You aren’t relegated to the movie theater at the local mall, and if you are going to see a movie you can go to places like Nitehawk and eat artisanal cheese while watching it.
Usually the best first dates start with a drink, maybe at a bar in the East Village, where you talk for hours and determine that you both share a love of dim sum and Chinese beer. Then, during the meal, you both discover that you both have stiff shoulders, so it’s off to a massage place on the Lower East Side for cheap massages.
You don’t want to blow it immediately after your first by seeming too eager.
But you don’t want to let too much time pass, either. There’s too much possibility for something better right around the corner.
And besides, even if I canceled, I knew how Internet marketing worked. Your black pants and black or gray top or whatever you’re wearing isn’t good for a first date.
All three services would continue to email me new profiles every day. Jeff Goldblum isn’t going to date someone who wears what you wear to work.” My date with Mench Tastic kept me preoccupied the rest of the day. I bet he has sexy hands—strong, veiny even, but soft.
He had thick, dark curly hair and wore modern horn-rimmed glasses. You can’t make yourself that available.” But he’s so good-looking. It was dim but not too dark, and it was the one place in the bar that didn’t cast the kind of bad shadows that could add a week of sleepless nights plus another 20 years to my face.
In one picture, he was wearing white slacks (linen maybe? He looked serene and content, standing with a very tan, old sailor behind the wheel of a large yacht. I threw my gigantic bag, packed with my laptop and dating data, next to me as I sat down and sunk into the cushion.
In another shot, he was sitting at his desk at work, surrounded by stacks of newspapers, file folders, and paper. By now, the waitstaff and bartenders knew me by name.
I was sitting at my desk at work when sent me a similar reminder message, this time highlighting Mench Tastic, and his profile immediately grabbed my attention. I sat through a client meeting discussing the usability of a website, and all I could think about was his photo gallery. I looked at my watch more often than I should have, waiting for the meeting to end.
He was 33, was a nonsmoker, and said explicitly that he wanted kids. We finally wrapped up our discussion, but without enough time to head home first, I went straight to Longshots and decided to wait at the bar for him.
Or because you really want that summer share in the Hamptons. Maybe you’re a traditionalist and you still believe you can meet someone in Central Park... This can be why most New Yorkers don’t want to commit, because they know that there will always be someone else, theoretically better, right around the corner.