Model Gay

It was no secret that Ray was a lover of the arts. His profile is a carefully tuned piece of work. It contains German poetry (he is not German), a list of black and white films strictly from France (he is not French), his taste in music ranged from Italo disco (not Italian either) to minimal synth and he had a series of self-photographed portraits, each with a different neon colored background. It wasn’t a profile; it was more of a mood board. It reminded me of an installation you might find at the Whitney.

After he found my profile he sent me a message that felt like a story worthy of some fancy smancy literary journal. He complimented my “minimalist effect” and explained what he thought the “mise en scene” was in my profile picture and how it tied back to one of his favorite French films. He was a character and clearly a little weird. I like weird so I accepted his invitation for a drink.

When I saw him at the bar I wasn’t surprised by his impeccable style. Tight jeans, button down shirt that matched his shoes and blazer with a handkerchief in the breast pocket. I was wearing jeggings and an over-sized cardigan. He began telling me about his career in the fashion industry and a party he attended over the weekend at one of New York’s newest, hippest clubs. Waving his hands and swiveling his neck for emphasis he described the hottest fashions at the party. I couldn’t help but wonder, “Is Ray gay?”

I stared at him as he sipped his martini and gossiped about a girl friend of his (who I obviously didn’t know) that was cheating on her man. My gay-dar was beeping loudly in my ear. He giggled and gesticulated violently.

I thought back to a dilemma one of my friend faced a few months back. She was dating a guy who worked in the fashion industry, dressed too well, worked out too often, and exhibited many traits that went beyond metro sexual. We conferred with another friend on her opinion about the guy’s sexual preference, she explained that there is gay and then there is “model gay”. “If you’re surrounded by beautiful things,” she said, “Are you gay or is it just a love of beautiful things?”

I loved this theory. Although I felt zero romantic spark, I did feel Ray could be a great pal to get snazzed up and talk shit with. The jury is still out on whether he is gay or “model gay” but regardless the man can dress, has seriously refined tastes, and can gossip with the best of them. Mmmmkay? {snap}

New Way of Dating

Last week Granny told me about Roger, a 78-year-old JDater. She responded to a message he wrote and now she was waiting for a reply to plan a date. Originally he wrote:

“I happen to be a very nice man!!!! I am seeking a very nice lady to share good times with. Just a little about me is that I am a caring , considerate, kind & gentle, romantic and very sensual person!!! So if you wold like to meet and say hello, let me know.”

Based off his unbridled use of exclamation points and his self-proclaimed characteristics of considerate (and sensual…) you would think she would have heard back from him by now, right? Nope.

Although I was annoyed by his inattentiveness Granny felt differently. “I’ve been reading the magazines, ya know the articles,” she said, “They say men these days call soonest one to two weeks. At least ten days. Women call the next day. They’re calling it ‘The New Way of Dating…’”

LISTEN TO OUR CONVO HERE: new way of dating convo.mp3

If that’s the new way of dating, I guess I’m an old school kind of girl.

An Indelible Impression

I was on the phone with Granny yesterday when she spotted, “a gorgeous, gorgeous man” driving by.

LISTEN to the lady on the prowl gush: bentley babe convo.mp3

“Some woman let him out alone,” she giggled,  “She’s crazy!”

It’s Not Me, It’s Him

I’m great at justifying things. Eating boxes of cookies, buying that over-priced top, stealing a bottle of vodka – whatever it is, I can find a reason to defend it.

After my phone call yesterday with Granny I realized where I inherited this trait. When I told her about my date with Grant and how he neglected to ask for my number Granny managed to turn it around so that I was on top. Rather then accepting the simple fact that he may have just not liked me, Granny dug deep to find every reason in the book to justify his actions:

  1. “He may be very troubled. He’s stressed because of lack of work.”
  2. “He’s very insecure.”
  3. “He may have another girlfriend and he just came out to play.”

Click to listen to my cheerleader pumping me up some more: justification – convo

Role Reversal

“I like your nighttime photo. You look like Giselle in a fashion ad. Which is kind of awesome,” Grant, my date last night, had messaged me on OKCupid. Giselle? Yes, I agree that would be pretty awesome. Tell me more, Grant.

In his profile he made up a series questions to answer:

-Favorite Grade in School: 5th.
-Least Favorite: 7th.
-If I Had Just One Song To Get The Party Going, Would That Song Be The Electric Slide?: No it would not.

I also enjoyed fifth grade and I especially enjoyed that he took it upon himself to do a personal Q and A.

I got to the bar on time but Grant was fifteen minutes late. Ah, I finally got how annoying my tardy tactics can be. Lesson learned.

