Dating for Dinner

Tag: NYC

911? Yes, Hello This Guy Is Trying To Make Me Pay For Dinner. Hello?

drinkingI totally get why a lot of guys dislike dating.  Essentially they’re buying a lot of food & drinks for a strange girl who’s inevitably going to hate them & probably blog the whole pathetic ordeal!  But this is what all you guys sign up for, so let me tell you what I dislike:  Guys who ask me to split the check.  Because girls, namely me, aren’t supposed to pay for food.  Guys pay for food.  It’s fucking science!

So just because you realize I don’t like to brush my hair and IUnknown actually have nothing interesting to say for myself, doesn’t mean you should go against science and make me pay for my own lobster rolls.  It’s totally rude,  totally unnatural, and I totally wouldn’t order two if I thought I had to pay for them!

I was reading an article in Cosmo that a guy is more inclined to pay for the check when the date is going well.  That’s basically saying I have to be on my best behavior and intellectual A game in order to get free food?  I didn’t sign up for that.  Did I sign up for that?  No, no I did not.  It’s just dinner, and you asked me out, so listen up.

Unknown-1The average dress costs $179, Chanel lipstick costs $50, and birth control is $15; I don’t have to be interesting & if you make me split the check I might think about spitting in your face…

Do They Make Sympathy Cards For Girls Who Don’t Get Gucci?

Since the best part of dating aside from free food is talking about yourself, what happens if you haven’t anythingimages-1 important to say?  Like, what if you find yourself being asked out by a young, good looking, marketing rep for Gucci?  And what if you both work on Madison Avenue, although yours an exponentially lesser role, but still feel obligated to match his impressive job title?

Do you lie to make it seem like there’s a foundation to build a common relationship upon?  There are so many different things going through your head at this point; maybe the two of you could be Madison Avenue’s next power couple?  Maybe he could be your images-2future husband?  Maybe he could get you a drastically discounted handbag?

Basically where I’m going with this is I told Gucci Guy that I was the Regional Sales Director for Kate Spade.

I had to.  Even I’m obviously not the regional sales director of anything let alone a prestigious brand, it didn’t seem within the realm of possibility that a Guy from Gucci would pursue a measly stock associate at Kate Spade.  So I was forced to tell him I was far more important within the flagship store than just sorting through the new collection shipment boxes.

Unfortunately for me, Gucci Guy happened to love the retail business and tended to ask a lot of questions when we met for drinks at Bistro Chat Noir, later in the week.  He didn’t call me out but after I ran in circles about a fabricated job title of which I have no actual knowledge of, I think he was less than enamored.  I definitely tried to sound retail savvy using big words like, “shoplifting,” and, “profit margin,” but after a few glasses of wine I could see the bridge burning between me and my connection to discounted leather goods.  Regardless, I was very nice and gave the lying my best effort because you really never know if you can have a future with someone based entirely on bull shit.  And also somebody had to pay for the drinks and it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be me.

When I think about all the things I want to accomplish in this short, beautiful life; getting dumped by a good looking guy who works for Gucci isn’t exactly one of them but I’ll go ahead and scratch that off my bucket list anyway…

It Takes A City To Feed A Girlfriend…

images-1I guess it was right about the time that my credit card got declined for an $8 latte while wearing a $200 scarf that I realized, I should probably date for dinner again.  Something about the essential charging of a cup of liquid got me to thinking I should be getting this for free. I mean imagine if I was on a coffee date I wouldn’t have to do this shit and I would get a few free baked goods as well.

As of lately, the dating has been nonexistent since I was lead to believe that having a boyfriend meant you should be monogamous or whatever.  But now that the New Year has arrived and I find myself increasingly paying for more things than I’d like, I think I should start fresh & not let a little thing like a serious relationship stand in the way of my free food.

You know as much as I’d love to take credit for this amazing concept I really can’t because the idea is actually very ancient.  Haven’t you heard that4 men African proverb?  Hillary Clinton wrote a book with the saying on the cover.  Something about It Takes a Village and then the rest of the saying which not a lot of people realize is actually: To Feed a Girlfriend.  Which definitely rings true in my case because you know, one boyfriend can only do so much.  It takes an entire village, or in my case, an entire city of New York boys to feed me.

So there you go, my dearest boyfriend, you can relax a little.  Take a load off your shoulders, babe, because thanks to me and my delusional ideas you’ve got the support of every New York City bachelor behind you.  You can thank me later!  Preferably, at NYC’s favorite French restaurant Le Bernadin… 

Sorry, I’m Way Too Jealous To Give You My Spare Change!

Skyline-2Living in NYC, I unfortunately frequent subway stations where I find a plethora of homeless people holding gut wrenching sign that trick people like me into giving them spare change.  I’m usually disenamored by their efforts, however the other day while waiting for the Lex Line I was stunned to notice a woman sitting on the floor who was with-child.

A pregnant homeless woman?  Really?

