Brown Eyes, Blue Personality

After a long run of dates with guys with blue eyes, I stepped outside of the box and went on a date with a brown eyed boy last night from Tinder. He was probably one of the nicest guys I have met. Over 6 feet tall, brown eyes and some brown hair. He is 31, lived in Brooklyn and works in counseling, which naturally had me assuming he was psychologically evaluating me the whole date. I did appreciate that he knew the Insights personality training I recently did at work. I’m Sunshine Yellow and he was my exact opposite color, Cool Blue. Opposites attract perhaps?

The most exciting part of my date with Brown Eyed Boy was probably Jason. The older man sitting next to us at Supply House. I’m surprised this man didn’t give me nightmares. Along with him and the 15 hours of Criminal Minds I watching this weekend, I was paranoid! I got to Supply House before Brown Eyed Boy and sat at the corner of the bar two seats away from an assumed 50 year old man. He then proceeded to scoot next to me and chit chat. He asked if I was there alone. No sir. Male or female coming he asks. Thankfully a male. “Please leave me alone” I keep thinking. I pretend to make a phone call and Brown Eyed Boy finally comes. There was another couple next to us at the bar and this Jason kept harassing all of us. He kept saying Happy New Year’s and cheering us. I was nice at first until he pet my head on his way to the bathroom. Dear sir, I am not a dog. He had asked the bartender for a check so we all assumed he was leaving so we got another drink. I asked the bartender if he was leaving and the bartender said “God, I hope so.” Jason stuck around unfortunately. He proceeded to slur his words and the bartender finally cut him off. My Brown Eyed Boy asked if it was safe to go to the bathroom. Of course, I thought I could hold my own. 20 seconds later Jason was in attack mode. Said something horribly inappropriate to me and was far too close. I said “too close… too close” and he just didn’t get it. The girl from the couple near us came over to me and saved me with a fake smoke break. Brown Eyed Boy definitely thought I left as we watched through the window. Poor guy, like a doe-eyed Bambi. I returned with my blessed new friend that saved me and Brown Eyed Boy and I chugged and got the Hell out of there. God Bless the bartender, too, for only charging us for half our drinks. Go home Jason. You’re drunk. No, I will not have a shot with you.

We went to Five Mile Stone across the other street to have a drink in peace. Discussion included everything from family, work and our band days. I love finding former band nerds, especially fellow brass players. I’ve long retired my French horn but he still plays Trombone from time to time. He has the complete opposite background of me. He is from small town PA and I am from big city Texas. One negative would be his many failed attempts trying to kiss me at the bar. Come on people, let’s me a little more romantic. He definitely fit the “Cool Blue” personality traits from Insights and his voice was very counselor-like. At one point at Five Mile Stone I thought Jason had followed us over there, but it was his mini me with the same thick NY accent that promptly had me turning my head like “whoa.”

I definitely hope to never see Jason ever again but would love to see Brown Eyed Boy for a second date.

Under the Neon Lights

The majority of this date occurred under the blue neon shot glass at Barcelona Bar in Hell’s Kitchen. After the last date with Mr. 1987, I decided I was taking a break until the new year with new dates and I should’ve stuck to my guns. But, Tall T did an excellent job of keeping in touch for well over two months and made an effort to meet up so I obliged. We started chatting on OkCupid in October and our schedules just never really matched up to meet and then I went to FL.

We made plans to meet up on a Monday night at this place called Matt’s Grill in Hell’s Kitchen, his choice. He picked it because he said it was chill and quiet. I saw it as a local pub, not ideal, but was close to my office. Before the date I got a chair massage at the nail salon and felt guilty because I showed up 10 minutes late. I didn’t think the woman would give me a much needed free extra 5 minutes – so I felt guilty but well refreshed when I arrived at the date. Now this was one of those rare first meetings where the guy actually looks better in person than in his pictures, so I was pleasantly surprised. Tall (6′ 3”), blonde hair and blue eyes (I really need to toss a brunette in the mix here for the next guy!) and 32. But, lives in bum f*** Queens. He was definitely on the quieter side and after one drink I had the impression he wasn’t into me. I guess I was wrong because one drink turned into a second drink and us sharing a snack. My second drink was a dirty martini as I was inspired by the dirty martini on the Matt’s Grill menu and also it was a Monday. I appreciate alliteration.

