The weather the past week has been much less summery, and more autumnal than anything. It helps me with the impending end of my fun summer of dates. Last night was the last date that I will have this summer. It was kind of bittersweet. School starts tomorrow and my dating will have to take the back burner to teaching and grad school, so I apologize in advance for the lack of posts. Maybe I will tell some of my archived dating history sordid stories, once a week or so, to keep the readers engaged.
In hindsight, I dated pretty much all summer - Memorial Day right up through Labor Day (almost). Which is pretty impressive. And what have I come up with? An extensive collection of the craziest men you might meet in this fine city. They weren't all bad dates, in fact some were downright good. But did anything amount from any of them? Nope. I did make some good friends and have expanded my social circle. It was a great experience. I can look back at my summer of serial dating with pride; if/when I do meet someone that I settle down with, I can say that I dated enough to know what I want in a guy, and more importantly what I don't want.
So the last date of the summer... here goes.
I had exchanged emails with this guy prior to meeting him. Obviously, as all internet dates start that way. From these email exchanges I knew that he was a 34 year old librarian living in Brooklyn. Ok, that's a good start, but not nearly enough information for me. So, I did what most people do, I assume, when they meet someone online. I checked to see if he had a myspace page using his email address. Score. He did. From this I found out that he was divorced. Ooooh, juicy. But there was only one other picture on the site that I hadn't already seen, so there was not too much information on that page. From there, I decided to see what else I could find out about this guy... I googled the handle he uses for his personal ad and his email address. Another score! I found his blog. Uh oh. Now if I can find his blog that easily, it's potential that he could find mine just as easily. He is a librarian, I trust he must have some mad librarian skills. True enough, I googled the first part of my email address I use for this blog (and for online dating emails) i3rooklyngirl. Ahhh, yes. My blog does come up when you google that. That's the risk I will have to take. Back to this guy's blog. So, I go back to the very beginning of his blog, and read it from the beginning... So besides learning that he is divorced, now I can read how frequently he posts dating ads on Craigslist, more about his divorce, that he's a champion spelling bee winner, all about his family vacation, and some really personal stuff about him family and his life. Now I just feel awkward thinking that I am actually going to meet this guy and I have to pretend to know very little about him.
So, after a failed attempt to go out last Friday night (I was in Jersey and didn't make it back in time - I had to cancel), we agreed to meet up at a bar in Williamsburg last night. We met a bar (the one where he wins all those spelling bees actually - but wait, I'm not supposed to know that yet...) but he forgot that they have Bingo there on Tuesday nights, so we go to a less crowded, quieter bar a block away. We talk over 2 rounds of beers, and I am surprisingly capable at concealing all the information that I already know about him. The conversation starts easily, and we talk about music. He is well versed in Sinatra and singers of that era, I've been listening to a lot of Big Band and Standards lately, probably due to my roommate's wedding, which I tell him. He mentions nothing about having been married previously, and I'm very consciously aware of that. Really aware of it. He talks about going to friends' bachelor parties, I am dying to ask him what his was like. Can't do that. He talks about his cousin, who, from his blog, I have actually seen a picture of... she has the same name as my brother in law, and he mentions how it's weird that his cousin (who is a girl) has a very traditional boy name. It's funny, I thought the same thing when I read that on his blog. But I can't say that, can I? He tells me how he's actually the reigning champion at the local spelling bee, which of course, I already knew. But it was interesting to hear him talk about how he actually became a better speller. Crossword puzzles, I need to start doing them. If it weren't for spell check on this thing, I don't think I'd keep a blog. We also talked a lot about libraries and books. Safe territory, I know very little about the actual work he does, so I can talk and ask questions unguarded about that. After we finished the second round, he goes to the bathroom, and as soon as he comes back, he abruptly announces that he has to leave. It was about an hour and a half on the date. Not a substantial amount of time. But I wasn't disappointed. The conversation was very interesting, but I wish I could have been a bit more relaxed about what I knew about him. Next time, I'll just leave well enough alone.
I've reasoned from all my dates this summer, anything under 3 hours will not amount in a second date. That's just statistically how it has worked out. Now, more than 3 hours does not automatically guarantee a second date, but it greatly increases the odds.
And that, in short, is the conclusion of my summer dating.
Tomorrow I go back to teaching, and with that comes the risk of seeing the subway stalker. I am a little nervous about that, but I'm hoping it won't be a problem.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
3 inches
I am finding it hard to write this post. Maybe it's because I am scared of jinxing a good thing (yes, that's very superstitious of me) ... or maybe good dates are just not all that interesting to write (and therefore read) about. I should be glad that the tone of my dates has been getting better towards the end of this long dating summer. Because the whole point of dating in the first place is not so you have good stories to tell your friends, although that is what my summer was really like.
Anyway, my date last night was good. I'd even go so far to say it was great... but then I'd really be pushing my luck there. I've managed to overcome my issues with dating guys that are a wee bit younger than me, but that's not my problem with this one. He's 2 years older. My problem here is that he's shorter than me. Everyone I've talked to has had the first reaction of "ssss" (that's the best phonetic spelling I can do of someone sucking in their breath, like when they've heard some really bad news) followed by.. well if you like everything else about him, it's not a big deal. No. It's not a big deal. I know that. But if it weren't such a big deal, why is everyone's first reaction one of disappointment? If this guy were about 3 inches taller, I would be completely smitten, no doubt in my mind. Why should a little thing (and 3 inches is a little thing...) bother me so much?
It was really gross weather yesterday, rainy and cold and really not August New York weather at all and then later turned into muggy humid sticky weather - which is more seasonal. I hated even thinking about having to dress up and drag myself into the city for a date. All I wanted to do was watch tv and nap (I was up late the night before at my (ex) roommates wedding and was frankly a little wiped out). But I had been really looking forward to this date. We had 2 phone conversations before the date that were longer than most phone conversations I ever have, even with friends. Because frankly after 3 hours on the phone, I run out of things to say (shocking, but yes, there are times where even I am at a loss.) So after 2 marathon phone conversations, I kind of thought... well what would we have to talk about in person? We met outside the Spring St. subway station in Soho (how's that for unintentional alliteration?) and he took me to a really lovely French (style?) restaurant. We both were trying to decide between the same two entrees, so we ordered both and decided to share. People who share well are automatically good people in my book. He also went on an ordering frenzy and got us a fabulous appetizer (I usually don't talk about food here in the dates, but the food was really spectacular) of warm goat cheese wrapped in pastry over a mixed green salad and then he ordered soup as well. The amount of food we consumed between the appetizers, soup, and entrees was astounding, but the food was amazing. Even better than the food was the conversation we had on the date. We didn't lull at all, and I didn't really think of it as being on a date. I felt like we interacted like a couple that had known each other for years and were very comfortable with one another. We talked more over coffee, and finally decided to walk around SoHo since the rain had stopped. We wandered around for a bit and then decided to stop in at a bar for some drinks. We had some beers, talked some more, laughed a lot. I'm not sure where the conversation came from, but neither of us seemed to be at a loss for words the entire night.
It was getting late, and he had to get home to get to sleep, so he walked me to the train, where we kind of stood there, neither of us really knowing how to end the night. There was the typical, I had a really good time - we should do this again - talk. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, but to be honest it ended up on my neck actually. When he went to give me a hug he stood up on his tippy toes... now I'm taller than him, but by less than an inch, there was no need for tippy toe action. I teased him about that, and so he gave me another hug with no tippy toes this time. We kissed a bit, and then I got on the train to go home. I had that smiling to myself feeling the entire ride home, which is a sure sign of a good date.
If I don't hear from him again, I'd be very surprised and disappointed... but then again, maybe I should hold out for someone 3 inches taller?
Anyway, my date last night was good. I'd even go so far to say it was great... but then I'd really be pushing my luck there. I've managed to overcome my issues with dating guys that are a wee bit younger than me, but that's not my problem with this one. He's 2 years older. My problem here is that he's shorter than me. Everyone I've talked to has had the first reaction of "ssss" (that's the best phonetic spelling I can do of someone sucking in their breath, like when they've heard some really bad news) followed by.. well if you like everything else about him, it's not a big deal. No. It's not a big deal. I know that. But if it weren't such a big deal, why is everyone's first reaction one of disappointment? If this guy were about 3 inches taller, I would be completely smitten, no doubt in my mind. Why should a little thing (and 3 inches is a little thing...) bother me so much?
