Two rainy Friday nights in a row I went out with whom we shall call Princeton. I met this guy buzzing around Bumble. He was super tall, not necessarily my physical type, but there was a dog in the picture. He’s a late 20s finance guy, which is also not my type. I prefer the more creative type that works magic with words or ideas than with numbers and his salary. For the first, rainy Friday night we went to The Supply House for a beverage. Conversation was great because he asked me a ton of questions. He smelled ah-mazing and looked like he stepped out of GQ. His eyes were also a mesmerizing hazel color.

He’s a native New Yorker, Upper East Sider to be exact and his parents still live in the city. He went to Princeton and was obviously intelligent and well spoken. He was a mix of gentleman and Yankee attitude. His demeanor was somewhat arrogant but he was still pleasant in some form so I agreed to go to bar number two which completely contradicted his style and my current perception of him. We went to Jack Russel’s to play skee ball and bet the loser to buy the shot. Needless to say I was putting pickle back shots on my already depleted debit card at the same time he was coming in for the kiss.

The night ended there but it was a solid four hour date with only 3-4 drinks which I appreciated. I don’t want a man that wants to get sloshed on a first date. He walked me home and that was that. I figured if I heard from him great. If not, oh well.

I was surprised the middle of the next week that he reached out and wanted to grab drinks again on a Friday. Friday is prime real estate in the dating world.

On our first date he was proud to share that he bought his first place from an estate sale and currently was renovating it. Impressive for sure since I can barely buy myself a new pair of shoes. After a drink at Brother Jimmy’s (why he selected this place I have no idea, it is God awful when sober) and a second drink at Pil Pil (stepped up the class a bit) he took me to his new apartment. It was completely under renovation and supplies were everywhere but he showed me around this place twice the size of my apartment and it was kind of endearing how cute he was about every nook and cranny. Afterward he lured me to his parents house (luckily they were out of town at their Hamptons house) to show me a picture from his childhood he thought I would get a kick out of.

The parents house was the equivalent of his place he is renovating. Elevator, doorman, the works. However, we went up the service elevator, which I’m sure was a sneaky move to avoid talking to the elevator man. I wasn’t too fond of the decorations in this house and I definitely wasn’t too fond of him trying to take things past kissing in his childhood room. I am not looking to just be physical with guys anymore. My ideas of dating are completely renovated and are designed to end up in a relationship as opposed to a one night stand. I told him I should go and he walked me out, down the service elevator of course. I don’t care if I don’t hear from him again. I think I’ll just close this GQ issue.