DATE #13: Mr. Money Bags

Lucky number 13. Cream of the crop, perfect on paper. What girl hasn't dreamed of marrying rich and settling into a life of solitude in the suburbs? Even I've considered it in weak moments...

This guy proposed a walk on the Highline with an ice coffee and good conversation. That was his pitch. His pluses included a $200K+ salary, an apartment in Tribeca (his parents owned), a Jewish bloodline and an affinity for button-down shirts with cuff links. I've always loved a man in cuff links. But there is something about a man who talks about how much his cuff links cost that, well frankly, is a huge turn off.

It was Sunday afternoon and I hadn't heard from him so I thought our date was off. I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond to buy a curtain rod and right after I checked out, he called and wanted to see if I was still free. I should have said no, busy, let's reschedule - but I didn't. So I carried my curtain rod down to Chelsea Market where we met for an ice coffee and that walk on the Highline (which turned out to be let's sit on a bench so I don't have to walk and carry a coffee and a curtain rod and look uncomfortable while trying to look attractive).

And then we spent an hour talking about him. How refreshing, a guy who isn't interested in my glamorous movie career. We talked about his job and he was telling me about his boss and some scandal and how he was anticipating a promotion and a raise (as if he needed to make more). We talked about his Jewish grandmother and her pressure for him to settle down with a nice girl and how hard it was to find a nice Jewish girl in the city and how nice I seemed (if only he knew). I kindly commented on his cuff links, which weren't necessarily my task. They were white and yellow gold stripped and from some expensive brand that lacked for personal taste. I did think it impressive he was wearing a long sleeve button down with cuff links and slacks on a 90degree day but as we talked, about him, it seemed less likely he was dressing to impress me and more that he probably had no personal style and thus wore the same style suit every day.

I looked at him, his big Jewish nose, dark hair and bushy eye brows and thought: "Not even for all the money...."

So as an hour is winding down and I'm looking for a way out, he finally switches subjects and asks what I do. I haven't really heard a word he's said since we discussed the cuff links, I was more interested in the mix of passersby and their looks at me, sitting there, hugging my curtain rod like it's a life line.

I said I worked in film and he didn't inquire further than saying, that's probably cool - as if he'd never seen a movie and didn't care to know what they were like. I excused myself with a "I've had too much coffee and think I have a stomach ache". He didn't seem to mind. He didn't even walk me to the train but shook my hand goodbye right there on the Highline and me and my curtain rod walked away...


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Flirting with the Law

My time is running out! In just a few short weeks I'll hit my deadline and I won't have made my goal! Desperate times call for desperate measures!

I was walking into the subway station at Union Square when I was un-expectantly stopped by a police officer and asked to show the contents of my bag to a group of officers standing at a table nearby. It was a random routine check. Good thing I had a box of tampons falling out of a Duane Reade bag spilling all over the inside of my bag.

I've always had a thing for men in uniform. Not the janitor uniform but a nice military-esque, police, fireman - the authoritative kind of uniform. It's the discipline and power vibe that rolls off uniformed men that can be a turn on. I'm always looking for someone tougher than myself, and it's a bonus if he can wield a gun. Of course I am very aware that not every uniformed man is an independently thinking, intelligent, sexy, gun-wielding super guy, but a girl can always hope.

Of the three officers at the search table, the young, fairly handsome and single (no ring) one steps up to me. I sighed in relief and smiled sweetly as I handed him my bag. I of course then suffered a severe Homer Simpson moment, wanting to slap my head with my hand as he started emptying the bag on the table. I can't believe how much shit I carry. He didn't seem bothered by the tampons, the 3 half-used chapsticks, the half-eaten granola bar... he smiled and said everything was fine and helped me push the crap back into my bag. Our hands briefly touched.

I said thank you and started to walk away, but as I reached in my bag, I couldn't find my metrocard! I went back to the table, looked over and under and it wasn't there. The officer helped me look but then pulled out his own metrocard (or his City-issued one) and swiped me through the "special entrance" gate. I dug my hand back in my bag and pulled out a card.

"Just in case", I said. He winked and I walked away. I'm sure that ended up in the nearest trashcan but what a lovely thought...

DATE #12: Please Stand Up

I went trapezing with a very good friend of mine for her birthday. Our class was at 9am and had a handful of flavorful people. I shouldn't have doubted that a trapeze class would be a great place to meet interesting people and it was decidedly unexpected when two fairly handsome and polite young men joined our class. One of them was married had the ring and baby photos, and actually wasn't very skilled on the trapeze. I was a natural. But his friend, the ring-less one, was both attractive and charming and didn't make a complete ass of himself on the trapeze.