It was really gross weather yesterday, rainy and cold and really not August New York weather at all and then later turned into muggy humid sticky weather - which is more seasonal. I hated even thinking about having to dress up and drag myself into the city for a date. All I wanted to do was watch tv and nap (I was up late the night before at my (ex) roommates wedding and was frankly a little wiped out). But I had been really looking forward to this date. We had 2 phone conversations before the date that were longer than most phone conversations I ever have, even with friends. Because frankly after 3 hours on the phone, I run out of things to say (shocking, but yes, there are times where even I am at a loss.) So after 2 marathon phone conversations, I kind of thought... well what would we have to talk about in person? We met outside the Spring St. subway station in Soho (how's that for unintentional alliteration?) and he took me to a really lovely French (style?) restaurant. We both were trying to decide between the same two entrees, so we ordered both and decided to share. People who share well are automatically good people in my book. He also went on an ordering frenzy and got us a fabulous appetizer (I usually don't talk about food here in the dates, but the food was really spectacular) of warm goat cheese wrapped in pastry over a mixed green salad and then he ordered soup as well. The amount of food we consumed between the appetizers, soup, and entrees was astounding, but the food was amazing. Even better than the food was the conversation we had on the date. We didn't lull at all, and I didn't really think of it as being on a date. I felt like we interacted like a couple that had known each other for years and were very comfortable with one another. We talked more over coffee, and finally decided to walk around SoHo since the rain had stopped. We wandered around for a bit and then decided to stop in at a bar for some drinks. We had some beers, talked some more, laughed a lot. I'm not sure where the conversation came from, but neither of us seemed to be at a loss for words the entire night.
It was getting late, and he had to get home to get to sleep, so he walked me to the train, where we kind of stood there, neither of us really knowing how to end the night. There was the typical, I had a really good time - we should do this again - talk. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, but to be honest it ended up on my neck actually. When he went to give me a hug he stood up on his tippy toes... now I'm taller than him, but by less than an inch, there was no need for tippy toe action. I teased him about that, and so he gave me another hug with no tippy toes this time. We kissed a bit, and then I got on the train to go home. I had that smiling to myself feeling the entire ride home, which is a sure sign of a good date.
If I don't hear from him again, I'd be very surprised and disappointed... but then again, maybe I should hold out for someone 3 inches taller?
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
The Origin of Umbrellas
Tonight was a good date. I was really not looking forward to this date, and came actually very close to canceling it last minute because of recent events with friends that were taking precedence. I am very glad that I didn't. From his pictures my friends warned me that this guy was going to be too nerdy, a boring conversationalist, but nice. It's a good thing I don't judge people to harshly by what they put down on paper. My friends would have been sorely disappointed. He was cuter (and much less geekier) than his pictures, and one of the most interesting conversationalists I have been on a date with yet. I wasn't disappointed for even a split second.
We met at Fraunces Tavern for a drink before heading over to Water Street to see a 1940s Film Noir on a rooftop overlooking the water. It was a gorgeous night. I show up (on time!) and after we hug hello, the first thing he says to me is "Do you know the origin of umbrellas?" I had to pause to try to figure out if he was asking me if I knew where umbrellas originated or if I knew the etymology of the word. (neither of which would I have known the answer) He clearly saw my utter confusion to what he was asking me, and clarified that he was talking about the origin of the word, and was thinking about it because of all the people in Manhattan who use umbrellas to shade the sun and was wondering if umbrellas were originally meant as a sun shade. I looked it up when I got home. They most certainly were.
From this introductory conversation starter I conclude that my date is not just intelligent, he's the type of really incredibly smart that makes me feel like any sentence I form over the course of the entire date is comparable to that of a kindergartener. I immediately become self conscious and have a hard time forming coherent thoughts. I relaxed a little bit after the beer. We talked about his PhD dissertation, and the joys of being off for the summer (he's on the faculty for a brand new writing program at a small city university). After drinks we walked over to Water St. to the rooftop for the movie. It was still early, so we stood up on the walkway overlooking the water and talked some more. I was still nervous about everything coming out of my mouth sounding all wrong, but I was able to contribute more intelligently at this point. When the rooftop started crowded up, we settled in a nice spot on the fake grass (they even had fake dirt too) and chatted until the movie started.
The movie was good, the night was beautiful... I was just so happy to have a good time in enjoyable company. We walked over to the subway, where I told him bits and pieces about the subway stalker (he asked if I felt safe taking the train to bed-stuy...), and then he told me a crazy story which is one of those stories that is way too nuts to be anything but true.
For your reading pleasure I will transcribe his telling of his craziest subway experience:
Guy: So, I was waiting for the train and this homeless guy comes onto the platform holding a kitchen knife. Like a steak knife. He was holding it straight out in front of him so anyone who got in front of him would clearly have been knifed.
Me: No way.
G: No, really. So I run up to the payphone and call the cops and let them know. But it just so happens that the train pulled up and a cop got off at that station, right where the guy was. So, the cop tries to get the guy to give up his knife, but this guy was clearly crazy, and he was not giving up his knife. So the cop shoots him... in the balls.
Me: NO! Oh my god!
G: (Laughing) Yeah, and after he was shot, he ran onto the tracks and into the subway tunnel. I think he was on speed or something.
(clearly this is poorly transcribed as I'm writing the conversation out about 3 hours after it happened, but you get the point.)
At this point my train pulls up, and there is a very slightly awkward goodbye, and I thank him for a great evening, get on the train, and go home.
My favorite date hands down, activity wise. He's a really nice guy, and I'll definitely put the effort into trying to see him again.
Tomorrow is my last day of my Jdate subscription... but don't worry, the dates don't end there. I have alternative means, and I plan to continue, I just need a break.
We met at Fraunces Tavern for a drink before heading over to Water Street to see a 1940s Film Noir on a rooftop overlooking the water. It was a gorgeous night. I show up (on time!) and after we hug hello, the first thing he says to me is "Do you know the origin of umbrellas?" I had to pause to try to figure out if he was asking me if I knew where umbrellas originated or if I knew the etymology of the word. (neither of which would I have known the answer) He clearly saw my utter confusion to what he was asking me, and clarified that he was talking about the origin of the word, and was thinking about it because of all the people in Manhattan who use umbrellas to shade the sun and was wondering if umbrellas were originally meant as a sun shade. I looked it up when I got home. They most certainly were.
From this introductory conversation starter I conclude that my date is not just intelligent, he's the type of really incredibly smart that makes me feel like any sentence I form over the course of the entire date is comparable to that of a kindergartener. I immediately become self conscious and have a hard time forming coherent thoughts. I relaxed a little bit after the beer. We talked about his PhD dissertation, and the joys of being off for the summer (he's on the faculty for a brand new writing program at a small city university). After drinks we walked over to Water St. to the rooftop for the movie. It was still early, so we stood up on the walkway overlooking the water and talked some more. I was still nervous about everything coming out of my mouth sounding all wrong, but I was able to contribute more intelligently at this point. When the rooftop started crowded up, we settled in a nice spot on the fake grass (they even had fake dirt too) and chatted until the movie started.
The movie was good, the night was beautiful... I was just so happy to have a good time in enjoyable company. We walked over to the subway, where I told him bits and pieces about the subway stalker (he asked if I felt safe taking the train to bed-stuy...), and then he told me a crazy story which is one of those stories that is way too nuts to be anything but true.
For your reading pleasure I will transcribe his telling of his craziest subway experience:
Guy: So, I was waiting for the train and this homeless guy comes onto the platform holding a kitchen knife. Like a steak knife. He was holding it straight out in front of him so anyone who got in front of him would clearly have been knifed.
Me: No way.
G: No, really. So I run up to the payphone and call the cops and let them know. But it just so happens that the train pulled up and a cop got off at that station, right where the guy was. So, the cop tries to get the guy to give up his knife, but this guy was clearly crazy, and he was not giving up his knife. So the cop shoots him... in the balls.
Me: NO! Oh my god!
G: (Laughing) Yeah, and after he was shot, he ran onto the tracks and into the subway tunnel. I think he was on speed or something.
