Okay, so I've taken a bit of a breather from my incessant bitching about being single in the city because I was actually having a little bit of luck on the "scene". Clearly the fact that I'm back on my blog "The Island Where Women Go to Die Alone" might give you some inkling that things didn't work out as I'd hoped..... but at least I have this little forum to rip my recent Mr. Wrongs a new a**hole or at least wax poetic about "what could have been" as I scratch my head wondering why it 'aint.
Whilst I have still yet to catch you up with my present day dating life (so so many past horror stories yet uncovered), I'm going to just skip ahead to my most recent conundrums--- after all, I'm still kinda smarting from them so it might help me to air my grievances. It might be entertaining for you, at the very least.
A few months ago.... 3 exactly (and I know this because my 3 month membership JUST expired)
my co-worker and friend, who recently got engaged to a brilliant and lovely woman he'd met on nerve.com had talked me into giving it a whirl. It's an alternative to match.com for those on either coast (as I think it's only available in NY and Cali) and needless to say, I jumped at the chance to try something new. If my friend, a confirmed bachelor at 42 was getting hitched, hell, maybe luck was on my side.
Let me just say, that I met exactly 3 men in my 3 months on nerve (all 3 were 6'4 so at least I got to put my high heels to good use). I received many more emails but these were the 3 that I chose to go out with. In all honesty.... I prefer quality to quantity, and I've gotta admit.... these guys were quality--- but that's not going to stop me from ripping on them and/or getting my rocks off by belittling them on my lowly little blog. It's not like they'll ever see this..... I HOPE! ;-) And, let's be honest, my idea of quality is a little shaky to say the least.
Nerve Bachelor # 1: The Architect; Tapas ends in an "S" for a reason!!!!
Boy, was he a dream boat. He was actually the reason why I signed up in the first place. Yes, my friend had talked up the site but it wasn't until I laid eyes on his picture that I signed over my credit card. He was, and I'm not even kidding, a hotter Matt Dylan with light brown hair and green eyes and 6'4!! SO dreamy AND he actually wrote me a sweet emailed within literally like 2 days of my signing up!! It's fate, I thought. (I can't tell you how many times I think that though, so fate begins to kinda feel like an everyday thought when you are a romantic such as myself, living in a city of seemingly missed opportunities of the heart).
We played "email tennis". That's kind of how I think of the beginning stages of internet dating... just like tennis--- to and fro. You just have to wait til they serve up an invite.... which he did.
It was literally for the day before Valentines day...... Feb. 13th, a Saturday night. He asked me what I wanted to do. This is always awkward, in my opinion. I prefer if the guy has a game plan before he calls you the day of. I, myself, get all meshuggeneh when they want me to make the plan because I don't like to plan in general, AND I have no idea how much they are looking to spend. "Let's do something casual" I say..... knowing full well that on the night before Valentine's day, every restaurant in the city will be a Prix Fix menu & very expensive.... AND too much pressure for a first date! "We don't need rose petals strewn about on our table" I joked, "We haven't even met yet!".
He mentioned a Tapas place not far from Union Square. "Great!" I said, "See you there!!"
Wooooohoooo, I was so excited. I hadn't been on a date in quite some time. I'd been busy blogging to you all about my failed past dates, but until this date it had been many many months since I'd been out to dinner with a new man.
I love that whenever I tell my parents that a date is taking me to a "Tapas" restaurant they both maniacally rant into the earpiece on my cell phone ,"TOPLESS???" (yes they both talk on the land line together just like the Seinfelds). This has happened more then once, I kid you not. What?? Tapas are trending you know. "Yes, mom and dad, my recent date has decided to take me to a topless strip club on our first date, is that not alright?" I usually say wittily.
I decided to look super hot since I hadn't been out in forever. You know how that goes. I wore a super tight belted black sweater dress with liquid leggings and 5 inch boots... and a bib ribbon necklace to add a bit of class. I hopped out of the taxi and saw him sitting in the window. HOLY CRAP, was he hot!!! I was SO excited that he looked exactly like his pic which looked exactly like Matt Dylan!! I nursed the first drink (as per usual) enjoying the conversation. When he got up to use the men's room I even texted my girlfriend a smiley face... it was going that well. WAS is the operative word.
After about an hour of nursing my chardonnay... I literally took that last little sip at least 10 times, no joke, he says "oh, would you like to grab a table, are you hungry?" Ummmm, I kinda thought that was why we were meeting at a Tapas place but whatevs. "Sure", I say.... but at this point there was a long list & we now had about an hour wait for a table. Silly me, I thought he had put our name in before I got there. Finally, he asks "Would you like another drink?"
