Newborn Hedonist

Last night I was fifteen minutes late for my date. I was coming from a dinner with some girlfriends and couldn’t leave before dessert. Sweet potato donuts? Come on, you would have stayed too.

Fifteen minutes is beyond fashionably late, it’s just plain rude. But when I arrived Ben, my date, didn’t mind. He shot me a warm smile and shook my hand. When he started talking I realized he had an accent, an Israeli accent. Heart be still. I love hummus, tanned skin, and salty seas. Nowhere on his profile did it mention his international roots.

Accents in general are always a perk, but Israelis, ah… with their dark brooding features and intense eyes. He reminded me of an Israeli I dated when I first moved to the city at 18. I suddenly got bashful in his presence. Ben had a nose like Owen Wilson, all mangled and weird. I once dated a guy with a nose and chin that almost touched, my friends nicknamed him “Fortune Cookie Face”. Ben fell into that category of sexy/ugly.

Our conversation flowed more organically then most of my dates. He’s the type of guy that works to live, a quality I admire. He had been making a lot of changes in his life in the past seven months. No more cigarettes, green juice diets, bikram yoga, etc. When I asked what the impetus was for the change he confessed, “I just got divorced.”

A recent divorcée might scare away many a young lady but not this nut-job. Over the summer I was in LA and went to see a psychic on Santa Monica who told me I’d be a second wife. Being a second wife sounded pretty first rate to me. I’m not against the idea of settling down one day with a guy who had already failed at marriage, learned his mistakes, and is coming back to the table with more knowledge, understanding, compassion, etc. Okay, it’s a dark theory with possibly flawed logic and many obvious holes but I need to justify the psychic’s prediction…

New to the dating world, after being with the same woman for eight years, Ben said he was enjoying his bachelor lifestyle and with his Israeli accent he described himself as a “newborn hedonist”. Clearly I was intrigued. He told me I was the second girl he’d been out with from OKCupid but said he had great luck with the first. “What happened?” I of course had to ask.

He went out with Rebecca, a journalist who writes about S&M parties. Rebecca is a wild child; on their second date she brought him to a party where he watched her get down with two other ladies in front of a room full of people. Oh Rebecca! I was obviously shocked by this information, for many reasons… 1. What qualities did Rebecca and I have in common in our profiles that he thought to ask us both out? 2. How come I’ve been living in New York for over seven years and I have yet to come across a S&M party? 3. Why is everyone else on OKCupid being invited to these parties except me? (Again, not that I want to go but I’d appreciate an invitation. Sheesh.)

Be careful what you wish for… Ben mistook my schoolgirl curiosity as a desire to join. “You know, I think Rebecca would like you a lot,” he said with a sly smile on his face, “Would you want to come to a party with us?” Oy, okay I changed my mind I definitely didn’t want to be invited to the party. Parties? I hate parties. Parties are the worst.

I decided to call it quits on the date before Rebecca showed up with her leather bustier and metal studded thong cracking her whip. Ah, Ben. He might be a sweet hedonist but he has a lot of things to cross off his single bucket list that I have no interest in being a part of. I’m excited for him, if his first date was a sex party I can only imagine the wild trouble he’s going to indulge in his bachelor journey. Go get ’em Ben.