(clearly this is poorly transcribed as I'm writing the conversation out about 3 hours after it happened, but you get the point.)
At this point my train pulls up, and there is a very slightly awkward goodbye, and I thank him for a great evening, get on the train, and go home.
My favorite date hands down, activity wise. He's a really nice guy, and I'll definitely put the effort into trying to see him again.
Tomorrow is my last day of my Jdate subscription... but don't worry, the dates don't end there. I have alternative means, and I plan to continue, I just need a break.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Because
This date started in disaster. It was a Sunday Brunch date, which I don't usually do. Because Sunday Brunch is best spent with a group of friends, or recovering from Saturday night... it's not really a great date time. And not to mention, I didn't get in from last night's date until after 4 am. So I was pretty tired this morning when I had to get up for my 1pm date. I am not a morning person at all, and would much rather spend my Sunday morning lazing around the apartment, reading the paper, gossiping with my roommate over bagels and coffee... but no, I had to get all dressed up for brunch. I was running a little late as is my nature, and in the rush, forgot my cell phone.
I didn't realize this until I was halfway to the subway, and did not think I needed to turn around to get it. I mean, I got along quite fine before cell phones, it would be nice to spend an afternoon not tethered to technology chain. That was the first step leading to the disaster.
I get to the subway stop, and we're meeting for Dim Sum in Chinatown. Fun! I have never had Dim Sum in the city before and I am really excited about it. The place we are meeting at is PACKED. and I mean it is wall to wall people. How am I supposed to find someone in here? I manage to search through the sea of people - turns out, finding a 30 something white jewish man in this crowd, shouldn't be too hard. But I don't see him. I check my watch. I was 10 minutes late for the date, which means if he was there, he'd have to have been pretty impatient to have left already. Maybe he's running late... it's not like I can call him on my cell to check... So I wait around. Time ticks on. 1:20, 1:30... by 1:45 I decide I need to call him. I don't have his number with me, which means enlisting my friends to help me out on this one. My first step in this mission is to find a working payphone, get a phone card, and try to remember my friends cell phone numbers by heart. I have 3 phone numbers (that would have been actually useful at this point in time) stored in my head. 2 of my best friends and my parents. Please God, do not let me have to call my parents, to have them log into my jdate account to read my email to get this guy's phone number. Thankfully I got in touch with a friend, and after an infuriating encounter with bad connections and phone cards that suck up money faster than you would think (for about 5 minutes of conversation I went through an entire 60 minute phone card!) I got this guy's number. At this point it is 2pm. A full hour after the date should have started. I call my date, and he answers. He's at Port Authority. Apparently he had some trouble with a bus, or something... and he's on his way downtown, I should meet him in 20-25 mins.
After an hour and a half of waiting around, he gets there and we have some dim sum. At that point I was exhausted from having run around trying to get in touch with this guy, and from a lack of sleep the night before combined with having no coffee at that point. As soon as we sat down, I knew I was going to have to fight to stay awake. The conversation was fine. He went to the same college that I went to my freshman year, so we had a lot to talk about in that regard. However, he was the type of person who tried to "one up" everything you said. And he clearly believed himself to be always right. After the meal, we took a walk around Chinatown and got some ice cream at the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory. Quite possibly my favorite part of the date. We walked around some more, and sat in a park in Chinatown. We talked for quite a while. He is starting his first year of teaching in the fall, so we had that to talk about as well. However, he said something about when he was student teaching, there was this girl, a student of his (I think he referred to her as a snotty bitch - people who hold grudges against their students are not cool in my book. I have called my students names after a particularly bad day, or said they they act bitchy, but 2 months out of it, I can look back on each of them with no resentment) used to start sentences with "because" and he always took points off for it and she would complain. She was an honor student and I think he thought she was grade grubbing, but in actuality, the girl is correct. There is nothing wrong with starting a sentence with the word "because" so long as it is a complete sentence, usually a complex one. (e.g. Because I forgot my cell phone, I was not able to contact my date. - sounds a little formal, but completely grammatically correct). I actually use this method to teach Cause and Effect to my 5th graders and I tell him this in my most condescending, superior tone. Anyway, this guy continues to argue with me about how it's not correct and he's not going to accept it. It makes me mad that people like him are allowed to teach.
So after this debate (my second grammatical conversation in 2 days.) I was done. The date had gone on long enough, and I was ready to go home. The goodbye was awkward, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me, and there was no way that was happening. I hugged him goodbye and I thought he was going to kiss me on the cheek, but he moved in for the kill and got me on the lips. I must have pulled back so fast, it was no more than a peck. This guy was trying way too hard. So, then he says "If you're every in Jersey, we should hang out." (He lives in North Jersey) to which I reply, "Um, I'm often in Jersey, but never in North Jerz." Him:"Oh, well then we can go to AC together and get a room!" Me: (Horrified by this thought) ... silence... silence... Him: Or maybe not.
I wished him a safe trip home, and walked away. Because this date went so bad from the beginning, there is no chance for this guy.
I didn't realize this until I was halfway to the subway, and did not think I needed to turn around to get it. I mean, I got along quite fine before cell phones, it would be nice to spend an afternoon not tethered to technology chain. That was the first step leading to the disaster.
I get to the subway stop, and we're meeting for Dim Sum in Chinatown. Fun! I have never had Dim Sum in the city before and I am really excited about it. The place we are meeting at is PACKED. and I mean it is wall to wall people. How am I supposed to find someone in here? I manage to search through the sea of people - turns out, finding a 30 something white jewish man in this crowd, shouldn't be too hard. But I don't see him. I check my watch. I was 10 minutes late for the date, which means if he was there, he'd have to have been pretty impatient to have left already. Maybe he's running late... it's not like I can call him on my cell to check... So I wait around. Time ticks on. 1:20, 1:30... by 1:45 I decide I need to call him. I don't have his number with me, which means enlisting my friends to help me out on this one. My first step in this mission is to find a working payphone, get a phone card, and try to remember my friends cell phone numbers by heart. I have 3 phone numbers (that would have been actually useful at this point in time) stored in my head. 2 of my best friends and my parents. Please God, do not let me have to call my parents, to have them log into my jdate account to read my email to get this guy's phone number. Thankfully I got in touch with a friend, and after an infuriating encounter with bad connections and phone cards that suck up money faster than you would think (for about 5 minutes of conversation I went through an entire 60 minute phone card!) I got this guy's number. At this point it is 2pm. A full hour after the date should have started. I call my date, and he answers. He's at Port Authority. Apparently he had some trouble with a bus, or something... and he's on his way downtown, I should meet him in 20-25 mins.
After an hour and a half of waiting around, he gets there and we have some dim sum. At that point I was exhausted from having run around trying to get in touch with this guy, and from a lack of sleep the night before combined with having no coffee at that point. As soon as we sat down, I knew I was going to have to fight to stay awake. The conversation was fine. He went to the same college that I went to my freshman year, so we had a lot to talk about in that regard. However, he was the type of person who tried to "one up" everything you said. And he clearly believed himself to be always right. After the meal, we took a walk around Chinatown and got some ice cream at the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory. Quite possibly my favorite part of the date. We walked around some more, and sat in a park in Chinatown. We talked for quite a while. He is starting his first year of teaching in the fall, so we had that to talk about as well. However, he said something about when he was student teaching, there was this girl, a student of his (I think he referred to her as a snotty bitch - people who hold grudges against their students are not cool in my book. I have called my students names after a particularly bad day, or said they they act bitchy, but 2 months out of it, I can look back on each of them with no resentment) used to start sentences with "because" and he always took points off for it and she would complain. She was an honor student and I think he thought she was grade grubbing, but in actuality, the girl is correct. There is nothing wrong with starting a sentence with the word "because" so long as it is a complete sentence, usually a complex one. (e.g. Because I forgot my cell phone, I was not able to contact my date. - sounds a little formal, but completely grammatically correct). I actually use this method to teach Cause and Effect to my 5th graders and I tell him this in my most condescending, superior tone. Anyway, this guy continues to argue with me about how it's not correct and he's not going to accept it. It makes me mad that people like him are allowed to teach.