At Matt’s we discussed family, work and all the typical first date conversations. Religion came up as well and he mentioned that he wanted to get back into the Catholic Church. I told him about the Young Adult Mass that would be occurring Wednesday. I didn’t invite him to go with me but said that would be a great way to ease back into the church with the younger crowd and social afterward. Of course he didn’t come last night.

During conversation after we finished sharing a chicken wrap, I mentioned Barcelona Bar across the street and how it is where my coworkers and I will go after work sometimes. He was intrigued and so we went! Upon arriving at Barcelona Bar (a shot bar), I treat Tall T to his first Barcelona shot – a chocolate covered pretzel. Delicious. Little did we know that Monday night is trivia night! I look at this as a super fun first date. Shots, trivia and games. In between rounds of trivia we would play hangman. Games photographed below:

Our team name ended up being “T & A” for our initials (and the dirty reference) to satisfy his team name suggestions that weren’t the classiest. The rounds of trivia included nicknames for drugs, which I’m glad to say that we bombed so I know he doesn’t do drugs. He knew “glass” because of Breaking Bad. I’ll allow that. I knew the other 4 out of the 8: marching powder, grass, lucy and x. Definitely wouldn’t be my first round of choice for trivia for a first date but the other rounds were celebrities, word association and playing of songs to name the artist. Unfortunately, they started a musical round while I was in the bathroom. I heard “Material Girls” and was excited to come back and say “Madonna!” but he was standing there CHEATING with Shazam! NOT OK! You cheat on trivia, I bet you’ll cheat on me one day! RED FLAG. I still made the most of the night and trivia but I was pretty turned off at this point.

We shared two pitchers of Bud Light, or should I say I sipped on one glass while he consumed the pitchers. He definitely got drunk and I definitely remained sober. Interesting turn around here. Tall T became much more into me with each drink he took. He kept grabbing my hand to hold and kept trying to kiss me. All this at Barcelona Bar under the neon blue shot glass. No, Tall T, I will not kiss you under a the neon shot glass. Not ok. He walked me to the subway and I allowed a small kiss goodbye. The yellow NQR signs were more appropriate than the neon blue shot glass sign at least.

In the end, “T & A” did not win in trivia or in love.

“Be the rule, not the exception”

Lines from “He’s Just Not That Into You” couldn’t have been more prevalent in my mind after my date with Mr. 1987. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” he says at the end of what I thought was an incredible date. We had so much in common but enough differences to keep conversation interesting. He was a Republican Catholic (rare find… very rare up here) from New Jersey but looking to move to the Upper East Side in a month. He he is currently working on his Masters (which I feel is a bad time to start dating) and he’s the same age as me (hence the 1987 psuodoname and my current obsession with Taylor Swift’s 1989 album). We met on Coffee Meets Bagel (an app I actually like because you only get one match a day and I believe it is quality over quantity) and actually texted for about two weeks before we met up since we got matched a few days before I left for two weeks in Florida. The two weeks of texting and random chatter to get to know each other those two weeks was great! Not only were his pictures adorable and he was good on paper but the conversation flowed very well. The Sunday before I flew home to NYC we made plans to meet up on Thursday. I didn’t hear from him again until Wednesday night when he confirmed plans. I had a work happy hour planned, which is pretty much just going to a random bar so I suggested starting there and then moving on to our own thing. He was open to it but I later said to nix that since none of my close coworkers were going and I wasn’t in the mood to just hang out with the frat floor of sales guys.