I grabbed a drink and took a seat at a table in the back of the bar. I had to make a friend’s going-away dinner after the date so I was looking snazzier than I typically would for a Monday night drink in a dive bar. I was wearing a sexy purple dress and heels. While sitting by myself, sipping a cocktail, eyeing around the place all dolled up it would not have been outlandish if someone mistook me for a lonely hooker on the prowl.

Grant entered frazzled, wearing a laid back flannel. Even though he had picked the spot he said he went to a bar ten blocks away by accident…

He grabbed a drink and sat down, I saw him eye my outfit. “I’m going to a fancy dinner after this,” I said defensively, “Not that I wouldn’t dress like this for you, I mean I don’t know you, but I don’t usually wear heels on a Monday, but you know what I mean, right?” It was an awkward and unnecessary explanation.

We changed the subject; he told me that he lives in a loft with six people and one bathroom in Brooklyn. It sounded like a cross between a terrific sitcom and a terrifying nightmare. I have just one roommate and I’m almost too entitled to handle him. I was impressed but also concerned by Grant’s living conditions.

He had just moved to the city after finishing up grad school and wasn’t ready to commit to a job so he’s been spending his time traveling.  He told me about an excellent cross-country road trip that him and a buddy went on this summer. I told him about my cross-country trip, I left out the part where I got creepy, but still our experiences we’re vastly different. We started talking about cities we love and cities we could do without, unfortunately none of our cities lined up.

Again we changed the subject, we started talking about our families and trips we’ve been on with them. He had a laid back trip to Morocco with his family last year. I had a chaotic estrogen-filled trip to East Africa with my mom, Granny, and sisters. I recounted a story about a fight I got into with my sister while in the Serengeti that involved a Masai Warrior, a bow and arrow and some Valium. He was clearly freaked out.

Grant is the oldest of three brothers; I am the middle of three sisters. When he found out where I fell in the pecking order he gave me a look like “Aha, that explains it.”

I’m not sure if it was the dress that was affecting my attitude but by the looks Grant was giving me I’m pretty confident I was exuding some crazy girl vibes.

“What’s your last name?” he asked.

“Why? Do you want to Google me?” I replied.

“No, I’m just curious,” he said. Mmhmmm, yeah right. It’s 2012, we can admit it. We love to Google stalk. Right? It can’t be just me.

I gave him a name and he gave me his. When we got up to leave we said our goodbyes and parted ways. After he walked away I realized we skipped something. He never asked for my number. I didn’t expect or want to go out with him again but still… we know my ego needs some stroking, would it be so much for him to at least feign interest? The lonely hooker was feeling kind of lame.

As I walked to my dinner I realized he did the right thing. Why take a number if you’re not going to call? It was clear we weren’t compatible, we had at best, a pleasant drink and that’s all it would ever be. I appreciated his honest ending to our date.

Of course I have already Googled him. Unfortunately there is no incriminating dirt. It turns out he’s quite the scholar and had a silly haircut in 2008.

Sex Parties

My theory was correct. Everyone has been invited to a sex party except for me. When I told Granny about Ben and his rowdy rendezvous with Rebecca she was more than open minded. “He’s a man, of course he went,” she said, “You can’t hold that against him.”

I was surprised by her lack of judgment. She was so accepting, almost too accepting…

“Have you been to a sex party?” I asked suspiciously.

She gasped, “Never, never, never,” then, “Oh, I went to one but I didn’t know I was going to one when I was 17 years old.” She says she didn’t stick around for the fun and games, but still, I’m impressed.

Granny was so unprejudiced she even suggested I go out with him again, “I don’t fault him, he’s an Israeli and they do it all. On top of it, he’s a guy.” Gotta love her reasoning.


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.


Valentine’s Day. Ah, it falls into my too-much-hype-holiday category right beside New Year’s Eve. People put too much effort in glorifying or ignoring the holiday. Even when I was in a relationship it was a day I preferred to play down, it all feels too manufactured. I don’t even like roses! The best present I ever got was a necklace with “DO ME” engraved into it, but even with genuine love of a partner and the thrills of a naughty necklace I couldn’t get into the holiday. (Disclaimer: In my effort to not sound like a crazy bitter girl, I’m aware that I may be doing the reverse.)

I’m probably somewhat jaded; I’ve spent the past five Valentine’s Days selling booze in a nightclub. Who do you think goes out to a nightclub on Valentine’s Day? Loving couples? No. Warm souls? Think again. Crazy single people who feel they need to overcompensate by celebrating their singledom in full force? Yup.

I just asked Granny if she had any plans for the holiday. She said, “Well I already ate a brownie and it’s not even lunchtime yet. I’d say I’m going all out this year.” What a lady. What a Valentine.