So after this debate (my second grammatical conversation in 2 days.) I was done. The date had gone on long enough, and I was ready to go home. The goodbye was awkward, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me, and there was no way that was happening. I hugged him goodbye and I thought he was going to kiss me on the cheek, but he moved in for the kill and got me on the lips. I must have pulled back so fast, it was no more than a peck. This guy was trying way too hard. So, then he says "If you're every in Jersey, we should hang out." (He lives in North Jersey) to which I reply, "Um, I'm often in Jersey, but never in North Jerz." Him:"Oh, well then we can go to AC together and get a room!" Me: (Horrified by this thought) ... silence... silence... Him: Or maybe not.
I wished him a safe trip home, and walked away. Because this date went so bad from the beginning, there is no chance for this guy.
First is the Worst, Second is the Best...
I took a vacation from dating for a week. Well, 5 days off is kind of like a vacation. Last night, I ended up seeing one of the guys I went out with during my week of a million dates again. This was date #2 of the double header that week (The Albino at the Beer Garden). We decided since last night was a much more enjoyable evening to spend at the Beer Garden, we should give it another shot. So I headed over to Astoria again for a fun night. The more time I spend with the Albino, the more I like him. I think I convinced myself that he was too good looking for me, and not to even bother getting my hopes up on that one, and in turn did not fully enjoy our first date as much as I could have. Although, of all my dates that week, it was by far the most enjoyable. So, I drove to Astoria instead of testing my patience with the trains this weekend. This turned out to be a smart move, no traffic, less than half the travel time, and a fool proof way to ensure I would not get drunk on the date.
I drove to his apartment and we had a beer at his place before going to the Beer Garden. This date was exactly like the last date, just in reverse... and I didn't have to sneak out afterwards. We made out at his place before going to the beer garden, and it was even better than the last time. Maybe because I was not drunk, maybe because I wasn't so worried that he was only making out with me because he was drunk... whatever the case, it was better. After a while, we finally managed to get out the door and head over to the beer garden. I like 2nd dates a lot better than first ones for the sole reason of not having to have "first date" talk. We knew all that crap, and we could still have a real conversation. Good Sign! It was fun and flirty conversation, with some real intelligent conversation thrown in every now and then for good measure. We argued about the correct use of the past participle (yes, that's the elementary teacher in me) and tried to take unsuspecting photos of each other on my camera. It was truly an uneventful night that turned out to be a lot of fun. We had only one pitcher this time (instead of the 3 last time) and decided to call it a night (it was well past 2 am at this point and I still had to drive back to Brooklyn). We got into a debate on the walk home over whether the government (and in turn the education system) panders too much to non-english speaking people living in America. This turned into an hour long discussion outside his apartment, and a really nice change of pace. I've been so caught up in date talk, I'd almost forgot what it was like to have a real conversation. It was a good, healthy debate where we both were making very valid and lucid points for being slightly drunk (him - he drank 2/3 of the pitcher) and incredibly tired. I left at 3:30 am feeling as if I had just had one of the best nights I've had in a really long time.
2nd dates are a world of difference compared to first dates. While I've talked to almost all of the guys I've gone out with over the past few weeks a couple times, this is the only one right now that has the sense of potential.
My roommate's advice is to stop going on first dates. I wish I could skip the first date, I am tired of first dating.
I drove to his apartment and we had a beer at his place before going to the Beer Garden. This date was exactly like the last date, just in reverse... and I didn't have to sneak out afterwards. We made out at his place before going to the beer garden, and it was even better than the last time. Maybe because I was not drunk, maybe because I wasn't so worried that he was only making out with me because he was drunk... whatever the case, it was better. After a while, we finally managed to get out the door and head over to the beer garden. I like 2nd dates a lot better than first ones for the sole reason of not having to have "first date" talk. We knew all that crap, and we could still have a real conversation. Good Sign! It was fun and flirty conversation, with some real intelligent conversation thrown in every now and then for good measure. We argued about the correct use of the past participle (yes, that's the elementary teacher in me) and tried to take unsuspecting photos of each other on my camera. It was truly an uneventful night that turned out to be a lot of fun. We had only one pitcher this time (instead of the 3 last time) and decided to call it a night (it was well past 2 am at this point and I still had to drive back to Brooklyn). We got into a debate on the walk home over whether the government (and in turn the education system) panders too much to non-english speaking people living in America. This turned into an hour long discussion outside his apartment, and a really nice change of pace. I've been so caught up in date talk, I'd almost forgot what it was like to have a real conversation. It was a good, healthy debate where we both were making very valid and lucid points for being slightly drunk (him - he drank 2/3 of the pitcher) and incredibly tired. I left at 3:30 am feeling as if I had just had one of the best nights I've had in a really long time.
2nd dates are a world of difference compared to first dates. While I've talked to almost all of the guys I've gone out with over the past few weeks a couple times, this is the only one right now that has the sense of potential.
My roommate's advice is to stop going on first dates. I wish I could skip the first date, I am tired of first dating.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Business in the Front...Party in the Back
The only time I really want my iPod to work, or a good book to be immersed in, is clearly when the batteries are dead, my bag is too small to carry a book, and the F train has just pulled away from the station as I am entering the turnstile. So here I am, sitting in hell (aka 14th St. Station) waiting for the F. I have a notebook and a pen, so I figure I will blog this date on paper while it's still fresh in my mind.
I am bitter right now, and I recognize that. It's hot, I missed the train, and I am WAY too sober to be anything but. Tonight's date was less than par. Not as bad as the first one of the week, and in fairness I'm probably being way too harsh on this guy just because I'm in a bad mood.
I get a text message from my date before I leave my apartment around 5:30, saying he is running a little late and not to rush. Ok. Good, at least this time I'm not the late one. So I figure running a little late means 15 - 20 minutes. I arrive where we were supposed to meet near Union Square around 6:20, exactly 20 minutes after we were supposed to meet. I am actually a little worried that I am going to be later than he is, but no this is not the case. So a little late in my book does not translate in 50 minutes late. No. Friday night I was late for my date, and I felt SO badly about it. This guy shows up not 15 minutes late, but 50 minutes late and doesn't even apologize for keeping me waiting. Nice, huh?
I need at this point to provide you with a mental image of my date. From the front, he's a very attractive guy. Short brown hair (or so it seems), nice body, well dressed... definitely not a disappointment. Now... I'm not sure if this qualifies as a "technical" mullet... but this guy has not cut his hair in 10 years. yes, that's right. The last time scissors came near some of his hair was 1996. Now, I say some because the sides of his hair were kept pretty short, and then the front, like where his receding hairline was starting (yup balding and a mullet, it's hard to pull that combination off) was the long part and that was pulled straight back and sectioned off in rubber bands, all the way down his back. Pulled back it was long enough that he could sit on it, I can only imagine what it looks like down. I'm not a hair-ist... I honestly don't care how much or how little hair a guy has, but he had about a foot of split ends, and I was just dying for a pair of scissors...
Anyway, I haven't let makeup or midgets stop me from dating, why should a mullet? So, we stopped into the tea bar that we met at (he doesn't drink... so no drunken dating tonight), and got some interesting iced tea, and ventured out into the streets of Manhattan. I asked him what he wanted to do... take a walk, sit in Union Square, try to find a restaurant... and he opts for taking a walk. We start walking up Park Ave. It's a really nice night. Comparatively to the nights this month, this by far is one of the coolest, most pleasant nights thus far in August (granted.. it's only the 6th.). We walked up to about 30th St. and decided to find a place to eat. We ended up going to Indian food, which was a good choice, I liked it a lot. I have only had Indian food a few times before, but it was a good choice. He's a little shy and seems a little reserved, and he really doesn't get (or react) to my sense of humor, so there were a few awkward moments. Some weirdness, which I'm not really used to anymore on first dates. I'm pretty good at filling any weird silences with my incessant talking. At one point he was telling me a story about how he had gotten lost in Manhattan thinking he was in Brooklyn, and for good measure I pulled out my NFT to use as a visual aid. Last night, when my sister was visiting, we went to the movies and purchased some swedish fish for the show. I'd say about half the bag had managed to spill out into my purse, which I didn't notice, until I took out my NFT and there was a swedish fish stuck to the cover. Hmm. I wonder how many more are in there... in the end I uncover about 20 swedish fish in my bag, and pile them nicely on the table. My date must have thought I was crazy at this point. Maybe it was because I wasn't drinking, or maybe it was because my date was SO shy and indecisive about everything... or maybe I am just bored out my f*n mind from these dates... but I decided to start making artwork out of swedish fish after dinner. I spelled out my name, and then my date's name, and then a picture of flowers, and some abstract sculpture artwork... it was crazy. I must have really lost my mind. I can't imagine what I would do if my date started playing with candy or food remnants in front of me. I would definitely not have been too keen on that. But at this point I just didn't care.