"YES!!!!!!! please.... thanks". Now, I'm not one who enjoys when a guy is obviously trying to get my drunk by buying me drink after drink but I really don't like having to fake like I'm drinking imaginary wine while I suck the very last drop from my glass over and over again.
I nurse the second chardonnay knowing now that the next one might be few and far between. Finally they take us to our table. Now, I will never, REPEAT: NEVER go on a first date any where near or around Valentines day ever again!!! It was a sea of red-topped wearing, googley-eyed love birds, and quite frankly, it was making me kind of ill. The only way to expose yourself to that kind of romantic bliss is to actually be feeling it yourself, kinda like second hand smoke. I only want to smell a cigarette if I actually get to smoke one too.... you get my drift.
Anyhooo, at this point, I am still enamored with my 6'4 architect and enjoying the date, but that is all about to change, very quickly....
The waiter hands us both a menu to which I open and start perusing. Yum, everything was looking sooooo delish!! At this point, 2 hours into the date, I was famished. "Do you like chorizo?" he asks? "Yes, I love it!!" I respond.
"Because, they have really good chorizo and it's really filling because they bring bread with it" he adds.
"Umm, okay".
The waiter comes back over and my date orders the chorizo tapa and tells the waiter that will be all. The waiter collects our menus. WHAT?? I am thoroughly confused, I think to myself... doesn't TAPAS have an "S" on the end for a reason?? They are small plates, you are supposed to order a few of them!!! And this guy is 6'4--- meaning, he can probably eat a lot of chorizo.
Red flags are a flyin' at this point. He's talking about how poor he is, how the economy has effected his work... or lack there of. He basically sounds like he is barely scraping by--- just what every girl wants to hear on the first date. He also goes on to say how hard it has been for him to get laid, basically. Eww, this guy is really starting to gross me out.
After what seems like an hour at the table ordering only one small plate of chorizo much to the waiter's chagrin, I offer the idea of me buying a nightcap up at the bar.... I always feel bad for taking up the table space if we are not going to order any more food (and at this point, I'm dying for another glass of wine).
We sit up at the bar for one more, which I bought... and then it was the bartender's turn to keep asking us if we needed anything else. "No," he said repeatedly "we're fine, thanks!" without even asking me if I did. At this point, the bar was getting crowded and I felt badly taking up her space without ordering anything so I suggest we go somewhere else. He suggests a cup of coffee, not my typical preferred beverage for a Saturday night at midnight, but clearly he was hell bent on only spending $1.50 more on our date.
We head to a diner where we proceed to talk for another hour over coffee. At this point, I've had it. I don't care how hot you are.... if you mention how poor you are one more time I'm going to scream!!! And note to men (even hot ones) all over the world: please please please don't even try to take a girl out if you truly can't afford it. It's just awkward for everyone. I haven't even gotten to the worst part yet!!!!! After I paid the diner bill... we went outside and in an awkward state of dementia I suggested we split a taxi uptown. He lived about 30 blocks north of me but he could drop me at 59th, I said.... forgetting that I'd have to walk another 3-4 avenues home (we were driving up Park Ave. and I live at 1st) at 1:30 in morning all by my lonesome in 5" heels.......... we jumped in the cab.
"I was just going to take the subway but great idea" the oaf says.
After an annoying 30 block jaunt, I pull out $7 fully expecting him to rebuff my offer of cash, but what does he do?? He takes it!!!!!!! And let's me walk a half a mile home to get raped and sodomized while he comfortably gets dropped off curbside.... and my $7 covered the bulk of the ride!!!!!!!! I was FUMING!! He actually said, we should do this again sometime to which I kind of grunted an unidentifiable answer. It wasn't a yes or a no and I was comfortable with that.
I cried my whole walk home (mostly 'cause my boots hurt) thinking of how pathetic I was. I didn't think in a MILLION gazillion years that going out on a date the night before Valentine's Day could actually make the "day of love" be even sadder and more lame than it was already setting out to be but I was wrong. At this point, it was Valentine's Day, and I felt like just about the loneliest girl on the planet. Looking back, I am giving myself a hug. It's these types of situations that make us stronger, and I'm convinced will make me hold on to love and truly value it once it is finally bestowed upon me!!
ps. Come to think of it, it was this VERY date that got me started blogging about my trials and tribulations of dating in this city. If you don't laugh, you'll cry--- as my mom always used to say!
