I like my life. A lot.
I love my job, I love (for the most part) where I live. I love my story – where I’ve been and what I’ve done. I am proud of what I have accomplished and I’m excited about my dreams.
I love my body, and often feel attractive and sexy and strong. I work out almost daily and take care of myself (for the most part – I do love beer. and cheese. and bacon).
Life is pretty damn swell. And, I’d love to share it with a partner. A real-life partner, not a booty-call (um, that ages me – I don’t think anyone says that anymore), not a casual dating sitch (um, anyone who knows me, knows that casual is so not me), not a undefined-who-knows-what-it-is situation, but an actual committed partner. How cool would that be?
But, alas, NYC (like many places I have lived before – for instance, the lesbian-capital of the W O R L D) makes dating hard. There are a gazillion successful, interesting, attractive, available women (just like me!). There are fewer attractive-available, attractive-interesting, available-interesting, or successful-available (or any of those combinations) men out there. And those that are there?! Well, they have it made (aforementioned plethora of women). Yeehaw, say the men of NYC.
Even my therapist tells me that it is hard. And that it takes luck. Luck?! Who the fuck has time for luck?!
(and for the record, I am not in a hurry. I don’t need to get married and I have no biological clock ticking away)
But, fucking luck?! Can I buy that in chinatown?
So, that brings me to tinder and OKstupid and all that fun with the interwebs.
Last week, I was at my local establishment, doing some work with the help of a tasty IPA (helps to have a fantastic beer bar is right in my neighborhood). It was a lovely day – warm, sunny – a surprise gift for late November. I was sitting next to an open window and finishing up a project. I was just humming along in my own little world, smiling to myself, getting shit done (is there no better feeling in the world than getting shit done?! spoken like a true capricorn, eh?) – when I noticed a guy walk by the window and into the bar. I noticed him because he made direct eye contact and smiled right at me. And he was with a woman and two babies.
But, being one of those sassy-pants, attractive, successful NYC women, I have my fair share of on-the-street-
admirers-harrassers. Ain’t no thing, and I got back to my work.
But, then I noticed that whenever the small little person he was with (his son) came running through the bar (family-friendly establishment) – he made all sorts of eye contact and smiles.
Not being an unattractive guy (with a great smile) – I couldn’t help but smile back, but didn’t think much of it when he left (and…. he was with a woman, though they didn’t really seem to be together).
Flash forward a few days and I am skimming through profiles on OKstupid and I come across this guy Joe that I had been in touch with last year. I quickly mark no and move on. Joe seemed nice enough, but our texts never went anywhere and every time we were suppose to hang out – something would come up with work or childcare (co-parent for his son) or something…
I think nothing of it – until he sends me an email later that night: ‘hi again’. I don’t respond, till later that night when I’m drunk (yay pre-thanksgiving partying with dad!) and say ‘i didn’t expect to come across your profile’ – meaning, if I had known it was you, I wouldn’t have clicked.
He marches forward, however, and says – oh, we should hang out – so we set up a date (for today, sunday) and then he says – you know what? I saw you the other day.
And then he proceeds to tell me that it was him at the bar the other day (which you smarty-pants readers already probably guessed).
So there’s that. I get pretty excited about the date, look forward to meeting up, appreciate being pursued a bit.
Then, comes this morning (date morning) and I get a text from him – ‘can’t do today, how about tomorrow?’
oh, that again.
Turns out that I have the busiest, craziest week ever. Two different couchsurfers, my brother in town, a work event, and preparing for a conference next weekend. #insaneinthemembrane
When I replied to him, about tomorrow, ‘no’ – he quickly responded – everything ok?
(ok, it was a bit short)
But then I said – hey, I was looking forward to meeting up to see if that chemistry was for real and I have a crazy busy week this week and blah blah blah (breaking the rules of how long a text should be). What I didn’t say was: and is this a pattern of you making plans and then breaking them?
And he says, it’s ok, I can meet next week, I’m not going anywhere.
No, you might not be, but you might blow me off again.
And that, no matter how great your smile is, it really is not worth it.