We left the restaurant and spent a good 15 minutes on the corner of Park, trying to figure out what we were going to do. I was really tired of suggesting things to have him just shrug and say he didn't mind whatever, so I decided we'd just walk towards the park and - worse case - sit there for an hour or so until he had to go. So, as were walking, awkwardly making idle conversation, I glance to my left and there is a beacon of hope. We are on the corner of 19th, and I suggest that we stop by Duke's to get some dessert. I was actually thinking about a drink... but in this case, Duke's has some good desserts, and it will pass the time. So we have dessert and I quiz him on 80's Trivial Pursuit cards that are on the table. Before you know it, it's time to go, my plan worked. We walked to the train, had an incredibly awkward goodbye, and ended my week of serial dating.
He really was a nice guy, and maybe he needs a second chance to see if he warms up when he's not so nervous (and has cut the mullet).
I am bitter right now, and I recognize that. It's hot, I missed the train, and I am WAY too sober to be anything but. Tonight's date was less than par. Not as bad as the first one of the week, and in fairness I'm probably being way too harsh on this guy just because I'm in a bad mood.
I get a text message from my date before I leave my apartment around 5:30, saying he is running a little late and not to rush. Ok. Good, at least this time I'm not the late one. So I figure running a little late means 15 - 20 minutes. I arrive where we were supposed to meet near Union Square around 6:20, exactly 20 minutes after we were supposed to meet. I am actually a little worried that I am going to be later than he is, but no this is not the case. So a little late in my book does not translate in 50 minutes late. No. Friday night I was late for my date, and I felt SO badly about it. This guy shows up not 15 minutes late, but 50 minutes late and doesn't even apologize for keeping me waiting. Nice, huh?
I need at this point to provide you with a mental image of my date. From the front, he's a very attractive guy. Short brown hair (or so it seems), nice body, well dressed... definitely not a disappointment. Now... I'm not sure if this qualifies as a "technical" mullet... but this guy has not cut his hair in 10 years. yes, that's right. The last time scissors came near some of his hair was 1996. Now, I say some because the sides of his hair were kept pretty short, and then the front, like where his receding hairline was starting (yup balding and a mullet, it's hard to pull that combination off) was the long part and that was pulled straight back and sectioned off in rubber bands, all the way down his back. Pulled back it was long enough that he could sit on it, I can only imagine what it looks like down. I'm not a hair-ist... I honestly don't care how much or how little hair a guy has, but he had about a foot of split ends, and I was just dying for a pair of scissors...
Anyway, I haven't let makeup or midgets stop me from dating, why should a mullet? So, we stopped into the tea bar that we met at (he doesn't drink... so no drunken dating tonight), and got some interesting iced tea, and ventured out into the streets of Manhattan. I asked him what he wanted to do... take a walk, sit in Union Square, try to find a restaurant... and he opts for taking a walk. We start walking up Park Ave. It's a really nice night. Comparatively to the nights this month, this by far is one of the coolest, most pleasant nights thus far in August (granted.. it's only the 6th.). We walked up to about 30th St. and decided to find a place to eat. We ended up going to Indian food, which was a good choice, I liked it a lot. I have only had Indian food a few times before, but it was a good choice. He's a little shy and seems a little reserved, and he really doesn't get (or react) to my sense of humor, so there were a few awkward moments. Some weirdness, which I'm not really used to anymore on first dates. I'm pretty good at filling any weird silences with my incessant talking. At one point he was telling me a story about how he had gotten lost in Manhattan thinking he was in Brooklyn, and for good measure I pulled out my NFT to use as a visual aid. Last night, when my sister was visiting, we went to the movies and purchased some swedish fish for the show. I'd say about half the bag had managed to spill out into my purse, which I didn't notice, until I took out my NFT and there was a swedish fish stuck to the cover. Hmm. I wonder how many more are in there... in the end I uncover about 20 swedish fish in my bag, and pile them nicely on the table. My date must have thought I was crazy at this point. Maybe it was because I wasn't drinking, or maybe it was because my date was SO shy and indecisive about everything... or maybe I am just bored out my f*n mind from these dates... but I decided to start making artwork out of swedish fish after dinner. I spelled out my name, and then my date's name, and then a picture of flowers, and some abstract sculpture artwork... it was crazy. I must have really lost my mind. I can't imagine what I would do if my date started playing with candy or food remnants in front of me. I would definitely not have been too keen on that. But at this point I just didn't care.
We left the restaurant and spent a good 15 minutes on the corner of Park, trying to figure out what we were going to do. I was really tired of suggesting things to have him just shrug and say he didn't mind whatever, so I decided we'd just walk towards the park and - worse case - sit there for an hour or so until he had to go. So, as were walking, awkwardly making idle conversation, I glance to my left and there is a beacon of hope. We are on the corner of 19th, and I suggest that we stop by Duke's to get some dessert. I was actually thinking about a drink... but in this case, Duke's has some good desserts, and it will pass the time. So we have dessert and I quiz him on 80's Trivial Pursuit cards that are on the table. Before you know it, it's time to go, my plan worked. We walked to the train, had an incredibly awkward goodbye, and ended my week of serial dating.
He really was a nice guy, and maybe he needs a second chance to see if he warms up when he's not so nervous (and has cut the mullet).
Sunday, August 06, 2006
He Said, She Said (Updated)
The difficulty in writing this blog is knowing that the subject will be reading it. I was going to just can it all together, and write nothing. But since he did, I should as well. So, for once, the readers can see both sides of the date, which may have been more interesting had it been a terrible date or something really substantial had happened to write about... but here you just get 2 accounts of the same story.
Friday night's date started with me running late as usual. I showed up an unthinkable 15 minutes late (really late... even for me), which is a terrible way to start a date. My date was gracious enough to feign indifference to the fact, and thus began the date. We walked over to St. Marks because my date needed a new pair of shades, which was a good way to start the evening. We tried on a few pair each, I managed to find the most ridiculous pairs to try on and he eventually found a pair that he wanted to get. It was a fun way to ease those first few moments of awkward tension that are inevitable on dates like these. We continued on to DBA on 1st Ave, which I hadn't been to in almost a year, and I forgot how much I enjoy that place. 24 beers on tap, endless selections of alcohol... seriously, you can't go wrong here. We had a few beers and talked easily. This may have been the result of having each read each other's blog before going out, but whatever the case may be - it was not your typical first date conversation. A really nice change of pace for me, though. I am SO sick of talking about school and work, and stuff that practically puts me to sleep as soon as I start talking about it... I was glad to have to actually pay attention to my date and the conversation as it was going on. Because I knew that whatever I did or said had the chance of ending up in his blog, I was consistently conscientious of everything that was going on. But maybe less concerned the more I drank.
We continued from there to a Mexican restaurant on 2nd Ave, where we had some margaritas - arguably not the best drinks I've tasted. Dinner was good, but as we were ordering I noticed that the waiter was clearly having a hard time paying attention to our order, and kept watching something on the street. Sure enough, there was a guy passed out on the street. At first I thought he might have been dead. I think the only way I'd ever lay down on the corner of 2nd Ave is if I were very near death. But, alas, he was not. It would have been a first for me on a date, and maybe a really bad omen. But this guy was merely sleeping (passed out) on the corner of the street, but he drew in a lot of attention. Both from the restaurant and from people passing on the street. He layed there for a while until the police and ems came to revive him and apparently just drop him off on another street corner (we passed him walking - if you can call it that, stumbling is more like it - up the street later in the evening). We finished dinner and drinks, my date claiming that he had to finish his drink, because "he's a man, and men finish their drinks." Men also wind up with really terrible hangovers the next day too.
