Putting Out the Fire

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I just realized that I never wrote about the sex maniac, dirty texting firefighter I met. The most logical place to start would be the beginning, so that's where I'm going to begin. I came up to NYC the first week of February, looking for a place to live. After perusing through craigslist obsessively for days, I picked about 15 places to look at. From there, I narrowed it down to 6 and came up for the day to look at all of them.

The first place I looked at was in Hell's Kitchen. It wasn't exactly the neighborhood I wanted to be in, but hell, it was a 7 minute walk to work. I get to the apartment with my gay husband in tow and this 6'3" dark hair, *big* guy opens the door. Now I kind of have a type: tall, dark and handsome. It's cliche but it works for me.

It turns out this guy who's moving out and renting the apartment is a firefighter. I guess the New York City Firefighter is hot commodity and kind of a notch on the bedpost. I was intrigued but I had to pass on the place. It was small, dark and smelly (which I know is what most people expect from a New York City apartment). Anyhow, about two weeks pass and firefighter emails me the week before I'm due to move up. I think the best way to relay what happened next is by posting our email exchange:

"heyy, did you ever find a place?"
"Yup. Very excited, I move up next weekend! Did you find someone to take over your lease?"
"Nice congrats. Yes I did. Let's get together when you get settled in"
"Sounds great. I'll give you a shout when I'm up."
"Ok. We'll have fun ;-)" (I guess this sounds a little ominous?)

--few more flirty emails....and then...--

"What's you cell # so we can text dirty stuff" (wtf, seriously?)
"Lol, what makes you think I'm up for that? Btw, you already have my cell." (me, trying to play it off and see if he's serious)
"Went out on a limb there." (next time you go out on a limb, try to go out REALLY far so that you fall off)

So then he texts me and tells me he's "a sexual person". Yeah, you have a dick, no shit you're a sexual person. Then he proceeds to tell me that he likes to have sex in public. Seriously, we haven't gone out and you're propositioning me to have sex with you in public? Good lord.

I pretty much ignore him, but once in a while he'll text me something like "are you out?" That's code for "are you drunk enough to make bad decisions?" He followed up with this last night "how come you don't text back"?

Clearly he's not the sharpest tool in the box.

Lesson learned: Men are sexual people


Pardon the Interruption

Sunday, March 28, 2010

I'm in Miami right now, visiting with a friend who I "dated" "briefly" because he was "lousy" in bed. Just finished something for work nearby so I decided to stay the weekend. Don't know why I used the quotes, but I think they're funny so they stay. We worked together at the first job I had out of college and just reconnected via facebook about a month ago. The last time I saw him was about 5 years ago, so needless to say, I was hoping that an old dog learned some new tricks.

He's great, so good at treating women and we just have fun together. However, there are certain things lacking in what I call the "skillz" department (bear with me, I likes the quotes). Nothing that half a bottle of vodka and drunken making out in the pool at the Hampton Inn didn't solve. Other than that, we had a great time today; had some brunch, went to the beach, drinks at the Delano, nappy time, dinner at Oliver. All in all, a solid time had in Miami.

I have to say that I was hoping we'd bump into the Jersey Shore crew since the next season is filmed in South Beach. Whether or not we saw the cast is hard to say as there were gorilla juiceheads aplenty everywhere!!! That might also be because the Ultra Music Fest was in town this weekend. We definitely saw some people passed out on the beach, some were drunk at 9 this morning and a choice few were still on E. I felt like Miami had indeed rolled out the welcome wagon.

Lesson learned: You can't teach an old dog new tricks, especially in the endurance department.


(Mis)Matched: Part II

Thursday, March 25, 2010

I know I alluded to the fact that I had three dates in three days. In truth, it was really 2.5 dates, a booty call and another date in 6 days. Two guys were great and the other was my idea of a living nightmare. I guess I should start chronologically:

Date 1: Monday
Blonde hair, blue eyes, 6'2" attorney, age 33. Extremely well-dressed, very handsome. We went to a bar in the East Village. I wore an extremely tight black dress, I think I pulled something while sucking it in the whole night. Wore my peep toe Louboutins (courtesy of my ex-boyfriend, that s.o.b.).

We had a couple of drinks, good conversation, typical nervousness at the beginning. Ended up near the West Village at another bar and ended in a brief make-out session at his place. Will I call him again? Not likely. Mainly because he wants to go to a sex club and partly because I find attorneys a little stiff and not in the good way....next!

Date 2: Tuesday
Brown hair, brown eyes 5'9" (I'll explain), graphic designer, age 37. I wore a black and white work dress, flats (knowing he'd be the size of a Keebler elf). I stupidly invited him to a Rangers game after a great conversation on Sunday night. We were originally supposed to get drinks on Thursday, but in a moment of impulsiveness, I gave him my extra ticket to the Rangers game at Madison Square Garden.

He had advertised himself as being 5'9" but when I met him at Borders, he was really 5'7" and looked MUCH older than his advertised age of 37. Hard living if I ever saw it. His email to me was nice and he had admitted that he was a little shorter and a little older than I was looking for. I thought I was being open-minded...well, never again! I knew the moment I met him that I wasn't going to like this date. After hours of his chewing with his mouth open, nose-blowing and general complaining that hockey's a violent sport (no shit, that's why I like it); I thought about excusing myself to go the bathroom and never come back (a lesson I learned from a special someone ;)).