Senior Shuffle

The Whole Foods hooker is back in action.

Listen to our conversation during her food shop yesterday: audio

After fleeing the scene she called back, “He was doing the senior shuffle,” she said, “Ya know? You slide one foot, then ya slide the other, but ya never pick a foot up.”

Granny is a man magnet. I’m fifty years younger and there are heaps of studs in my Whole Foods. What am I doing wrong…

Insane and Diseased

God, I love Granny. She is so unfiltered and in your face it’s amazing.

Listen to our conversation about my date with Joshdate recap convo

When I told her that Josh didn’t want to have kids she said, “What do you care? You’re not marrying him. Better yet, he’ll be careful.” A perk I hadn’t yet considered.

In response to his preference on having sex after 1-2 dates, she said she would have told him, “Okay move on, because you’re insane and you may also be diseased. Sick. Sick. Sick.”

Professor Horseshoe

Last night I was invited to what I thought was a game of horseshoes by Josh, an OKCupid date. I was looking forward to a backyard game night but sadly it turned out Horse Shoe was just the name of the bar. I tried to hide my disappointment as I approached him sitting at the counter. He was waiting with a full pitcher of beer poured and ready for drinking.

Prior to our date I brushed up on his profile. I noticed we only had a 70% compatibility match. Typically the guys I go out with are 85% or higher (you know I’m a fan of statistics). On OKCupid you can see how potential mates answered compatibility questions to find where you line up. What struck me right away were his answers to these questions:

How long do you want your next relationship to last? : one night

As far as sex is concerned how long will it take?: 1-2 dates

“Ut-oh,” I thought, “Is this man gonna try to sexify me?” He was a professor at the university I had attended. If he did sex me up the 19-year old version of me would be perversely happy, but 24-year old me was wearier about his intentions.

We poured our beers and immediately got into some organic get-to-know-you chat. Then suddenly we went from “what do you do?” to “do you see yourself having kids?” I think I might be to blame for the overly personal/non-first date chat… Somehow I steered us there and then it was too late to go back. Turns out, he doesn’t want kids. Although I shouldn’t have even known that fact after an hour of drinks, it did make me think twice about him. I love kids so much, too much, I get creepy and overly grabby and goo-goo eyed around friend’s children. I don’t want them ANYTIME soon but to be with someone who doesn’t want them at all would never work out in the long-term… oh shit, I’m getting ahead of myself.

We started talking about our siblings then he asked how my older sister would describe me. I wasn’t sure so I texted to get an accurate response. She replied, “Outgoing, honest, creative, entertaining, and ambitious.” (Yes, I am totally showing off. She forgot to add mildly conceited.) She then asked why I wanted to know; I explained that I was on a date with a man who requested the answer. She replied, “That is a terrible question to ask on a first date.”

I guess she’s right, but she made me sound like a real catch so I didn’t mind. He didn’t mean to be off-based; he was new to OKCupid so he’s still getting the feel for how a date should go. He told me he’d had some weird experiences; he was invited to several orgies and swinger parties. Of course he didn’t attend (so he says) and I wouldn’t either (probably) but I did feel a little left out that I hadn’t at least gotten an invite.

He told me he was oober-secretive about his online dating; he was embarrassed and felt it was a lame way to interact with girls. I reminded him that we were on an online date.

I asked how he would describe our date to his friends. He said the three questions that would be asked were: 1. Do I look like my pictures? He agreed that I did. 2. Is my profile an accurate depiction of me? He admitted that he didn’t look at my profile, he asked me out solely on my picture. (oy) 3. Was there any chemistry? He told me it was too soon to tell.

I admitted that I had been on quite a few online dates, then he asked me if it was annoying to have to kiss the dates at the end of the night. “Who says I kiss on the first date?” I asked. His sex-driven personality was beginning to surface; he explained that of course everyone kisses after a date. Everyone except this cold prude. “Watch how I end this date without kissing you,” I said and finished my beer.

I hugged the professor, we said our goodbyes, and without smoochin’ I made my way out of Horse Shoes.

1. Does he look like his pictures?

Yes… for the most part. However, he did admit to being a master at photoshop

2. Was his profile an accurate depiction of him?

It actually was, more than most guys I’ve been out with.

3. Was there any chemistry?

I’ll say ditto to his response… (only because I’m being coy.)


Aaron suggested grabbing coffee as a date on HowAboutWe, although not the most creative of outings I liked his realistic approach. “Let’s not waste time emailing back and forth. There is less than a 10% chance we’ll hit it off. Can’t know for sure unless it’s face to face,” he wrote.