Mr. 1987 suggested we meet at Ilili, which is on W 27th. This place was a great lounge with delicious drinks, of which I only had two. He had to drive once he got back to Jersey so he only had one (another reason why I try to only date in Manhattan – the catching of a bus and then having to drive is not appealing). We spent about two hours together in this lovely lounge, filled with Christmas decorations. He was as adorable as his pics with his blonde hair and blue eyes (so my type!) and suit and tie. He works for the government so definitely a more stringent dress code whereas I showed up in floral leggings and a black sweater with booties. Still cute, nonetheless!

We talked about family, school, dogs, work, etc. I assumed he was a Democrat but I was proven wrong so we got to chat some politics, which I actually enjoy. We discovered we liked the same foods (sushi, spicy), that we both have deceased fathers (a commonality which is very sad to share and we were both very empathetic toward each other) and we both enjoy sports and running. There wasn’t a lull in conversation and there wasn’t any awkward exchanges. The jalepeno hummus he selected may have been too spicy but looking back I now see a lack of spice between the two of us.

He walked me to the subway and we hugged and he said “It was a pleasure to meet you.” Now where did I go wrong? I did leave out one crucial question I did ask him. I don’t see anything wrong with it though, but my friends and family do. Prior to our date, after he agreed to meeting me at my work happy hour, I suggested to keep next Friday open if tomorrow’s date went well and he said “OK deal!” Well, the date was going well so I brought up my work holiday party! My company is extremely chill and fun so I didn’t think this was threatening to ask at all. When I invited him, he said he would let me know in “14 hours.” Not sure what type of answer that is. Just say no, because that type of answer will get you uninvited. Needless to say, I did not hear from him in 14 hours.

Three days later, I’m annoyed. My theory is that if you like someone “so what?!” if they prematurely invite you to a work holiday party after one date? The right guy would’ve appreciated my invite and given me a resounding “yes!” So, I had my friend help me craft a message to him because I felt the need for closure. Here are the exchanges:

Mr. 1987 is just not that into me. Plain and simple. What did I learn most from this? I think it was the fact that I do not like jalepeno hummus. It is just too spicy for my liking.

Basket full of Cheese, Olives and Heartache

What better place to start with a failed “love” story than from the beginning, before I even moved here. Let me preface this story by saying this guy had absolutely no influence on my move here. Many can attest I was already planning my leap of faith. Plus, we stopped talking for a while months before I moved here and made the decision to do so.

It was the Summer of 2012 and I was visiting a college friend with my Biffles from Tampa. After a ridiculously awesome day with friends, I ended up at Jake’s Dilemma on the Upper West Side with my college friend. He left me to go meet up with some of our other friends but I stuck around because I had met “Picnic Guy.” He was tall, blonde hair, blue eyes (I am noticing a trend in my type here with the hair and eye colors…) and he worked in finance down on Wall St. He was with a group of friends and he started talking to me by saying I reminded him of McKayla Maroney from the USA Olympic team. We really hit it off!

After the bar I went back to his friend’s house with him and we made out, that’s it, promise! The next day I was going to the Yankees Red Sox game but he wanted to see me before I left on Sunday. Before I flew out on Sunday, he took me on a picnic at Sheep’s Meadow in Central Park. I appreciated my friend letting me go on a date! She did some damage in Soho while I enjoyed some wine, cheese, olives and PDA in the park.

Once I got back to Tampa, “Picnic Guy” and I would text daily and sometimes even do video chat. I was SMITTEN! I even ignored Tampa boys because I was so hooked on this guy, which was completely stupid of me. Every Taylor Swift Song reminded me of him. I probably could make every song on the Speak Now CD relate to him.