My date then allotted the time walking from dinner to the next location to be the phone portion of the date. He needed to check in with his friends and make some calls, and I made some calls to see if I was going to meet up with a friend later. We went to the next bar and had some good whiskey. His phone rang easily every 5 minutes. I am not ill at ease with people answering their phones on the date, life happens, and he was polite about it. But I did feel like I was taking up time that he was wanting to spend elsewhere. While I was having a good time, and didn't necessarily want the date to end there, part of me wanted to just tell him to go meet up with his friends because they were clearly expecting him somewhere, and the date was infringing on that.
I tried not to pay attention to his conversations, really... I know what kind of questions my friends ask me when I talk to them before and after (and sometimes during) dates. I didn't need to hear his responses to what I could only imagine his friends were asking. After a few conversations with his friends he told me the time frame of our date was now alleviated... I didn't realize we were on a time frame... but ok. That works. The phone calls pretty much subsided after that, and we chatted over whiskey about camping and array of mind altering substances that we had or had not ever tried. Not bad.
We took a walk to pick up a package that he needed to get for a concert the next day. It was a nice night, and after all the drinks I had consumed thus far, the fresh air was a pleasant change of pace. And really, who cares if your date decides he needs to partake in some shady business like picking up unidentified packages from doormen. Really, it just adds to the adventure. We then continued on to yet another bar to top off the evening. At that point, my inhibitions are pretty much shot, and I can chalk up another date fallen into the "drinking and dating" category with the subcategory of "things Erica should not talk about on a date". We left the bar - both intoxicated - and he was probably very late to go meet his friends at that point, kissed a little bit on the street corner, and parted ways.
I managed to get home (with a few run-ins with crazy men on the F train), take a prescription strength Ibuprofen with a large glass of water, and pass out. I woke up feeling not bad at all. I talked to the guy the next morning on IM, and he seemed like he was hurting pretty bad from the night before... I blame it all on the bad tequila he insisted on drinking (and possibly that he drank for 3 more hours than I did.)
Overall, a fun date. Which brings me to my last date of the week... tonight is my 6th date in 7 days... and by now it's really just standard operating procedure.
** on edit, he's right. I have crazy librarian skills. Not that he made it too hard to find his new blog... it's the exact same text. Tricky Tricky. - E. 8/29/06
Friday night's date started with me running late as usual. I showed up an unthinkable 15 minutes late (really late... even for me), which is a terrible way to start a date. My date was gracious enough to feign indifference to the fact, and thus began the date. We walked over to St. Marks because my date needed a new pair of shades, which was a good way to start the evening. We tried on a few pair each, I managed to find the most ridiculous pairs to try on and he eventually found a pair that he wanted to get. It was a fun way to ease those first few moments of awkward tension that are inevitable on dates like these. We continued on to DBA on 1st Ave, which I hadn't been to in almost a year, and I forgot how much I enjoy that place. 24 beers on tap, endless selections of alcohol... seriously, you can't go wrong here. We had a few beers and talked easily. This may have been the result of having each read each other's blog before going out, but whatever the case may be - it was not your typical first date conversation. A really nice change of pace for me, though. I am SO sick of talking about school and work, and stuff that practically puts me to sleep as soon as I start talking about it... I was glad to have to actually pay attention to my date and the conversation as it was going on. Because I knew that whatever I did or said had the chance of ending up in his blog, I was consistently conscientious of everything that was going on. But maybe less concerned the more I drank.
We continued from there to a Mexican restaurant on 2nd Ave, where we had some margaritas - arguably not the best drinks I've tasted. Dinner was good, but as we were ordering I noticed that the waiter was clearly having a hard time paying attention to our order, and kept watching something on the street. Sure enough, there was a guy passed out on the street. At first I thought he might have been dead. I think the only way I'd ever lay down on the corner of 2nd Ave is if I were very near death. But, alas, he was not. It would have been a first for me on a date, and maybe a really bad omen. But this guy was merely sleeping (passed out) on the corner of the street, but he drew in a lot of attention. Both from the restaurant and from people passing on the street. He layed there for a while until the police and ems came to revive him and apparently just drop him off on another street corner (we passed him walking - if you can call it that, stumbling is more like it - up the street later in the evening). We finished dinner and drinks, my date claiming that he had to finish his drink, because "he's a man, and men finish their drinks." Men also wind up with really terrible hangovers the next day too.
My date then allotted the time walking from dinner to the next location to be the phone portion of the date. He needed to check in with his friends and make some calls, and I made some calls to see if I was going to meet up with a friend later. We went to the next bar and had some good whiskey. His phone rang easily every 5 minutes. I am not ill at ease with people answering their phones on the date, life happens, and he was polite about it. But I did feel like I was taking up time that he was wanting to spend elsewhere. While I was having a good time, and didn't necessarily want the date to end there, part of me wanted to just tell him to go meet up with his friends because they were clearly expecting him somewhere, and the date was infringing on that.
I tried not to pay attention to his conversations, really... I know what kind of questions my friends ask me when I talk to them before and after (and sometimes during) dates. I didn't need to hear his responses to what I could only imagine his friends were asking. After a few conversations with his friends he told me the time frame of our date was now alleviated... I didn't realize we were on a time frame... but ok. That works. The phone calls pretty much subsided after that, and we chatted over whiskey about camping and array of mind altering substances that we had or had not ever tried. Not bad.
We took a walk to pick up a package that he needed to get for a concert the next day. It was a nice night, and after all the drinks I had consumed thus far, the fresh air was a pleasant change of pace. And really, who cares if your date decides he needs to partake in some shady business like picking up unidentified packages from doormen. Really, it just adds to the adventure. We then continued on to yet another bar to top off the evening. At that point, my inhibitions are pretty much shot, and I can chalk up another date fallen into the "drinking and dating" category with the subcategory of "things Erica should not talk about on a date". We left the bar - both intoxicated - and he was probably very late to go meet his friends at that point, kissed a little bit on the street corner, and parted ways.
I managed to get home (with a few run-ins with crazy men on the F train), take a prescription strength Ibuprofen with a large glass of water, and pass out. I woke up feeling not bad at all. I talked to the guy the next morning on IM, and he seemed like he was hurting pretty bad from the night before... I blame it all on the bad tequila he insisted on drinking (and possibly that he drank for 3 more hours than I did.)
Overall, a fun date. Which brings me to my last date of the week... tonight is my 6th date in 7 days... and by now it's really just standard operating procedure.
** on edit, he's right. I have crazy librarian skills. Not that he made it too hard to find his new blog... it's the exact same text. Tricky Tricky. - E. 8/29/06
Friday, August 04, 2006
The Square Root of Jdate
So tonight, I received my 100th message on Jdate. Woohoo! In honor, I thought I would come up with the top 10 moments (good and bad) in my j-dating history... If I were really hardcore (and ambitious), and maybe in a year or so, I'll be able to come up with my top 100. But for now, it's just top 10, the square root of my dating experiences. (Yes. I am that big of a geek.)
Some of these have not been mentioned before, they may be available for special re-tellings, should the need arise.
10. My date showing up wearing make-up (and thus the start of the blog)
9. The Pee-er - this story might make a good "rainy day" blog.. it involves my date peeing in front of me, and other sordid events.
8. Bartering my flat tire being changed for a ride to Staten Island (definitely one of my favorite dates thus far - practical and fun.)
7. Fish Kissing.
6. Being mentioned in someone else's blog as "librarian hot" (which I am most definitely NOT!)
5. "Jdate does not stand for Jesus date"
4. Making out with 2 guys in 1 day.
3. Having a guy take me to a "cash only" restaurant, he ordered an appetizer, and a meal (which he didn't finish) and then mentioned that he had no cash on him. Oh, and he stuttered. Badly. (that's pretty much the whole story. but I can retell it in detail... later.)
2. Jury Duty and Self Defense.
1. 6 dates in 7 days. Hey, even God needed a day to rest.
Some of these have not been mentioned before, they may be available for special re-tellings, should the need arise.
10. My date showing up wearing make-up (and thus the start of the blog)
9. The Pee-er - this story might make a good "rainy day" blog.. it involves my date peeing in front of me, and other sordid events.
8. Bartering my flat tire being changed for a ride to Staten Island (definitely one of my favorite dates thus far - practical and fun.)