Even though every cell in my body was screaming at me to leave, I didn't. I'm just not that mean. I admit that it's a little narcissistic to think that he would have been crushed. I guess some men need a sledge hammer to get the message through. The whole night he kept trying to lean towards my side and I kept leaning away from him. It must have looked hilarious to the people sitting behind us.

I soldiered through and dare I say that I'm a stronger person because of it? Maybe. Either way, I promptly lost his number after I sprinted to the cab.

Day 3: Wednesday (St. Patrick's Day)
Brown hair, brown eyes, 5'11", consultant, 29. I wore skinny jeans, python flats and a tight gray shirt. Possibly the sweetest guy you will ever meet. A perfect gentleman, handsome but maybe not enough of an edge for me? I met up with him and his roommates around 11PM. I had just gotten home from my Wednesday night tradition with my gay husband and M mentioned he'd be around my neighborhood.

We had some chicken wings and some beer and it was great. Walked me home and offered me his coat. Made plans for brunch on Sunday.

Part III: booty call and then some...

Lesson Learned: always carry some roofies in case your date sucks. Roofie the shit out of him and then take a cab home. Buy yourself something nice the next day to wash away the painful memories.


(Mis)Matched-Part I

Saturday, March 20, 2010

"You need to screw your way out of this", this is the sound advice I've received from most of my friends regarding dealing with post-breakup. Even though I think I would have heeded this advice years ago, I've just found that I haven't felt like dealing with dating in general and with men specifically. That being said, last Sunday, I woke up a little hungover and decided to sign up on Match.com.

My rationale for signing up for Match was that I enjoy online shopping. So if I do it with clothing, why not with men? The experience with Match for me has been like trying to find a Chanel suit in a T.J. Maxx. I've also equated it with the employees at the Abercrombie Outlets: they're good-looking, but not as good-looking as the regular Abercrombie workers and they're as irregular as the outlet clothing they sell.

Lots of my friends have used the service and I'm not knocking that, but I've just been a little overwhelmed with the whole experience. It's like being hit on by mostly men you would never be interested in dating/grabbing drinks with/making eye contact with. To date, I've received 79 emails, 70 winks (totally non-committal) and 76 "he's interested" (absolutely non-committal).

To get a sense of what I'll be talking about, I'm posting a choice selection of emails I've received:

"What a great profile, very funny. I think we have a lot in common. I hope to hear back from you." (Fine, whatever. Why don't you tell me what we have in common?)

Excerpt: "In general, I'm looking to meet someone who might enjoy exploring NYC, who likes to laugh and likes to think, and who enjoys being challenged and learning new things. I admit straight up that I'm only 5'6'', but that's one of the least important things about me. If you think we might have some things in common, it would be fun to have a chance to talk (maybe over tea/coffee or something). You can tell me all the reasons why Chicago is or is not better than NYC. " (Ok great, but what part of over 6' tall did you not understand?)

"emailed u before. i just realized i only have membserhip until this wknd. i hop e to hear from you because i really want to meet you. my personal email isXXXX@XXX.com whats yours?" (Um, if I didn't email you back, it's because I didn't feel like it. I don't care about your damn membership)

I state pretty clearly in my profile that I'm "not looking for a soulmate here, there or anywhere." And to highlight that fact, here's the one of the 5 emails I've written back on Match.com:

"You're tall, hot and funny. Want to grab a drink sometime"

It turns out that he does want to grab a drink, we'll see.

Part II: Three dates in three days...


Moved and Parallel Parked

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

So I moved up two Sundays ago. My friend and I were supposed to drive up to NYC in the UHaul van together, but then she got the plague right before we were supposed to drive up. So, I did the move and the drive all by myself. I "borrowed" my ex's ipod car thingy and made for the open road.

I have to say, the drive was both therapeutic and invigorating. I felt completely self-reliant, independent and proud. It was nice to have no one else but myself to truly count on. At the end of the day, it was a blessing that I did the move alone. I think that when you've been in a relationship for a long time, it's easy to have someone help you do things or to even delegate the task to your partner, lol. It's really when you're faced with a challenge yourself that you know what you're made of.

The drive was painless until I got to the Holland Tunnel. That was sh*ttastic. After PARALLEL PARKING the UHaul on a New York side street, I went out with an old roommate who was in town.

She just got her boobs done and they looked amazing! I was jealous for half a second and then realized I didn't have $7,000 to spend on funbags. We went to the Mexican restaurant over in the Lower East Side and just had margaritas with the girls...and a this girl's boyfriend, who I was pretty sure was gay.

After that, I went to a totally inadvertently Jersey Shore-themed party at Crimson. I swear, gorilla juiceheads abound at that place! After paying a totally ridiculous $20 cover charge, the night got underway....or so I thought. It was good seeing friends from out-of-town but to be honest, I really wasn't feeling it. I think it was partly due to the recent breakup and partly due to the fact that I was a little hung up on someone I had been talking to for the past month.

Anyhow, I went home...alone.

Lesson Learned: Learn to count on yourself if nothing else...and if you're going to get implants, always go bigger than you think.


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