After texting for a few months he ended up coming to Tampa in October for a bachelor party. This is where things went from completely perfect to completely awful. The bachelor party was going on a deep sea fishing party and since he claimed he got sea sick, him and I had a beach day! It was a perfect afternoon at the beach just relaxing and enjoying each other’s company in the sun. My crush grew even more! After some sunshine and playful flirting in the water we went back to the bachelor pad condo where I felt it was appropriate to accept his moves to take things further. We had been talking everyday for months. Of course, looking back, I realize how much I was played. Of course the talk of meeting out when the boys were out one night in South Tampa did not happen because they ended up at a strip club and bringing strippers back to the condo (which, I find absolutely disgusting). He drunk dialed me at 5 a.m. that night and told me about their pimp getting in a fight with one of the boys but who has time for that? I saw him one more time while he was in Tampa, which included me having to awkwardly meet the whole bachelor party (did not realize this upon my going over there and would not of gone had I known because I’m not about crashing a bachelor party – I respect the tradition (not the strippers) and boys time) and the boys, and I do mean BOYS, taking my phone in a room and having a photo session with their balls and behinds. I’m surprised my camera lens didn’t crack on my phone!

After he got back to NYC the conversation faded away and was completely gone by Halloween. This lead to me hysterically crying over him in my Monster costume and drunk dialing and yelling at him. I felt he deserved it. I felt played. And, I felt like I had a lot of vodka. No denying I had my crazy moment. Don’t all girls?

Fast forward to the Summer of 2013. Fate brought “Picnic Guy” and I back together on my third day of living in the city. And by fate, I mean my texting him that I had moved here. I made a point to not be too physical with him, and even told him I wanted to take things slow and date to see what happens. We hung out about once every two months or so. Unfortunately, all our meetings mostly included whichever apartment I lived in at the time or his. We did have a nice date on the Upper West Side (and by nice I mean Brother Jimmy’s so don’t get excited) and then for his birthday in September he ventured out to my studio apartment in Astoria. I got him a bottle of Tito’s Vodka, which we drank before going out for a nice Italian dinner, which he paid for. Happy Birthday.

I ventured to his place in Hell’s Kitchen (so appropriate as our relationship had gone to Hell in a hand basket) a few times throughout the year as well. He kind of became my DD (Designated Dick). It wasn’t until we were out in his neighborhood at Rumor’s where I tried to bring up the dreaded “talk.” He was upfront and said he didn’t want a relationship (or he was already in one…). A 35-year-old man that owns an apartment in NYC and has a stable job doesn’t want a relationship. Scratch your balls on that!

I started to get bored with him over the next few times we hung out and then when he had to move to Jersey when he was renovating his apartment, conversation definitely got sparse. This Halloween I texted him to see if he wanted to come meet up since I was going to be out in his neighborhood. If anything we grew a friendship over this time and it would’ve been nice to see him. He never made it out to the bars of course, but insisted I come over. I definitely did not want to sleep with him and definitely did not want to pay for a cab or surcharged Uber back to the Upper East Side (too intoxicated and too late for the subway). Plus, he had recently renovated his apartment so I wanted to check it out. I went over at 3:30am, his place looked amazing for sure! He wanted a kiss so I obliged that, and that was it. I then proclaimed how tired I was so proceeded to pass out and in the morning when we woke up I was actually a bit stuffed up from his excessive humidifier so I used that as my way out right away in the morning. I took my cupid wings from my costume and flew on out! This was the second time I stayed over without sleeping with him and I am going to make it the last.

This has been going on for almost 2 1/2 years and he is now 35. In the beginning, I was so into him that I had us dating in my head but the more we hung out the more I realized this was just a “special friend” situation, DD. I changed my attitude 180 degrees on him when he actually took me out for a drink at Rumors as mentioned and he stated how he did not want a relationship. It’s OK “Picnic Guy,” I understand that you just never wanted a relationship… with me.

Good Date. Bad Timing.

Saturday I took another arrow from OkCupid and went out with another musician. This time, a part-time drummer and future full- time doctor. He wants to be a pediatrician. Those who know me know my dislike for children. Props to him for wanting to deal with crying kids all day. He was an average height, blonde hair, blue eyed 26-year-old from a big Greek family. Oldest of six! Another one good on paper! Our date was at Le Parisian in Kips Bay. Adorable little French brunch place.

But, remember he is a “future” doctor and not currently one. I appreciate the ambition and definitely a desirable career but I have had many friends go through their residency and fall off the face of the Earth. Hence, prefacing this date as “good” but with “bad” timing. He doesn’t even know where he will be doing his residency, which starts in six months, so I’m 100% skeptical to get involved as more than friends with this one. Just trying to steer clear of future problems better than Captain Smith of the Titanic.