We flirted, we laughed and watched our friends fly and flop in the air. He was applying to med school, smart, interesting - definitely a fine catch and couldn't stop smiling at me. At the end of our class, after group photos and hugs, I decided to be bold and slipped him my business card asking him to email me the group photo - and you know maybe we could grab a coffee. Turned out we both lived in Park Slope (well I did at the time).

We emailed back and forth, then set a time and place to meet for coffee in a new Slope cafe. I'll be honest I was excited, overthinking - could this possibly be a date I want to have? With a guy I might like?

Nope. He never showed. He didn't even call or text or email. I texted him once and didn't push it.

A few days later I got an email - "Hey, sorry about the other day. I have a girlfriend. Should have said that before. And it just seemed wrong to meet you but good luck with everything!"

::::insert a myriad of inappropriate choice words::::

Maybe I'm done with this shit. Who has time in this life to be burned?

DATE #11: The Non-Date, Date

This story starts like most do - almost two years ago on a flight from New York to Cincinnati. I was flying backward to Paris and he onward to California. We chatted the whole flight, exchanged names and became Facebook friends, the kind who never really spoke again.
Flash forward to this most recent February when I started this crazy mission to go on 27 dates in just about that many weeks. And this Facebook friend, unbeknown to me, was actually reading my blog. Sure it didn't happen so easily, he was really going to delete me and then discovered the humor (or patheticness of my mission) and kept reading. Then he reached out and on recent trip to New York, was brave enough to take me out.

We went for coffee and I made the plans to work around me. He didn't seem to mind. When we met up he served me the line "You're more beautiful than I remember." I was thinking, to be honest, it wasn't your looks that I remembered though it might have been the talk of fast cars and California. It was probably one of the most interesting and intriguing conversations I've ever had on a plane where usually I'm too grouchy to even acknowledge the stewardess plopping tiny bags of peanuts on my tray.

We had coffee at Le Pain Quotidien near Bryant Park. I wanted to be outside, it was a beautiful day, but something told me that would be too distracting for whatever we had to say to one another. He told me all about the date he had planned - he was going to take me sailing. Not on the Hudson but, to sail a toy boat on a pond in Central Park but in the end he was too nervous to suggest it. Then we discussed the benefit of a man who can propose a plan and make a decision. He honestly admitted it wasn't his strength. He was too easy going and probably too kind to ever suggest a woman do anything other than what she already had in mind. A part of me wishes he'd just had the courage to demand we go sailing...next time?

Our conversation then continued on the path of all the things you shouldn't say on a first date. We talked about our ex's and about their respective husbands and wives and how strange it is when there's that moment when you're no longer in their lives. And also about the secret meetings for coffee behind a spouse's back just so you can meet their baby or catch up alone and giggle about old times. Sure, it was weird date conversation but quite nice nonetheless.

We talked about how irresponsible it is of all our friends to get married and have babies and about how maybe we're both just too good to be with anyone else. Though he seems to be looking for the one, for the marriage and babies package and that could have something to do with the extra 10 years he has on me, the male biological clock or whatever.

He continuously told me how beautiful I am and how mature, how smart, sophisticated I am... it was sweet if not a little unsettling. He said he would totally tag a women like me but I am essentially out of his league. The fact that he said "tag" proves the case.

Then he tried to give me dating advice, genuinely trying to help me out I think but still...
1) Let the guy decide the date - I would if any guy could!
2) Try not to be so intimidating - as if I could help it.
3) Smile more - not a bad recommendation I guess.

Although I have no romantic interest in this fellow, I think if he lived on the east coast or I on the west, we'd probably be friends - that is at least until one of us got married.

Note

It's been over a month since my last post. My apologies. Between moving, starting a new job, changing jobs, finding a roommate, then finding a new roommate and trying to escape potential stalkers, I've been a little busy.

But coming soon are new posts to wet your appetite.

She's Just Not That Into You

As a girl, I've definitely had the time or two where I've stressed about why some idiot boy hasn't called me after a date or responded to a text message. I always tell myself it won't bother me or I can play that game and ignore them just as well as they can ignore me. But when a cute boy says he's going to call or text and doesn't, it's a pretty standard girl thing to flip out about it for a minute and loose all self confidence and control - that is until you meet the next cute boy and he promises to call.

I always say "I'd never do that", I would never NOT call someone back or ignore a text message....

What am I saying? Hell yeah I would!

One would think that guys could handle it, that if they ignore you, it's okay to ignore them, right?

The Climber (#10) texted me, a couple of days after our lousy 3rd date. I didn't respond. I figured he'd get it.

2 days later. Then he texted me again. I ignored it.

Maybe he thought the third time's the charm. And let me tell you - it wasn't. It was desperation, pathetic-ism. How come he couldn't get the hint? If I'm not responding to you, I'm just not into you! Isn't that the code?