I don’t know about you, but stuff like that hits me hard.  I couldn’t help but feel terribly depressed, on the verge of images-2 tears almost, thinking about the harsh realization that I live in a world where a homeless pregnant woman managed to get herself knocked up and I can’t even get laid.  Unbelievable…

Okay You’re Disgusting, Stop Calling Me

Can I just say that I am never asking anyone, “what’s wrong?” again.  See, the problem with asking someone what’s wrong is that sometimes they actually tell you.  And while that might not sound like a terrible idea, it actually will turn out to be a horrible idea if you’re me and you’re asking a Match.com First Date Guy, “what’s wrong?”  To be honest I didn’t ask him because I’m a caring person who has an intuitive sense for people’s feelings; oh definitely not.  I asked him because he was making a disturbingly unattractive face as the hostess took us to our table and I wanted it to stop.

And the expression did go away however at the brutal expense of him going on to describe his dentistimages appointment 5 hours prior where he had a root canal because of an, “excessively decayed tooth.”  This information was absolutely vile to someone like me who has never even had so much as a cavity.  I hadn’t even situated my purse to hang on the back of the chair before I was wondering if this guy had ever heard of floss and being further bombarded with his hand gestures mimicking a drill going into his mouth.  “So don’t be alarmed,” he said to me.  “If I only order soup.”  But before I could even get a word in, or open the menu for that matter, he started again.

images-1“Anyway I don’t eat much since I had lap band surgery,” he tried to continue.

“Lap band surgery?” I asked, a little confused because he’s only in his 30′s.  I assumed that was a last resort surgery for older people who were overweight.

“Yeah, I got really fat after my divorce!” He said with a weird enthusiasm.  “So after the procedure I can’t eat that much.  I actually have to eat super small portions and chew each bite about 37 times before I swallow because if I don’t I will literally throw up at the table.”

Ok so are we in agreement that his response to, “what’s wrong?” should have been something like he had a late lunch or a long day at work?  Don’t tell me about your fat phase, decaying teeth, and possible emotional baggage from a divorce.  Has this guy ever head of a fucking lie?  Lie to me.  Please?  I was totally horrified by everything that came out of his mouth in the first 7 minutes of meeting him and even more worried that he legit does not stop texting me.  He’s constantly asking me what I’m doing for lunch or if I have time for Happy Hour drinks.  I think it goes without saying that tonight, I am drowning my problems.Unknown

The tricky part will be trying to get this guy in a bathtub…

I Drink Bloody Mary’s On A First Lunch Date Cause That’s The Kind Of Girl I Am…

hot dudeI didn’t talk about religion, I didn’t talk about my 27 exboyfriends, & I kept the conversation far away from politics but as it turns out those aren’t the only ways to screw up first date conversations.  In my defense, I wouldn’t have had to make an inappropriate joke in front of Midtown Marketing Guy if it weren’t for this annoying baby crying a few tables over.  Seriously though, who takes babies to Blue Water Grill in Union Square?  Technically, I did not vocalize my distaste for a crying baby but I did let a death glare slip out in the direction of the struggling mother so I guess that said it all.

“So, I guess that means you don’t want kids?” He laughed in observation.  “I really love children.  I have three young nephews in Connecticut that I get to spoil.”

“I mean, I guess babies are fine,” I said while stirring the straw in my bloody mary.C004  “But they just seem like the kind of dead weight that I’d accidentally leave at a Jamba Juice or something like that.”  I said this while laughing at my little joke.  I mean talking about kids on the first date is totally obnoxious so I figured a joke would lighten the mood.  But apparently my wicked, exaggerating humor didn’t get the intended response as he just sort of looked at me with a disgusted shock on his face as if I had left his imaginary child at Jamba Juice.

“That’s terrible, Sarah…” He said with a straight face.

Terribly funny, I thought to myself before half heartedly apologizing.

You Live In Brooklyn? Say No More…

images-7
The thing about New York City public transportation is there’s no shortage of annoyingly friendly people casually interjecting in your daily commute.  I was on a quiet express 4 train last night coming from the Upper East Side going back down to Wall Street with plenty of time to contemplate & draft a lengthy text to Upper East Side Guy.

Unfortunately, I don’t think things are going to work out between us.  Or rather, I’m not willing to get emotionally messy enough toimages find out.  Don’t you think it would be sooo much better if I knew beforehand if  he was or wasn’t going to fall in love with me?  Then if not I could just go date someone cuter who would love me!  Well I think some kind of clairvoyance like that would thoroughly help the dating process but apparently that’s not how love works.

So anyway, I had my phone out in my lap thinking about how to tell him that I was going to be busy for the rest of ever.  I wrote and deleted several sentences before the girl next to me, who seemed to be in her early 30′s, started adding her two cents.  “Seems like you might like him,” she randomly said to me.  I put my phone back in my coat pocket and smiled politely although clearly not interested in speaking to her.  “Maybe you should just tell him how you feel and you might be surprised at his response.”

