How D (Sorta) Got Her Groove Back

First of all, if you ever have the opportunity, go to Iceland. Seriously, do it. If you don’t find it to be stunningly beautiful, you are dead inside.

Second of all, I leave the country for 11 days, and all sorts of crazy, awesome shit goes down at home.  We won an award! We gained 7 new twitter followers! I suddenly became desirable again on OKC and HAW after a drought and months of this:

Isn't there anybody that loves me

                                                                                                   Source: Crushable

I received multiple messages on OKC containing 1 or more complete sentences! 5 guys were interested upon viewing one of my date ideas on HAW and messaged me! Match continued to serve no purpose other than to steal my money and send me e-mails suggesting ways it could steal more of my money! Ok, that last one isn’t actually awesome, but it was oddly comforting – it was proof I wasn’t in some alternate universe. I took all of these positive developments as proof that traveling is the greatest and I should do it even more often than I already do.

But back to my dating developments… I was getting my groove back!

Since I had limited access to wi-fi while away, I was able to respond to messages occasionally. This is where things went a little off track with some of the promising gentlemen. Let’s start with HAW.

First, a crash-course in How About We for those who are unfamiliar with it. Profiles are short and sweet – some demographic info and quick responses to specific prompts (e.g. a story you should remind me to tell you on our first date, I secretly want to be). Then, you post date ideas.

 HAW samples

Users peruse the date ideas and if they see one they like, they open up the date and have two choices: “Message Him/Her” or “I’m Intrigued.” 

HAW - date example

“Message Him” is pretty obvious – it opens up a blank message and you type out your most charming, witty message and hope for the best. Clicking “I’m Intrigued” sends the other user a generic message that says “I saw your Publick House date and I’m intrigued.” It’s the equivalent of liking someone on OKC or winking at someone on Match. The lazy approach to letting someone know you’re interested, and/or the shy person’s way of reaching out.

So, one of my proposed date ideas involves night skiing locally. I got a personalized message from M who ultimately told me to let him know when I was home and we’d set up a ski date. Great right? Well I returned, sent him a message, and got no response in that thread. Rather, he sent me a separate, independent “I’m Intrigued” message 16 minutes later. I don’t know what to do with that. I know you’re intrigued. We already established that. In fact, we already established that we would make plans to go skiing. So why are you ignoring my attempt to actually make said plans, whilst simultaneously sending me messages coyly telling me you’re intrigued BY THE VERY DATE WE ALREADY SET UP?!

That was Wednesday afternoon. I still haven’t figured out what to do about M.

Another guy responded to the same skiing date idea. This guy simply clicked “I’m intrigued.” I checked out his profile, and though he looked vaguely familiar, I brushed it off and responded.

2014-02-06 13.27.23

Ok then.

that escalated

                                                                                    Source: GIFBAY

Side note: I’m obsessed with that gif. I laugh hysterically every time I see it. Ok, back to the regularly scheduled programming.

Setting aside the fact that he called me hun (which – DON’T), he starts off with a nonsensical response. What do you mean “what?” You fucking messaged me. It’s literally 2 messages up in the thread. What is confusing about my response? And when I don’t respond in a timely fashion according to his standards (3 hours, 46 minutes, and NOT A MINUTE MORE), he accuses me of bothering him. Again, you messaged me buddy. It was then, looking at his smiling profile pic next to that terrifyingly aggressive message, that it clicked. He WAS familiar. He’s nylon guy. Shudder.

Over on OKC, I exchanged a few messages with R, who pretty quickly asked if I’d like to make plans when I returned. My kinda guy! I said I would love to. I got back late Tuesday night. Wednesday morning he contacted me to see if I had made it home safely. Very sweet. Then he dropped this bomb on me:

2014-02-06 23.19.24

2014-02-06 23.19.34

I don’t even know where to start with that. For the sake of not being a total asshole on the internet, I’ll simply say that I did not find that poem charming or sweet.

Against my better judgment, when R asked for my number I gave it to him and continued to entertain the idea of going on a date with him.

text with R #1

Oh christ – not another movie date.

text with R #2


That last comment is teetering on the brink of needy. Throwing an lol at the end doesn’t make it less needy. And that frowning winky face – what the fuck is that even supposed to convey? 

