Wednesday, December 30, 2009


A couple of years ago, I went on a blind date.
A blind Internet date.
Actually, I went on a couple.

Having moved to New York the year before, I found myself without the safety net of the network I had back home. Long out of college, I also lacked the luxury of hours of forced interaction with my peers - punctuated by keggers to break the ice.

I had hours in an office, sitting at a computer without enough time to run out for lunch let alone socialize in any sort of meaningful way. Plus at my age, I found most of my peers married and many facing the challenge of being new parents - not exactly the happy hour crowd.

So I turned to the Internet - heck I was online all damn day anyhow. Seemed like the logical choice. I joined a dating site and dove in.

I chatted with various men, traded emails and phone calls and after weeding out the seeming obvious nutters, I whittled down the list to a select few candidates that I decided I could meet without wielding pepper spray and insisting the location included the word "precinct."

The first one was the artist from Brooklyn. Online, he had mad game - I may be a corporate girl but I like me some artsy, emo, hipsters with sick biceps. We had tapas and sangria in the east village and although there was ZERO chemistry, we got along famously and I found myself with my first new friend in NY. OK that didn't suck. I got brave and decided I'd try it again.

The next candidate was the fireman. So. Good. Looking. I totally bought into the hot NYC fireman stereotype the second he growled 'hello' to me. He was a gentleman, gallant, fun to talk to, just geeky enough to prevent intimidating me into a shyness induced he seemed like he was digging me. I'd like to say there is a way to look at a woman's ass without making her feel overly objectified and he had mastered this art.

He took me on the coolest first date I've ever had - corn beef sandwich at Katz' deli followed by live band 80's karaoke in the LES - unpretentious fun and something I'd never done - SCORE!!! We're on to date two!

Date two took us to the East Village - walking at night along Thompson Square park, stopping for an egg cream, grabbing a copy of the voice or some such and KABOOM!!

What the...
Someone ought to warn a girl when she jaywalks into hell.

It had a caricature of Osama Bin Laden in it - the Fireman saw it and freaked out. Now don't get me wrong, I have tremendous respect for the men and women who had to dig this city out of the horror that was 9/11, and I get that he lost a lot of friends, but I think if your impulse is to curse everyone out at less than subtle volumes, then perhaps you should get the kind of help that can't be afforded by a chocolate egg cream. Just saying. Wear a sign or something...sheesh.

Not to say that the crazy scared me off cause when he called me to take me out on Date three (and four) I went. However after the outburst (and the subsequent fire safety assessment of my apartment - I failed) I had to call it a day.

Onward! Yeah.

So the next subject shared photos with me that resembled a young Ricardo Montalban. (wait for it...) Mister tall, (he said he was 5'11") dark, (white tux - hair slicked back dark piercing eyes ) and handsome, who was a teacher (aww, he likes kids!) seemed like a dream come true! Wait for it....

I met him on the corner of the block that I lived on - now to be fair, he spotted me first. Probably, because I wasn't looking for Woody Allen. At 5'6" I found myself surprised to be able to see the bald spot on the top of his head, since it was supposed to be 5 inches above the top of mine and I don't in any way resemble a periscope.

And really, he was a dead ringer for Woody Allen. Circa 2009 just to be clear.

To add insult to injury, as we walked to a nearby bar (because I'm too polite to scream and run) he looked me up and down and said to me "you know, I expected you to be more petite. You did say you're half Japanese right?"

Hmm. Clearly this man has no sense of self preservation. He bought the first round - he insisted, so I bought the second. Who knew he was the CHEAPEST DATE ON THE PLANET - suddenly he was so drunk he sprouted four extra arms?? What the ....OKwhoastopitwhatthehellHEY!???

I claimed meetings etc. for the morning, and insisted I had to leave. He insisted he should walk me home... Oh Come ON! Well crap, OK fine gaaah!! Upon reaching the general vicinity of my apartment door (half a block), I turned and thanked him, and stuck out my hand to say good night.

Suddenly he looks at me, and says "what, you're not going to invite me in?" Wait what huh what date were YOU just on??? What on EARTH gave you the impression that tonight was going anywhere near in that direction?? I smiled and tried to be nice (still) saying "I'm sorry, I'm not the kind of girl to invite a man in on the first date." His response? "Fine, I guess I won't be calling you again then." That was the LAST straw.

Still smiling I looked him dead in the eye and asked if he had his phone on him.
He did.
I asked if my number was in it.
It was.
I asked him to pull it up.
He did.

I told him to delete my number, because I didn't want to take a chance that he ever call me again, not intentionally, not accidentally, not butt dialing, not drunk dialing, delete my number and take your short balding ass back to where you came from. He tried to get the last word in saying "well you don't have to be a bitch." "Honey, you haven't seen for 'BITCH' yet.

Since then, I've gone on a couple of dates, some good some bad. Some memorable, some I'd like to forget. Although I haven't met Mister Right yet, I have arrived at a conclusion (largely because a couple of good friends who are IN committed relationships keep telling me and I'm finally buying in to it....);

Dating is a numbers game.

So I have an idea, a team activity if you will, and in the next few days I'm going to organize my thoughts and tell you what it is. Are you ready? 2010 is going to be an interesting year....