What the fuck?  I was a little shocked.  I mean who says that crap to a stranger?  As odd as it was I had to admit it  was like one of those movies where the universe is throwing omens at the main character until it sends her running back to Mr. Right.  I had to briefly wonder if I should I take it as a sign?  Was it a sign?  I guess it could be a sign?  Maybe I should just listen to the girl and tell Upper East Guy that I totally want to fall for him.  Maybe our lives are like a DownloadedFilemovie and we should be tuning in to the random influences that the world puts out to us…

LOL no!  This shit was not a movie; it was the New York City subway and if the universe was trying to give me a message, they should send a more reliable messenger.  I’m not in the habit from taking relationship advice from a hipster girl on a Brooklyn bound 4 train who has the words, “Cherish Life,” tattooed across her neck in large cursive script.  Nice try universe, but next time send me someone I can trust like Oprah, or Miss Piggy…

Take It Easy Mom, I’m Still Working On Getting An Outfit Together

images-5My mom literally won’t leave me alone about “getting my life together.”  She keeps worrying about me not leading a “fulfilling lifestyle,” because apparently googling dream vacations & pilates classes 4 times a week isn’t fulfilling enough for her.  I’m working on my life in my own counter productive way; you can’t just rush me out into the ideal lifestyle of your liking, mom!  I need time.  I need support.  And I probably need an all-inclusive beach vacation…

But she doesn’t understand me so she just keeps calling and freaking out like, “When are you going to get a job?” or, “Did you eat Pringles for breakfast again?” and, “Have you put on pants today?”  Conversations with her are really exhausting and I try to tell her that things really could be much worse than me sitting on the couch stalking exboyfriends on Facebook.  Just breathe mom because there are seriously  far more terrifying things in this world than your daughter not having a full time job and spending half the day idly browsing between clothing racks in SoHo.

Like, walking into a Payless Shoe store for example.  Yikes!

To Save Time, Always Blame The Boy

couple  upset“You know what your problem is, Sarah?”  That’s a rhetorical question, right?  Upper East Side Guy was asking me that not because he didn’t know, but because he thought I didn’t know, right?

Well that’s silly, I thought while looking around his apartment.  I can’t remember how I got him mad this time, but there we were; me standing at the front door about to walk out & he in the hallway as if he followed me to throw in one last jab.   I  debated whether or not I should answer his stupid question because actually, I do know what my problem is.  He was probably going to say  some shitA050 about my poor communication skills or whatever but really my problems began with the time I accidentally machine washed a cashmere cardigan & developed an innate ability to make a huge fucking drama-deal out of absolutely nothing.  Then there’s this terrible thing where I think maybe my boobs are so big it makes me look slightly fatter than I really am.  I can’t wash my hair everyday but the dry shampoo you’re supposed to use on the 2nd day  doesn’t really work so I still look like I have dirty hair.  I actually have to get botox injections in my armpits to control my excessive perspiring when I’m nervous and let’s not forget that every morning when I brush my teeth I always gag so you can imagine how foreplay goes or doesn’t go!

So yeah, I thought to myself, I’m well aware of my, “problems.”  But I was standing at the door about to make my grand exit; do you really think I could leave and still have the upper hand if I went into all that?  No.  So I really had no choice but to avoid the spotlight and throw it back on him with some unproductive response like, “I don’t have the problem, you do!” And then I walked out.  I know, I know; it’s totally immature but whatever, I was doing him a favor.  We could have been up all night talking about my white girl problems but denial is so much less time consuming.  So you’re welcome, Upper East Side Guy.

Cheers To Whatever The F You Think Is Exciting…

images-9When I heard there was a high chance of snow in NYC, I got on the first flight down to South Beach whereimages-11 there was an even higher chance of Sangria.  There’s really not better move to make than the one down south when you hear inclemental weather is coming your way.  So while the rest of Manhattan was hiding from snow, I was spending the afternoon applying SPF 40 at a patio table to hide from a sunburn.

“Do you ever feel like something big is coming up in your life?”  Upper East Side Guy asked.  I should mention that’s who I went down to Miami with because he paid for it & my Future Husband was busy.  I think it’s better to drink Sangria with good company than it is to drink Sangria alone, although at this point he was getting a little too serious for my taste.

“Like, do you get a sense that something exciting is on it’s way?   He insisted again.  I think these were rhetorical questions but none the less, he was looking quite philosophical, staring off at the breaking waves and such.  Me personally, I  find it’s better not to think so hard when you’re drinking or ever because it causes headaches.  I did however, look out at the ocean too, trying to find the deep moment or maybe a dolphin.

“I think so…” I lied as I tipped the glass of nearly empty Sangria back to my face, slightly annoyed.  If I had to face the fact that I didn’t have anything exciting coming up in my life, I should swallow that hard pill with a full glass of wine.  I sighed because nothing “big” was happening to me and it was definitely Upper East Side Guy’s fault for bringing it up.  I was almost about to get veryD022 depressed until I saw the waitress coming with a fresh pitcher of Sangria.

Sangria.  It wasn’t exactly on par with Upper East Side Guy’s example of a presumably intellectually fulfilling experience that would change my life, but it was exciting and the pitcher was rather big so my spirits really did perk all the way back up…

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