Overall, conversation was enjoyable enough to continue onto Cask next door for one more beverage before going our separate ways. I had a bag of purple pom poms and college football to watch. Priorities folks. I think my favorite part of the conversation was when we both discussed how our Grandmothers would cook lamb and the different ways to cook it. Then he lost his train of thought and I just rambled “Mary had a little lamb” and “Lambchop” references. He said that is a tendency of schizophrenia. I was just playing some word association to help him regain his train of thought. I am completely sane but it is still funny though. He tried to kiss me at the bar. I appreciated the initiative but I didn’t feel the moment was right for a “first kiss” at a bar ar 3:30 in the afternoon. Cheesy sounding enough that I should have had some cheese with my wine at Cask I suppose. If he asked me out again I would definitely consider, but proceed with caution. He actually will be in the same city as me over the weekend after Thanksgiving so he mentioned meeting up there. We will see how the schedules match up and if there is a second date with “Dr. Drums.”

Starting this weekend, I will be in the Sunshine State for two weeks and then Christmas is here before you know it. I personally am annoyed when someone takes me on a date before they leave for an extended period of time so I plan on extending common courtesy to the male population for now. Tis the season to put dating on the back burner and cookies in the oven instead. Holiday cheer will be maintained by some entertaining stories I have accumulated from my first year of dating in NYC. Perhaps have the sugar cookies already made though because there is nothing sweet about these stories.

Out of Tune

Looks like Jazz Man and I won’t be making beautiful melodies together after all. The Friday night date didn’t happen, which is 100% ok. I was in Astoria having dinner with my good friend “Coco” at Marketa and Jazz Man was finishing up a performance in midtown. I was running about 30 minutes behind our scheduled 9pm time and he told me he had to head back to New Jersey by 11 in order to catch the last train. This would just give us about an hour and a half for date time.

This just turned me off and also the two pitchers of Sangria Coco and I had had turned me pretty lit up, so I canceled on him. I finally got those tacos, but from my former love, The Taco Truck, in Astoria and went back home.

Jazz Man wasn’t really my type in all actuality anyway. Yes, he was a bigger man but he was insecure about it. It is one thing to be a bigger person but still maintain confidence. It is another to be insecure and clearly be doing nothing about it. He kept asking throughout the course of our conversations “why is a girl like you talking to me?” Because I like your personality? Which, I did until the insecurities surfaced. I also appreciate a man who takes care of himself. I don’t need a six-pack but please respect your body. I’m glad it ended nicely with me saying New Jersey is geographically undesirable instead of saying his body is sexually undesirable.

While we are still in Jersey, please see my most recent OkCupid message from a real winner, a 33-year-old Adam in Hoboken, and my sarcastic responses. I promptly blocked him after sending the last message:

What have I re-learned here? Stay away from the Jersey boys. Please keep your arrows pointed in Manhattan, Cupid.

Thirsty Thursday

It was a rainy Thursday night in NYC and typically I would’ve called it a night after my friend’s charity event at The Royal in the East Village but Tinder “A” just looked so cute and the conversation was enlightening enough for a spontaneous beverage. Thank God I only agreed to one drink as he looked NOTHING like his pictures when he walked into the Alphabet City speakeasy, Pouring Ribbons. The bar was adorable, he was not. This was like Jonah Hill walking in, instead of Paul Rudd.

The conversation was bearable and he wasn’t horribly unattractive but I was turned off by his lack of looking like his pictures and then even though he was eight months younger than me, he looked eight years older than me. He had just gotten off work. Finance industry of course, and showed up in a suit. But, looked five years old and fifty pounds heavier than his Tinder pictures. #tinderfail.

