How to Dodge Cupid in the Nation’s Capital : Dating: New guidebook warns of encounters with the Capital Correspondent, the Diplomatic Corpse and the Shah of Georgetown.

Most single women in the nation’s capital have dated him at least once--the lawyer, lobbyist or government grunt who could lull a screaming baby to sleep in seconds with talk of trade negotiations, torts or tax reform.

Now a new book has given him a name: the Washington Monumental Bore.

He’s one of many capital catches catalogued in “The Single Woman’s Guide to the Available Men in Washington,” which was due to hit bookstores for Valentine’s Day.

It’s written by single Washingtonian Mary J. Shomon, a 31-year-old public-relations manager who’s been in the city since 1979. It comes with a warning on the cover:

“NO MAN in Washington wants you to read it! NO MAN in Washington wants to be in it!”

But large numbers of the men in the city’s professional universe have found their way into the guidebook’s 45 cartoon-illustrated pages.

There’s the Senator Svengali, who’s at least 40 but likes women in their 20s; the Shah of Georgetown, who’s the overperfumed son of a wealthy, deposed foreign leader, sent to study at Georgetown University; and the State Departmental Case, who works in a cubicle far from any foreign intrigue.

The Capital Correspondent dresses in foreign-correspondent gear from Banana Republic and tells you his war stories about being “on the last plane out” of whatever war-torn country is in the news.

“He will be up before you in the morning . . . with CNN blaring, and The Washington Post, The Washington Times, The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal spread around the bed,” Shomon says.

“After drinking six cups of coffee, he will dash out, saying he has an interview, and you will not hear from him again until next month.”

All the book’s bachelors seem to have one thing in common--a distinctly Washington brand of self-importance. Most are also on their way somewhere else.

Take the city’s hundreds of eligible diplomats who Shomon describes as “suave, gentlemanly, cultured”--perfect until you go to visit them in their homes.

Then, you discover the Diplomatic Corpse.

“He will greet you with a phony double-cheek kiss, put on ‘La Traviata,’ tell you to sit on a particularly uncomfortable chair, and hand you a tiny glass of bad sherry,” Shomon writes. “If you wander around admiring his artifacts, he will insist that you not touch his ‘objets.’ ”

The Diplomatic Corpse “does not have an original thought in his head,” the book warns.

“Why would he need one? His entire life is dedicated to flying first class around the world and sipping wine at receptions, all the while smiling vacantly and avoiding international conflict.”

The book’s illustrations--by cartoonist R.J. Matson--are wonderfully detailed.

The Capital Correspondents are shown sitting in a circle with their computers, Banana Republic bags, luggage and cameras littered on the ground around them. One lifts up an adhesive bandage on his arm to show off a scar. Another talks into a microphone.

Through the huge picture window behind them, a plane can be seen skewered and smoking on the top of the Washington Monument. They’re all too busy talking and calling their offices to notice.

The guide is the first effort of Flies on the Wall Inc., a tiny publishing house whose self-proclaimed subversive mission is to transform “the dour wonks of Washington into people who can ultimately learn to have a slight sense of humor about themselves if they really try.”

Future projects include a similar guidebook for Washington men, as well as guidebooks for different American cities and the world at large.

The publisher, Faris Bouhafa, is a close friend of Shomon’s who started Flies on the Wall to publish her guide after established publishers weren’t interested. He’s printed 3,000 copies of the book so far, at a cost of about $10,000.

It’s worth it, if it gets Washington laughing, says the 46-year-old New Yorker.

“Don’t get us wrong,” he said. “We like Washington and we like living here. We’re not saying it’s not a great place to live. It just needs to lighten up a little.”