7. Fish Kissing.
6. Being mentioned in someone else's blog as "librarian hot" (which I am most definitely NOT!)
5. "Jdate does not stand for Jesus date"
4. Making out with 2 guys in 1 day.
3. Having a guy take me to a "cash only" restaurant, he ordered an appetizer, and a meal (which he didn't finish) and then mentioned that he had no cash on him. Oh, and he stuttered. Badly. (that's pretty much the whole story. but I can retell it in detail... later.)
2. Jury Duty and Self Defense.
1. 6 dates in 7 days. Hey, even God needed a day to rest.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Heat Wave
Dating during a heat wave is about as fun as slamming your fingers in a door - repeatedly. Actually, it's really not so bad until you get to the subway, and then it's like an oven. Which means showing up for the date is now about 10x more nerve wracking than it is on a normal occasion. Is my hair now 5 times larger than it was when I left the apartment? Or better yet, is it plastered down with sweat? Is my face glistening? These are the things I worry about now as I walk from the subway to my date's desired bar of choice. And that's the other thing, the dates have become boring themselves. I mean there is not too much to do on a first date to begin with it... but one of my favorite things to do is to meet at a park and take a walk in the city. This weather provides no opportunity for outdoor activities, which is really unfortunate, because in the summer, the city is at it prime for outdoor events. Sunsets at the harbor, walk along the promenade, outdoor concerts and plays, movies, there is so much to do - and no one wants to sit outside and sweat on a date. So, this is how it goes now... meet for a drink at a bar. Have one or two drinks, conversation, maybe if the feeling is right - dinner after.
So last night, I was on my 4th date of the week. I, being so agreeable, trekked up to the UES during rush hour, right before the Yankees game started (read: the train was PACKED). I am not usually in the UES, so I double checked the directions before I left... Somehow I got it into my head that the bar was on 1st and 84th.. or between 84th and 85th. It wasn't... but it wasnt far, so I had to call the guy, tell him I couldn't find the bar, which is so classy. I was 2 blocks south of where I should have been, but it still made me late for the date. Once I arrive and meet my date (who is clearly - and not surprisingly - shorter than he claimed to be), we have a few drinks, talk, laugh. It's fine. It's nothing special. He was nice, we went to dinner after the drinks, but still, there were no sparks. I didn't feel anything for this guy. He walked me to the subway, and that was that.
I am getting really tired of the same date, with just different people. I could have these conversations in my sleep. I go into autopilot sometimes, and just tune the guy out. I can talk about my job, books I've read, my life in general - without thinking about it. Sometimes I snap back into a conversation, and the guy is in mid-story, sometimes related to something I can figure out... sometimes not, and I have to do my best to follow along.
Anyway... what I think I'm coming to is that this serial dating thing is not for me. It's not as fun as it should be. I am not enjoying it as much as I once was. Maybe the defeatist attitude is coming from 3 out of 4 dates this week being less than par. Maybe I'll feel differently once the heat has subsided, and I can enjoy myself on a date without thinking how gross I feel.
Today is a date free day - my only one this week. Tomorrow it's back in the game, renewed and refreshed.
So last night, I was on my 4th date of the week. I, being so agreeable, trekked up to the UES during rush hour, right before the Yankees game started (read: the train was PACKED). I am not usually in the UES, so I double checked the directions before I left... Somehow I got it into my head that the bar was on 1st and 84th.. or between 84th and 85th. It wasn't... but it wasnt far, so I had to call the guy, tell him I couldn't find the bar, which is so classy. I was 2 blocks south of where I should have been, but it still made me late for the date. Once I arrive and meet my date (who is clearly - and not surprisingly - shorter than he claimed to be), we have a few drinks, talk, laugh. It's fine. It's nothing special. He was nice, we went to dinner after the drinks, but still, there were no sparks. I didn't feel anything for this guy. He walked me to the subway, and that was that.
I am getting really tired of the same date, with just different people. I could have these conversations in my sleep. I go into autopilot sometimes, and just tune the guy out. I can talk about my job, books I've read, my life in general - without thinking about it. Sometimes I snap back into a conversation, and the guy is in mid-story, sometimes related to something I can figure out... sometimes not, and I have to do my best to follow along.
Anyway... what I think I'm coming to is that this serial dating thing is not for me. It's not as fun as it should be. I am not enjoying it as much as I once was. Maybe the defeatist attitude is coming from 3 out of 4 dates this week being less than par. Maybe I'll feel differently once the heat has subsided, and I can enjoy myself on a date without thinking how gross I feel.
Today is a date free day - my only one this week. Tomorrow it's back in the game, renewed and refreshed.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Serial Dating
So recently, I've been referred to, by more than one person, as a serial dater (in fairness I referred to myself this way as well). Which I guess when I face the facts, is true. But I'm enjoying (almost) every minute of it. And in the quest for finding the right person to date... you have to date a lot of people. I just dont waste any resources that are available.
Also, apparently my blog has now become a group effort as of late, and today's commentary will be brought to you by my best friend Debbie and the letters A & C (just because it's so damn hot out.)
Debbie: I was very jealous when I read that Kate was able to blog for Erica. So, now it’s my turn!!! As Erica’s best friend, I have been living vicariously through her exciting dating life! I have created a system of Jewish stars by which I can judge her dates (1 Jewish star being an awful date and 5 meaning “Let’s get married!). Monday night’s “Jury Duty Boy” got 1 Jewish star. Actually, I judged that one as soon as she sent me the text message, “HELP!” I attempted to give her the “fake emergency” phone call, but she wanted to stick out the date for an interesting blog (so all you avid blog-readers had better thank Erica for “taking one for the team”).
Erica is now going to describe last night’s 2 dates (YES…TWO! Two in one night! You go girl!), and I’m going to interpret them for you all (anything in parentheses and italics is Debbie’s inner monologues coming out):
Date #1: I met up with my first date around 6:00pm. He was tall, skinny, and totally my type (he wasn’t a red-head, so I don’t think he was TOTALLY her type, but we’ll just ignore that). Anyway, so we went into a bar and each had a beer, and settled into a booth (Booths are always better than chairs b/c you can play footsies and nobody will notice). I talked a lot about school, movies, and anything else I could think of (This is better than “Jury Duty Boy” since she was actually able to talk on this date!). He was responsive, but I had a really hard time hearing him. I felt like I had to ask “What??” after everything he said (ugh.. don’t you hate that?! It’s like talking to foreigners. You don’t want to offend them, so you eventually stop saying “What??” and just smile and nod). I felt bad about that, but the bar, which was relatively empty when we got there, got pretty loud quickly. So, I didn’t feel like there was a great chemistry between us. He was really nice and we talked for about an hour, but after we both finished our beers, it was time to go…and when I say "we" talked... that's really mostly I talked, he responded. So I was able to go home, grab some dinner and prepare for date #2 (who I nicknamed “Albino Boy” from his J-Date picture)...
Date #2: Date 2 started late. It takes me an hour to get to Astoria via the train, and we were meeting at the beer garden (Excuses excuses! Don’t let her fool you – Erica tends to be late a lot)*. So we met up around 9:30pm, got a pitcher of Hoegaarden (HAHA! There’s a beer with that name?! That’s freakin’ great! I’d like to plant me a garden of hoes! “There some hos in da house!”) and sat outside in the sweltering heat. It would have been an awesome date spot, had it not been a billion degrees (You’re telling me! The A.C. in my office broke yesterday and I’m dying here!!! And it’s not getting fixed until Friday! I think Erica’s blog is the only thing that’s keeping me alive!!!). We ended up splitting 3 pitchers, where I ended up having the equivalent of probably 4 beers, and he maybe 6 or 7 (Lush!). Something I need to really learn: it is NOT ok to get drunk on a first date (Lesson learned? I think not! I guarantee there will be a repeat performance of this drinking and dating problem Erica has..haha). So it's hot, and it's late - why it was still a million degrees at midnight is beyond me (Because we live in NY/NJ, where humidity is our middle name in the summer!). So we decide to go back to his place where it’s cooler (Good idea…can I work out of his place?! It’s probably cooler than my damn office…sorry..I digress). K.. and I know - re: Fish Out of Water - what going back to a guy’s place means, and when I've had 4 beers, my inhibitions are lowered slightly. And did I mention before that this guy was good looking...like really cute? (I don’t see the problem here) So, we're walking back to his place and he decides he needs to make out with me on the street...which is ok, it was late and no one was around and we were just kissing (PDA! AHHH! Next thing you know, Erica will be into voyeurism!). Damn I've become a kissing whore lately. Before this week I hadn't kissed a boy since before I left for Peru... and now... I've made out with 3 different boys in less than one week (Definition of stud – ERICA!). Ok…so I went to his place, we made out, and we both ended up falling asleep. I – thankfully! - woke up around 3:30am, and let myself out. I wanted nothing less than to wake up in a strange place with a strange boy, looking all sweaty and gross from the night before (I still don’t see the problem here). So he was still passed out, and I left, and he was none the wiser - and don’t forget I had an hour on the trains to go from there…not to mention that the trains run MUCH slower in the wee hours of the morning (Wouldn’t it be great if she had run into subway stalker here?!)!!! So anyway, I'll describe him: he was cute - tall, blond hair, blue eyes - if I didn't know better I'd say he was German or Scandinavian even (Albino!!!). He could have been a poster child for the Nazi youth movement had he been around at that time (which I think I told him), and he used to work in theater, doing tech stuff (THEATER?! Wait…why didn’t she mention this before?! I LOVE him now! Anyone who has anything to do with theater is good in my books!), so we talked a lot about that. He works in the fashion industry now and does sourcing for clothing companies (Are we sure he’s straight?). We talked about everything: books, our jobs, theater, the city... it seems like we talked for a long time, but I guess it was only about 3 hours before we went back to his place. Total it was from about 9:30 until 2am - when we both fell asleep.