Upon being asked if I wanted a second glass of red wine, I politely declined and legitimately blamed my juice cleanse I had done earlier in the week for making me a tad tipsy, which I was. I should have just gone home prior to this because I got stuck on the L train due to a passenger walking in the subway tunnel. “If you’re going to kill yourself don’t do it on my time,” said a disgruntled passenger in my subway car. It was a sensitive night, I suppose.

The night still felt young for me. I had been talking to this one guy, Jazz Man, for a few days and he had initially invited me out for his post concert party for Thursday night but I respectfully declined as I felt that was a little much to meet him and his fellow orchestra and show members right away. So after surviving the suicide L train and taking a Local 4 train (rough … I’m taking the MTA subways not working in my favor that neither of these guys are meant to be) I met up with Jazz Man after his party. His idea.

We met on OkCupid initially and had so much in common. Musicians, Catholics, close to family etc. I also appreciated his responsiveness in messages and questions. I “Wow’d” him with my questions of “alto, tenor or bari” when he told me he played the saxophone. Little did he know I played the French horn for 12 years and jazz trumpet for six years. I met him out at The Jeffrey on E 60th with one of his friends and we had a good time over a drink. The bar closed early, around 2am, so we headed out with plans to meet today, Friday. We shall see if I follow through as I’m obviously tired from being out late for Thirsty Thursday and I’m not sure Jazz Man is my type. Besides music, we may not have much more in common. At least he was well represented in his pictures on OkCupid and I didn’t get catfished twice in one night. Looking back, I should have just gone to Otto’s Tacos for a fish taco instead of the two dates.

Major-ly Married

Last night I had this dream validating why I haven’t heard from “Major-ly Married.” In this dream I discovered he was in town and I found a marriage license in his apartment. The dream was so vivid, there was a lot of yelling and I feel like it provided closure and the cutting loose of my hopes from hearing from him again.

I had two solid dates with this guy the end of October. He definitely was good on paper. A Major in the military, 32 years old, close to his family, got his doctorate from a pristine University in Europe and now a professor at a University in NY state. I come from a military family so his background definitely intrigued me and I appreciated he was from below the Mason Dixon line. He was very formal, articulate, educated and endearing. He also lives in a condo building on Central Park West directly across the park from me. Walk out his door and there’s Central Park. Classiest #walkofshame ever.

We met on OkCupid and his first line to me was regarding how I say “y’all” and he says “sir” and how both of us get looks here in the city using these terms. After a few messages exchanged he asks for me number and then actually CALLS. Now this is rare for a guy to call. Rare like getting a taxi in the rain on 42nd St. kind of rare. Once we finally touch base we have a great conversation (he had that Southern twang so I was hooked), realize we are both free THAT night so we go out. So, “Major” ventures across Central Park to meet me at a tapas place, Soujourn, on the Upper East Side. He was adorable when I walked in. Tan sweater over a button up, probable about 5’9”, blonde hair and blue eyes. Just my type. We had great conversation and he was such a gentleman. I was smitten and even prematurely texted my Ginger Friend that I could marry him. He had two glasses of wine and I enjoyed a glass of wine and then was craving a dirty martini. But, ordered it with Tito’s Vodka (Texas represent) and the bartender delivered it as a “Dirty Tito.” Love. After almost an hour and a half he mentioned how he had some friends from when he lived in Germany in town and he didn’t want his night to end with me so he invited me to come with. I wasn’t too keen on meeting friends right away but he was insistent.

So we took a cab to a German beer hall in midtown. It was very chill and I chatted with one of his good friends who was praising his friend and what a good guy he is. After an awful grapefruit beer (I commend him for getting me something fruity) he feels pretty bad for taking me to a beer hall so we take a cab to the Upper West Side to Burke and Wills Speakeasy. Casual ploy to get me on his side of the park – sneaky bastard. This Speakeasy is amazing! I had the best cocktail ever – salt and pepper vodka martini with a tomato in it. Purely delicious. I highly recommend it. Then after the Speakeasy, I was easily persuaded back to his place, the aforementioned great condo building and studio apartment within.

