Amazonian comedienne Mandy Stadtmiller's dating column debuted in yesterday's Post, and it proves yet again that men are only after one thing. Mandy meets a handsome, motorcycle-driving Lothario on MySpace who she nicknames "Trouble," and chemistry ensues. But, as is the way in this love-starved city, romance never lasts.

We did everything that night. A languid dinner looking out over an old deli mart, dessert at a mobster front, a motorcycle ride down the FDR and across the Brooklyn Bridge, drinks at a faux speakeasy, spontaneous poker, then salsa dancing in his apartment.

He looked at me. "Don't anticipate," he said.

I tried so hard not to.

And then just like that, Trouble blows me off.

Oh, Mandy! Everyone knows you don't salsa dance on the second date. Maybe a quick meringue-job to show him you're up for things, but once a guy gets in your dance, he's as good as gone. Better luck next week!

ABOUT LAST NIGHT [NYP]