His texts weren't just "how are you?" or "what's up?" they were paragraphs of "Hey, it's a beautiful day. What are you doing? Want to meet me and some friends for brunch on Saturday?" What would give this guy the idea I want to brunch with him AND his friends if I don't event want to respond to his text message!?

After the 5th text I politely responded: "Glad you're well but please stop texting me. I'm really not interested in any kind of intimate relationship right now with you or anyone else. It's nothing personal."
"How many other guys are you dating?"
"27. But I would hardly call us dating"
"Oh, yeah, me too. I'm keeping my options open"
"Great. Good luck. Good bye."

Memorial day weekend he texted me to invite me camping - camping for the whole weekend with him and his strange friends. I considered changing my phone number after that. Some people just never get the hint.

DATE #10: The French Say Goodbye Better

Obviously it's been a little while since I've written, and not for lack of material but rather a struggle to find the right way to express this particular experience.
This ladies and gentlemen is my 10th Date, and of my 10 dates, it is my third (and final) with The Climber (see Dates 6 and 8).

After our 2nd date I realized I felt relatively mediocre about this guy and didn't want to make out with him and definitely didn't want to take him home with me. Which for most people would be a sure sign that no fool would go on a third date, lucky for me I'm not most people though maybe a fool.

I thought, "Geez, you don't spend 9 hours on a date with someone, have a great time, and then suddenly there's nothing there?" I wasn't the only one to think so. All my friends, all of you, thought the same - "What is wrong with this girl!?"

I should know myself well enough to know that my first instinct is usually the correct one and I shouldn't second guess myself but I went on a third date with the Climber.

He wanted me to meet him at the Soho House for drinks and then we'd head to the movie theater to catch a Tribeca Film Fest flick. I was running late, not because I was busy but because I was watching an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on Netflix and wanted to see make sure Buffy defeated the evil snake monster from Hell. She did. And I was late enough not to meet at the Soho House and instead we met at East of 8th, a bar/restaurant next to the Chelsea Cinemas.

I was so emotionally fatigued from watching Buffy save the world (and a major hangover from a previous night of drinking) that I decided not to drink when we met at the bar. Just seeing this guy for a third time, sealed the deal that this was not meant to be. All I had to do was fake nice for the night and it'd be over so I could go back to Netflix On Demand....

I had a ginger ale, he something with vodka; we sat surrounded by sexy Gay men and I think I sensed some insecurity from my date. He talked about his week at work and some swanky celeb party he photographed the night before. I listened to the Gay couple nearest us discuss the decor of their friend's new home in the Bahamas... He tried to touch my hand and I checked a watch that wasn't on my wrist. It was too loud in the bar to talk.

After our brief drinks, we got in line to wait for rush tickets for the Tribeca Film Fest. If you've never gone to a festival screening, the wait is long. To ensure tickets, you really have to stand in line an hour before the film and even then there is no guarantee you'll get a seat. We decided to wait for the French film MICMACS by Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Amelie).

For over an hour we stood in line. He talked and I imagined his head popping off and spinning round a few times, that would be more entertaining than whatever he was talking about. I noticed his iPhone, I've been considering the switch from Blackberry to iPhone for some time (and since have). On his iPhone he had an interesting quote: "Remember you are standing on a rock floating through space".

I thought for a second, that's a nice little quote, but then it hit me another way - what a morbid thing to say. Why would you carry around a constant reminder that you're insignificant? Needless to say, this struck up some mighty conversation, and mighty loud too. I took the side of "Well, I'm not insignificant!" and he took the "We all are!" We argued for about 15 minutes on the significance of being reminded that we're all insignificant - how is that a positive idea? If everyday you were reminded, like an alarm on your iPhone, that you're just a nothing standing on a rock floating in space - what would be the point of life at all? Wouldn't you just find the nearest bridge and jump? He said no, it inspired him.

Obviously a difference in point of view this huge means any relationship is doomed to fail. Which was fine with me. He continued to try and tell me that he just loves me and my ability to stand my ground. I just stood in line silently and watched a lesbian couple make out in front of us and thought, maybe this would be easier if I liked girls.

I probably should have left then but we managed to get the last two tickets for the screening and I really love Jeunet's films so we continued our fun on to the movie. Since we got the last two tickets, we also got the last two seats - metal folding chairs. He was disappointed the folding chairs weren't conducive to cuddling and I couldn't be more thankful.

After the movie (which was fantastic by the way), I should have just been my honest self and just told the poor schmuck I wasn't interested. But I didn't. I said thanks for the movie and slipped away in the train...

Don't worry, my consequences are coming.