sort of like the daughter in "The Graduate": I was trying to talk about wholesome topics like work and school amid the topless tassel-twirling going on directly behind me. I possess a certain ennui toward these types of events, having roomed with a burlesque starlet, so instead of running out the door flailing my arms and sobbing, I suggested we get a drink at the Model Cafe and laugh at karaoke singers.

He was slightly disappointed that we would not be dancing, as he had brought along a satchel containing actual dancing shoes. According to the Midwestern boy, there is apparently some sort of a swing scene on the outskirts of Boston. He had gone to a swing dance party at a VFW earlier in the weekend (www.havetodance.com).

He was so above and beyond a perfect and polite gentleman throughout the date, that I was almost taken aback by his etiquette. He was way more Richie than Fonzie. The more experience I gain with the boys, the more I can appreciate the nerdy nice guys over the too-cool bad ones. Had the weather been wetter, I bet he would have draped his jacket over the puddles for me to cross. I never quite understood that particular tradition, but as an artifact of old romantic movies, I dig it. Maybe there is something beyond a fashion statement to these retro-revivalists -- a sort of regression back to the traditional values of yore, and I think it's the cat's meow.

With nightly goings-on in the scene, there's no better accessory to the finely tuned rockabilly outfit than an equally pristine date. Find one on www.rockabillydating.com, a free site to post your wares and browse available '50s wannabes.