The Best Worst First Date

Last week I went on a first date with a guy from Match.com. Which by the way, is an interesting beast of a dating website. So, out of the hundreds of people emailing and "winking" at me (it's a big city), I have responded to all of three people, 2 of which I've attempted to meet in person.

So here we are, Mr. Match-gone-wrong (we'll call him Jason) and I are starting our email communications via the Match.com site. As a rule of my online dating thumb, I decide to give him direct contact info (email and phone) after about 3 emails. I actually just find it highly annoying to use Match as the communication medium once I decide someone is normal. I will later come to realize why my roommate suggested this is not a good idea until after the first date.

Jason and I's gmail conversations eventually move to gchat, a nice idea I think, as it gave me an idea of how a person communicates (which, as some of you might guess, is pretty important to me). Jason seemed very normal, funny, grounded, and our interests aligned. From the pictures he had posted on Match, he looked pretty darn cute, 28 years old, and is very tall. (Yay!)

So after finally finding a time where our schedules meshed, he picked a Belgian Beer bar in Times Square. I actually hate this neighborhood, but didn't want to seem too picky at the first meeting. On my trek to BXL Lounge, he had texted me to let me know he had arrived, and was waiting at the bar.

So finally, I walked in.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I knew it my heart that was him. But I was wishing it wasn't. Those pictures he posted on Match, were probably about 4-5 years old, and he didn't age well. His hair was thinning in certain spots and he desperately needed a hair cut. His clothes were pretty sloppy. And his teeth haven't seen the inside of a dentist office since those pictures he posted on Match were taken FIVE YEARS AGO.

YOU DON'T LOOK LIKE THIS (yes this is an actual photo he posted on Match):

YOU MIGHT LOOK LIKE THIS:

I thought about walking away for a split second, but just couldn't bring myself to be that much of a bitch. So, I tapped him on the arm, said hello, and the date was officially on. I can't believe I wore my nice Diesel pants for this. We decided to grab a table since there were no vacant seats at the bar, when I noticed that Jason already had a drink in his hand. Didn't he arrive just mere moments before me? He couldn't wait 5 minutes to order a drink? A tad rude, I thought. I would later find out his inability to be in a bar drink-less during our dinner conversation.

Truth is I wasn't really hungry. In addition to his appearance being unappetizing, I had already eaten a bit before meeting him. While he ordered the messiest item on the menu, spaghetti carbonara, I went with soup. I figured there was no point in ruining my diet over him. Then, the dinner conversation quickly moved to his tales of drunken and drug-induced stupidity in college and beyond. Now look, we all have these stories of drunk moments in college, but to showcase them on a first date like it's some best seller you are writing, is just inappropriate. I really don't need to hear about incidents with random women while you're hopped up on horse tranquilizers.

After about an hour of this, he asked if I would like to get a drink elsewhere. Well, of course not. But, I decided to take one for the blog, and see if any more interesting material would arise. I chose an Irish pub closer to my apartment (easy escape). However, I don't really remember the conversation because all I could focus on was how to politely stop him from continually touching my leg and back. I think 3 trips to the bathroom in 1 hour helped me make that point.

Finally, I sold him my excuse that it was getting late and I needed to walk my dog. To which Jason made the declaration "I would love to walk him with you, I really like dogs!". First of all, no. Second of all, it's a bit crass to invite yourself over like that. Did this guy just not get it? I explained that I just needed to get home, and that seemed satisfactory to him.

Until we parted ways. He attempted to kiss me by grabbing my face and leaning in. Quick decision: I turned my head so he got my right cheek. I couldn't get away fast enough. I think he gets the point now since I blocked him on gchat.

To my online daters: Please please post many recent pictures of yourself. And please don't tell me your dad is an alcoholic on the first date.

To Match.com: I want my money back on this one. (Yeah, I paid for my share of the bill....)

Let's Meet for a Drink

While I would rather not write an introduction and just start sharing my fascinating stories, thoughts, and wonder-ments with a virtual audience, I suppose some sort of background on what my attempted 15-minutes of web fame is all about.

So here I am, a single, mid-to-late 20s girl living in NYC. Originally hailing from the midwest, I have been in Manhattan just over a year after longing to live here for nearly 14 years. I am a social butterfly (note: NOT a socialite) who loves and befriends many types of people. It was of the reasons (aside from just how great this city is) that I wanted to move here: the people. I work a somewhat normal 9-5 job, pay way too much in rent, explore NYC and its outer boroughs when possible, and I go on dates. I guess one difference between me and others is that I have chosen to blog about it.

I have experienced many different types of dating scenarios (from flaky to ultra-serious) and find myself talking to both my male and female friends about these topics daily. I know what you're thinking, "just another Sex and the City wannabe", but no that's not it. I'm not in my 30s, I don't live a six-figure or more NYC lifestyle, and I now date in a digital world, which greatly impacts the way we think about dating, the people we date, and how we communicate. Oh also, I am REALITY.

So here I am, ready to date, ready to write, and ready to entertain. And of course, doing this all anonymously, so as not to scare away a potential happy future. Enjoy.