That was a Thursday. Saturday, I CALLED him after a victorious TCU football game and invited him out with my friends. Hey, I met his. He can meet some of mine. I was vague as to where we were going, just said he should join us in the East Village. Well, we ended up at a K-Pop Karaoke bar in the East Village. The fact that I invited a guy to sing karaoke with me gives and idea on the amount of beverages I had indulged in during the game. Lo and behold, Major showed up! I felt we had a great time! He even sang some songs. Definitely a Bass singer. Went well with my Soprano self. Surely, I was intoxicated with vodka and likeness for him. After we got back to his place (where he made me what he claimed is one of George W. Bush’s favorite drinks) and discussed politics, family and life, we both expressed “I like you.” This was adorable and I thought finally, a man who can express feelings and also the fact that we shared mutual feelings was blissful and rare.

This was all three weeks ago. What’s the latest? Nothing. Absolutely no word from him. I called him that Sunday and no answer. He didn’t seem like the type of guy not to acknowledge a call. We texted briefly on Halloween and the Saturday after. I dressed as OkCupid for Halloween and on our first date he was interested in my costume, so I shared it with him. Saturday was two brief texts about college football and notta. In his defense, Major told me during our very first phone call that he felt back because he was going to be leaving for a few days starting the Tuesday after we first met, Oct 28. He stated he was going to Virginia and then to Europe. When we bid farewell I wished him a good, safe trip. We kissed goodbye and parted ways. I walked through Central Park home and figured we would keep in touch. After all, he SAID he liked me, right? And, I really liked him and was looking forward to seeing where things would go.

So, that is my theory in all this? I believe there is another woman. Perhaps even a wife. Major is major-ly married in my mind. When something is too good to be true it usually is. Also, as part of my theory, he is in the military. Men in the military typically are settled down before 32. Also, when thinking about it, his studio apartment was not personalized. No pictures of people, and very basic. Either his personality was as vanilla as his decor and “certain skills” or it was a temporary living arrangement. My thought, is the latter, and that he has a wife, fiance, girlfriend in Virginia or even back in Europe. True or not, I have not heard from him and I definitely refrained from contacting him after the college football text conversation. Then, last night, I had that dream.

Perhaps my karaoke singing sent him away. But, even if he is legitimately single, this is easy for me to move on from anyway. To quote Candace Bushnell with Samantha Jones from “Sex and the City” – “You know what they say. Good on paper. Bad in bed.” Amen, Samantha. Amen.

Tinder is Red, OkCupid is Blue …

Finding love was the last thing on my mind when I moved to New York City in the Summer of 2013. I moved here on a one way flight with three suitcases, a one month sublet and nine interviews in hopes of landing the start of my career. The reason “love” was the last thing on my mind was because every time I would visit NYC years prior I always found someone – a weekend fling you could say. It wasn’t until I moved here and actually got into a dating groove I realized the allure of me to these guys when I visited was that I did not live here and that I would be gone in a few days. Hence me not really hearing much from them once I returned back below the Mason Dixon line.

I look at New York City dating as walking through a candy store. You want a little bit of everything and five steps away is something that may be a little bit better. There are thousands of potential bachelors and bachelorettes in this city so the dating easily becomes a #grassisgreener mentality. So why settle on one bachelor when there are thousands at our fingertips? Literally, and for free, thanks to apps like Tinder, OkCupid, Coffee Meets Bagel, etc. But, now that I am settled in my career and my Upper East Side apartment I no longer want to be strolling through this bottomless candy store and looking at profile after profile. I’m in no rush and am content being single in the city, but it would be nice to have someone bring me a box of chocolates with a bottle of red wine to enjoy this upcoming winter with and see where things go.I’m not out looking for my husband, but I’d be lucky to find that one man at the same place in his life to share experiences in this amazing city.

Until then, I’m filtering through all the “NO’s” and they have no lack of entertainment value for me to share. So, grab some vino or a dirty martini and enjoy my dating experiences as I swipe my way through New York City with online dating apps and the occasional public transit encounter. Cheers!

the-dirty-martini

Drink Pray Swipe ©

one city. all dates. ©