If either one of them wanted to go out again, I would….definitely. But I'm not going to go out of my way to make it happen.
Debbie’s Final Judgement: Date #1 gets 3 Jewish stars (“So-So” rating). He was a good guy, but the date was short, and Erica could barely hear anything he said! It doesn’t seem like there was too much chemistry. I don’t think we’d kick this dude out of bed, but yeah…he doesn’t have the “Debbie Seal of Approval.” Date #2 gets 4 Jewish stars (“Good” rating). He was cute, fun, and spent a nice amount of time with Erica. Judging from Erica’s lack of complete and total excitement and giddiness, I don’t think he’s anything to write home to mom about. So, it sounds like she had 2 decent dates, but love is not in the air as of yet.
*In my own defense about Debbie saying that I am late a lot - Most importantly, I was on time for the date. What I meant when I said it was starting late was meant in terms of the hour of the date... but thanks Deb.
Also, apparently my blog has now become a group effort as of late, and today's commentary will be brought to you by my best friend Debbie and the letters A & C (just because it's so damn hot out.)
Debbie: I was very jealous when I read that Kate was able to blog for Erica. So, now it’s my turn!!! As Erica’s best friend, I have been living vicariously through her exciting dating life! I have created a system of Jewish stars by which I can judge her dates (1 Jewish star being an awful date and 5 meaning “Let’s get married!). Monday night’s “Jury Duty Boy” got 1 Jewish star. Actually, I judged that one as soon as she sent me the text message, “HELP!” I attempted to give her the “fake emergency” phone call, but she wanted to stick out the date for an interesting blog (so all you avid blog-readers had better thank Erica for “taking one for the team”).
Erica is now going to describe last night’s 2 dates (YES…TWO! Two in one night! You go girl!), and I’m going to interpret them for you all (anything in parentheses and italics is Debbie’s inner monologues coming out):
Date #1: I met up with my first date around 6:00pm. He was tall, skinny, and totally my type (he wasn’t a red-head, so I don’t think he was TOTALLY her type, but we’ll just ignore that). Anyway, so we went into a bar and each had a beer, and settled into a booth (Booths are always better than chairs b/c you can play footsies and nobody will notice). I talked a lot about school, movies, and anything else I could think of (This is better than “Jury Duty Boy” since she was actually able to talk on this date!). He was responsive, but I had a really hard time hearing him. I felt like I had to ask “What??” after everything he said (ugh.. don’t you hate that?! It’s like talking to foreigners. You don’t want to offend them, so you eventually stop saying “What??” and just smile and nod). I felt bad about that, but the bar, which was relatively empty when we got there, got pretty loud quickly. So, I didn’t feel like there was a great chemistry between us. He was really nice and we talked for about an hour, but after we both finished our beers, it was time to go…and when I say "we" talked... that's really mostly I talked, he responded. So I was able to go home, grab some dinner and prepare for date #2 (who I nicknamed “Albino Boy” from his J-Date picture)...
Date #2: Date 2 started late. It takes me an hour to get to Astoria via the train, and we were meeting at the beer garden (Excuses excuses! Don’t let her fool you – Erica tends to be late a lot)*. So we met up around 9:30pm, got a pitcher of Hoegaarden (HAHA! There’s a beer with that name?! That’s freakin’ great! I’d like to plant me a garden of hoes! “There some hos in da house!”) and sat outside in the sweltering heat. It would have been an awesome date spot, had it not been a billion degrees (You’re telling me! The A.C. in my office broke yesterday and I’m dying here!!! And it’s not getting fixed until Friday! I think Erica’s blog is the only thing that’s keeping me alive!!!). We ended up splitting 3 pitchers, where I ended up having the equivalent of probably 4 beers, and he maybe 6 or 7 (Lush!). Something I need to really learn: it is NOT ok to get drunk on a first date (Lesson learned? I think not! I guarantee there will be a repeat performance of this drinking and dating problem Erica has..haha). So it's hot, and it's late - why it was still a million degrees at midnight is beyond me (Because we live in NY/NJ, where humidity is our middle name in the summer!). So we decide to go back to his place where it’s cooler (Good idea…can I work out of his place?! It’s probably cooler than my damn office…sorry..I digress). K.. and I know - re: Fish Out of Water - what going back to a guy’s place means, and when I've had 4 beers, my inhibitions are lowered slightly. And did I mention before that this guy was good looking...like really cute? (I don’t see the problem here) So, we're walking back to his place and he decides he needs to make out with me on the street...which is ok, it was late and no one was around and we were just kissing (PDA! AHHH! Next thing you know, Erica will be into voyeurism!). Damn I've become a kissing whore lately. Before this week I hadn't kissed a boy since before I left for Peru... and now... I've made out with 3 different boys in less than one week (Definition of stud – ERICA!). Ok…so I went to his place, we made out, and we both ended up falling asleep. I – thankfully! - woke up around 3:30am, and let myself out. I wanted nothing less than to wake up in a strange place with a strange boy, looking all sweaty and gross from the night before (I still don’t see the problem here). So he was still passed out, and I left, and he was none the wiser - and don’t forget I had an hour on the trains to go from there…not to mention that the trains run MUCH slower in the wee hours of the morning (Wouldn’t it be great if she had run into subway stalker here?!)!!! So anyway, I'll describe him: he was cute - tall, blond hair, blue eyes - if I didn't know better I'd say he was German or Scandinavian even (Albino!!!). He could have been a poster child for the Nazi youth movement had he been around at that time (which I think I told him), and he used to work in theater, doing tech stuff (THEATER?! Wait…why didn’t she mention this before?! I LOVE him now! Anyone who has anything to do with theater is good in my books!), so we talked a lot about that. He works in the fashion industry now and does sourcing for clothing companies (Are we sure he’s straight?). We talked about everything: books, our jobs, theater, the city... it seems like we talked for a long time, but I guess it was only about 3 hours before we went back to his place. Total it was from about 9:30 until 2am - when we both fell asleep.
If either one of them wanted to go out again, I would….definitely. But I'm not going to go out of my way to make it happen.
Debbie’s Final Judgement: Date #1 gets 3 Jewish stars (“So-So” rating). He was a good guy, but the date was short, and Erica could barely hear anything he said! It doesn’t seem like there was too much chemistry. I don’t think we’d kick this dude out of bed, but yeah…he doesn’t have the “Debbie Seal of Approval.” Date #2 gets 4 Jewish stars (“Good” rating). He was cute, fun, and spent a nice amount of time with Erica. Judging from Erica’s lack of complete and total excitement and giddiness, I don’t think he’s anything to write home to mom about. So, it sounds like she had 2 decent dates, but love is not in the air as of yet.
*In my own defense about Debbie saying that I am late a lot - Most importantly, I was on time for the date. What I meant when I said it was starting late was meant in terms of the hour of the date... but thanks Deb.
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