I forge on though, despite the warning bells going off in my head.

text with R #3

STOP WITH THE VALENTINE’S THING. It’s so desperate sounding. At this point, mid afternoon on Wednesday, I feign a meeting and tell him I’ll talk to him later.

Thursday morning I wake up feeling refreshed after a good, long night’s sleep, see CC for the first time since returning and get a big smile from him, and get into work to a desk completely empty of a particular case. I’m feeling fantastic. So I decide to give R another chance.

text with R #4

Umm? Say what? Tuesday was your suggestion. But ok.

text with R #5

A little while later, he gets back to me.

text with R #6

This was completely befuddling to me. I mean, firstly, I had told him I was available Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights. So what made him think I was available mid-afternoon? Not to mention that he’s aware that I’m a lawyer – which is pretty typically a Monday through Friday 9-5 job. Whilst still processing the above, he follows up with a picture of himself and this:

text with R #7

Even if you are joking (I presume that’s what Jc means), coupled with some of the other shit you’ve said (::cough:: valentine’s day ::cough::), I’m getting the impression that you’re extremely needy. And I don’t do needy. A) I don’t have the patience for it. B) If you’re that needy yourself, how are you ever going to field my 11:34 p.m. phone calls that I’ve got a piercing, radiating pain in my left mid-thigh and remember when I fell on my left knee a few weeks ago – IS THIS A BLOOD CLOT ON THE MOVE? AM I ABOUT TO DIE IN A SNOW AND ICE COVERED MBTA PARKING LOT IN SUBURBAN MASSACHUSETTS? Because, shit like that happens frequently when you’re a part of my life. That is a verbatim transcription of the shrill phone call my father received last night. And that saint of a man (along with my 3 EMT friends who also frequently field my hypochondriac freak outs) needs a break dude.

But I’m still feeling high on the freedom from that case and the 3 Kinder bars I ate at lunch (God bless you and your delicious chocolate confections Europe), so I keep going with the Poet.

text with R #8

I realize at this point that not only did he think we were planning a weekday, mid-afternoon date, but he also thought this date was happening in Wrentham. Despite the fact that we had established we would both be in Boston on Tuesday. His complete lack of ability to grasp time and location based on previous discussions snaps me out of my sugar high. This guy is not going to work out. Just to be sure, I ask:

text with R #9

Yup – this guy needs to go. Between the poem and the valentines day thing and his incompetence, I can’t. I was going to need to let R go. Tomorrow. I’m a procrastinator at heart.

This morning, I was all set to say goodbye to R and let this outrageously long post fly. But before I could click Publish, R wanted to know why I had changed my mind:

text with R #11

Yeah – I definitely made the right choice.

Oh, and just for good measure, I was propositioned late last night on the orange line after grabbing a couple drinks with a friend after work. By a guy who I presume is a low level drug dealer or pimp based on the enormous ball of wadded up cash he pulled out of his jacket pocket.

I’m in A groove, but I think it’s the wrong one…

Gay or Jewish?

Before you get offended by the title of this post, please remember that I’m Jewish, and we all know that, as long as you’re part of a certain cultural or religious group, than you can make fun of them

My girlfriends and I have been playing the gay or Jewish game for years. It’s rife with stereotypes about men, and masculinity, and gays, and mommy issues, but unfortunately, it’s a real dilemma we face. Let’s take the classic example of Jeffrey Garten, husband of one of my idols, the Barefoot Contessa. They’ve supposedly been together for 40 years, but take a look at this clip:

Confusing pieces of evidence:

1) Nice outfit, stylish watch: This guy presses his shirts and rolls his sleeves to 3-quarter length. And he is about to get into a tent. Now, most men I know don’t dress this well for a date, let alone an outdoor camping experience. Where are the hideous shorts? Where are the tube socks?. Where is the “life is good” T-shirt? Where are the belts? (Sorry, guys, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to add a little Meryl at her best). But then again, maybe Jeffrey’s mama, like a good Jewish mama, taught him to take pride in his appearance, no matter what. GAY OR JUST JEWISH? Draw.

2) The hand gesture: Please turn your attention to seconds 17-20 on the video, where Jeffrey does a clear wrist flick while saying “it was a cinch.” Sorry friends, but gays have patented that hand gesture every since Will and Grace were on network television. GAY OR JUST JEWISH? Gay.

