Admittedly, my sleeping skill-set is subpar. If I’m lucky, I get about five hours (and never uninterrupted). On typical sleepless nights, I rely on my phone to keep me company – alternating between Facebook, email, and New York Times op-eds.
During a recent occurrence, I was pleasantly surprised to recieve an email from someone who found my profile on OkCupid. A few months ago, I half-jokingly set up accounts on OkCupid, Match.com, and JDate (“willing to convert”). Due to sheer volume, I delete most of the messages from these sites before opening them. But because it was 4am, I decided to give this one a chance. The message was both thoughtful and hysterical, piquing my interest enough to check out the sender’s profile. After a few amusing email exchanges, I agreed to meet up for drinks at Park Tavern later in the week.
The ensuing date was so funny, I can’t resist sharing a narration with all of you. (For purposes of this post, my date will be referred to as “Jersey” – his home state).
Thursday night, I arrive at Park Tavern and quickly identify Jersey from his photographs. The bar is crowded with no open seats, and a fellow patron keeps knocking into me. Jersey suggests we move to the wall opposite the bar. I reply that we will be in the waitstaff’s pathway, but he heads for the wall anyway.
Jersey: Sorry about that, we had to move because we’re both big people
Liz: Excuse me?
Jersey: Well, you are like 6-feet tall
Liz: Or 5’9”, but okay
Jersey: The last time I said that to a girl she didn’t like it either, and that time she was on top of me
Liz: So… what do you do professionally?
Jersey: Finance, but I hate it
Liz: I completely understand, I hope to find a career someday that I’m passionate about
Jersey: That’s such an entitled white woman thing to say
Jersey: Women like you think that you don’t have to work hard, and just do whatever you want while living off of daddy or your husband
Liz: Actually, my sentiment about doing what you love comes from my father, who has always pursued his dream career despite the fact that it doesn’t pay well
At this point we are TEN MINUTES into the date. This was just supposed to be drinks, but when a waitress informed us that our table was ready, I figured the least he can do is buy me dinner after the trauma I’d already endured.
Once seated, we realize that there are two bright lights pointed directly at our faces, making the already uncomfortable situation unbearable. Jersey abruptly stands up and declares that we are eating at the bar instead.
Back at the bar, things ease up a bit. He tells me that he’s read all my blogs and loves my recipes – although my Bolognese sauce is inadequate because it takes five-hours to make.
Jersey: How do you find time to do your blog and work? I’m super lazy. I’m just as smart as you are, but I like being lazy. How do you find the energy?
Liz: I don’t sleep much, and I don’t like sitting idly in my apartment
Jersey: Why not?
Liz: Probably because I’ve been in consecutive relationships since tenth grade, and I’m not used to being alone
Jersey: Are you a serial monogamist?
Jersey: I know women like you – I know your type
Liz: What does that mean?
Jersey: I have theories about you. My ex was a serial monogamist too. Actually, I’m still in love with her
Liz: How long did you date?
Jersey: A couple months
Liz: That’s ridiculous, you weren’t in love with her then, and you probably aren’t now
Jersey: Yes, I am. I’m totally in love with her
Liz: Okay, that’s cute
Jersey: I’m going to order for us now. Let’s start with the mussels
Liz: I’m not a fan of mussels, but you should definitely get them
Jersey: (to the waiter) We’ll both start with the mussels, then the gnocchi and short ribs
Liz: Are you serious?
Jersey: (leaning closer to whisper in my ear) Our makeout session is going to be HOT later
Liz: Oh yeah? How do you know that?
Jersey: I happen to know that I’m an excellent kisser
Liz: Please excuse me, I’m going to run to the ladies room
In the restroom, I decide that as much as I’d love to stay for the entertainment value, this date is quickly turning into one of the creepiest encounters of my life. I find a waiter and ask if there is any way out other than the front door. He says no, but when I explain the situation, he sighs, grabs my hand, and leads me downstairs through the kitchen and out the basement door.
Ten minutes later, I get a text from Jersey saying, “Sorry it turned out this way.” I deleted. And promptly deleted my OkCupid account. xx tt
t+tSTYLE: While on the topic of dating, my go-to date night dress designer is Dolce & Gabbana. I have so many variations on the D&G LBD, my girlfriends banned me from buying any more. But that hasn’t stopped me from perusing the latest line… I’m currently coveting this corseted point d’esprit lace number.