For most of his reading at the Chelsea Barnes & Noble last night, I Can't Believe I'm Still Single author Eric Schaeffer was in his charming first-date mode, all bashful grins and 'aw-shucks, little old screenwriter me? Did I mention I dated Molly Ringwald once?' But occasionally, Eric would get to the clause in one of his run-on sentences that contained a zinger. He'd narrow his eyes and shoot a barbed insult at a pathetic divorced fattie whose life had been brightened when he'd viewed her Nerve profile, or he'd diss a dirty whore who'd had the gall to waste Eric's dating time by not being upfront about her oral herpes, and it would hit you: This guy really hates women. It's not a joke. This is a sociopath who preys on the dating desperation of aging New York ladies and then writes delusional screeds about them in order to feel better about himself. This guy is a Peter Braunstein who hasn't snapped... yet. The audience for Eric's reading was full of women. After all, who hates women more than women do?