3) He sarcastically calls himself, “very handy.”: The last handy Jew was a carpenter, and his name was Jesus Christ. And the only gay construction worker I’ve ever seen was in the village people. GAY or JUST JEWISH? Draw again. 

4) “If the tent’s a rocking don’t come a’ knocking”: Sounds like at Ina’s trying to tell her audience (including the person who made this really ghetto video by taping their tube TV) that things are about to get physical. And Jeffrey’s playing along. GAY OR JUST JEWISH?Just Jewish.

FINAL CONCLUSION: The thing is, I believe the only rocking that will happen in that tent is a fight over that amazing brownie pudding. Jeffrey sounds gay to me. And he’s light on his feet and he giggles. And I’m not trying to knock Ina’s relationship, which sounds ideal to many women, I’m just calling it like I see it, ok?

Point is, this question comes up a lot. And it came up a lot when I started dating S. I can say pretty confidently that now, our brief run is over. Which is a bummer, because jumping back into the sea of first dates, especially given my last experience with one, is not something I am not approaching with gusto. However, I think I carried on with him for as long as I did partially because I was determined to solve the mystery: GAY or JEWISH? Dear readers, this guy threw me through a loop with every interaction. Some baffling behaviors included:

1) He flicked the wrist: S and I met for the first time at a bar and exchanged witty banter over beer and board games (Scrabble. He won. barely.) But, about 5 minutes into the conversation, he started to use the Jeffrey Garten style wrist flick to emphasize his key points.

A few examples:

  • People in DC care so *wrist flick* much about politics.”
  • “My job is so “wrist flick” boring.
  • I was just at a wedding and drank *wrist flick* amazing tequila.

Hmm… Did I misread the profile on OKC? Is this guy a homosexual looking for a lady to join him and his partner for a little guy-guy-girl action? Did he say he was just interested in new friends??? 

2) He invited me back to house on date #1: After we finished our games and our drinks, S turns to me and says, “Have you eaten? Do you want to get something to eat? I have some spaghetti at my house.” WAIT–He’s inviting back to his house? Maybe he’s not gay? Maybe he’s just a clean, attractive guy who finds me funny and has picked up some unfortunate hand gestures? Two drinks apparently, was enough time for me to decide he wasn’t going to take me back to his house and chop me to bits and store me in the freezer. So, I flaunted common safety procedures (it’s been done before), and I said ok.

3) He lived in the gayborhood: His apartment was located a block from the intersection my friends and I call 17th and Gay. It was right across the street from my wonderful hairdresser, Frankie, who is always suggesting I do really radical things to halt aging and weight gain, like “laser liposuction.” Which is, according to Frankie, “totally worth it.” Also on Frankie and S’s block, no less than 4 bars where I’m pretty sure you can find this guy on a Saturday night:

4) His house was well-decorated and spotless: I am talking, gleaming. And his roommate (who, btw, is a WOMAN)  was away on vacation. There’s some nice art on the walls. Nice carpets on the floors. Now, it’s possible his female roommate can take credit for that. But, he’s lived there longer than her and he seemed mighty proud of his stylish digs.

5) We made out and yada yada yada: When we hung out at each other’s places, S would put the moves on me. Nothing gay about that. Until..

6) He got up in the middle of one of our make out sessions and said OMG, I REALLY HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM *double wrist flick*: If you’re imagining he sounded like Miss Jay you would NOT be wrong. I thought OMG! He is gay, and he’s going into the bathroom to spend some quality time with a Men’s Health.

7) I was more psyched about March Madness than he was: 

march madness

What do you mean, “is that now?”  First of all, yes, it’s March. And second, this is one of the best known sporting events in the U.S. The only other male I know who wasn’t aware the tourney is going on is my wonderful gay friend, C, who also thought Joe Flacko was the name of a Superbowl party guest, not the  Raven’s QB. 

8) He usually sits like this:

jack sitting

bar stool 1

cam and mitchell

9) He has a blog too. And it’s written from the perspective of a woman: I wish I could say more, but I can’t, because if there’s one thing S, D, and I are militant about, it’s anonymity for us and our dates. (Oh yeah, and how cool Rayna James is. And how each blog post must contain at least 1 pop culture reference, preferably something from Clueless. And cheese.) But do I even need to say more about this? The guy is literally so in touch with his feminine side that he has a female pen name.

So, the conclusion I eventually came to was GAY and JEWISH. The hand gestures, the sitting, and his overall delicate constitution cancelled out his straight sexual behavior. And yes, perhaps I am a tad bit resentful because, even though I was mostly invested in him for blog research, I was irritated when I realized that he just wasn’t that into me. However, please rest confidently that I’ve engaged a full, mixed gender and sexual orientation, panel of colleagues, friends, baristas, baretenders, siblings, etc in reviewing our communication and they all have deemed my theory credible.

What do you think readers? And for the straight ladies out there, have you ever encountered a similar situation? Tell us about it in the comments.

First date ever

I have  never been on a real live “grownup” date. Up to a few months ago, I had been in a six- year relationship which started when I was 21. I’ve done my fair share of hanging out with guys, but it usually wasn’t over drinks and a nice dinner. (Those things came well after the relationships had started). Like a typical overachiever, I decided that newly single me had to get good at dating, and to get good at dating, I needed to practice it. So three weeks ago, along with thousands of other people who made New Year’s resolutions to get in the game, I joined OKC.

G messaged me shortly after I joined the site, with a nice, witty message that praised my taste in comfort food like grilled cheese and pancakes. It was the best message I received on the site so far (no body parts mentioned, no generic, “hi”) and he looked cute, so I messaged him back and he quickly asked me out. We agreed to meet at a bar in the burbs for an early evening drink/dinner.

When I got to the bar, I was relieved to see G looked very much like his picture (except for the couple inches he added to his height online). He was super nervous, and I realized that thing about online dating is that people can be much more confident and smooth behind a computer screen than in person. (Or, they could be like me, and just never be smooth, regardless of the mode of communication.) Despite the nervousness, he was a sweet date: he told me he picked the bar because they were rumored to have great grilled cheese, he never gave one word answers, and he attempted the occasional joke. But it became clear to me pretty quickly that we didn’t have a lot in common, and finding things to talk about seemed a bit like work. So, after 1.5 hours of conversation, he asked if I wanted to go for a walk, and I told him I had plans to meet a friend (I did!).

He walked me to the metro, where I thanked him for a good time and told him to have a good weekend. To which he replied, “Oh, I’m not leaving, I am getting on the metro too.” Let the awkwardness begin. As soon as the train started moving, he turns to me, and says, “um, do you care if I do thissssss…” while putting his arm around me. For those of you not familiar with the DC metro, let me set the mood here: We are sitting side by side in some seriously bright and unflattering lighting, surrounded by a combination of tourists in fanny packs, noisy tweens, and uptight 20 and 30s somethings on their way home from a late evening of work. There is a 75% chance this train will stop working and go out of service before we reach our destination. There are all sorts of smells floating in the air, among them strong BO, old cheese, and old lady perfume (thanks tourists!). I can’t think of a worse place for someone to make a romantic overture, especially someone who you aren’t interested in. But at this point, I’m trapped on the moving train, and I figure if I say no then we have to sit in 10 awkward minutes of silence, or I have to get off the train, which, as DCers know, is a terrible idea cause the transit here’s not exactly regular. So, I say…”ehhh…ok?” in a high pitched voice and proceed to focus the conversation on nice, neutral topics like the weather and the traffic. And, then he’s like….”Ummm, I had a great time, I really would like to see you again.” And I’m like “ehhh…why don’t you text me next week and we’ll figure it out then.” I wanted to be up front with him but AGAIN, I am trapped on the train with him and I’m not really into seeing his reaction to rejection live. But I’m hoping he’ll get the hint. He does not. As the train arrives at his stop, he leans toward me for a kiss. My eyes see him leaning in, and before my brain has fully processed what’s happening, my adrenaline kicks in and I turn my head sharply to the right, giving him my cheek. I feel bad, but I just can’t do it. 

Overall grade: 5/10-points to G for being so thoughtful, picking a great place and being  a decent conversationalist who didn’t take himself to0 seriously. I really could have done without the advances on public transit, though. 

Lesson learned: Arrange separate transportation home!