It was an uncharacteristically warm winter evening when we met up. After we grabbed our coffees and took a seat, I noticed that his face was red and sweat was brimming from his hairline. It could have been because my beauty startled him but it seemed more likely it was due to the thick peacoat that he kept buttoned up. “Aren’t you hot?” I asked, “Maybe you wanna take off a layer?” Typically I only request clothes to be stripped off in moments of seduction, but I was truly just looking out for Aaron’s comfort.

He chose to keep it on. “I liked your honest statistics on your HowAboutWe message,” I confessed. At the mention of online dating his shade of red deepened and his eyes shifted to the patrons on either side of us. He wiped more sweat from his brow.

He told me he was new to the city. I liked to hear that. He told me his only friend lives in Staten Island with his aunt and uncle and the two of them (both 30 years old) spend their free time playing Halo and smoking weed in the basement. I did not like to hear that.

In his profile he listed his profession as “film consultant”, a title I had never heard of. “What kind of consulting do you do?” I asked. Again, the sweating and redness. He got jumbled and tongue-tied trying to concoct his story.

“Well I give the writers ideas, and the editors notes, the director too, sometimes I help out the producers, and I give the marketing team selling ideas,” he said. I had never heard of such a far-reaching film role before. Why didn’t he just stick with a simple lie like “director”? Prior to his film consultant role he had an eBay business of selling vintage postcards. After further interrogation, it came out that he was also working as an extra on 30 Rock with hopes to be a stand up comic in the city. It wasn’t clear if he was practicing his schtick on me.

After an hour long coffee date, it turned out the only thing we had in common was a teeth clenching problem and a shared need for a mouth guard while sleeping. I’ll never understand what Aaron really does or why he wouldn’t take off his coat. What I did understand was the importance in more messages back and forth before meeting a stranger from the internet.

“So where do I fall?” he asked as we walked out of the café. “Am I in the 10% that hit it off for you?”

“Well…” I began.

Before I could answer he said, “I mean I don’t think we are, I think we’re like the other percentage, ya know?” I did know. We shook hands, wished each other well, and cordially went our separate ways. Although Aaron was a bit of a nut, I appreciate his respect for true chemistry. Statistics, ya can’t ignore them.

Bowl of Jello

“Is this the granddaughter who threw me under the bus?” Granny answered the phone after her date. Oh brother, I was in for it. “I don’t know where to begin or where to end,” she started, “His breath? The word putrid comes to mind.”

They sat at the sushi bar because it benefited Tim in two ways: 1) With the advantage of sitting next to her it made it easier to get some rubs and squeezes in. 2) He spent significant time in Asia so it gave him the opportunity to show off his knowledge. “He was callin’ all the shots with the sushi chef, tellin’ him how they slice and dice in Kyoto.” I would think that level of worldliness would be a turn on for my globetrotting Granny but unfortunately it was not. “I asked for brown rice on my roll, he told me that’s not how they do it in Asia. I don’t give a damn, that’s how I do it in South Florida,” she said.

“You were out for two hours-” I began before she cut me off.

“That’s right, and I had two dinners. He talked and talked and I thought what the hell? Might as well get my bang for my buck.” I love that about Granny, like me, she can eat with the best of them. “I mean kid, he only ordered one sushi boat. That’s ridiculous, everyone knows you need at least two.”

“He wanted to talk about was the ‘bowl of jello’ all night long,” she huffed.

I didn’t get it. Was this a sexual innuendo? “That’s his name for his grandson. He can’t stand the poor kid. Every time I tried to gloat about one of my gorgeous (I may have added the adjective) granddaughters it went straight back to the bowl of jello.”

By 8:00pm she told him she was tired and had to get home. “But you hate eating that early, you don’t get tired until at least midnight,” I pried.

“Kid, I was bullshitting. I played the old lady card because I didn’t want to be there anymore,” she confessed, “He walked me out to my car and I told him, ‘You’re a very talented conversationalist,’ and he was, ‘but ya gotta be easier on that kid, ya know simpatico?’”

Tim said he appreciated their chat and her advice on the matter. Before he could lean in for a kiss she prominently stuck her hand out for him to shake, “Let’s be friends,” she said.

He smiled and hugged her, “I’d like that. We should get dinner again sometime.”

“Next time I’ll try to only order one meal,” she giggled.

Granny loves biscottis, Anderson Cooper, and her grandkids more than anything in this world. It must have been tough for her to stomach a man trashing his own spawn through an entire meal. As we hung up the phone she said, “Ya know I’d never refer to you as a bowl of jello.”

“What if I really porked up though?” I asked

“Probably not, maybe as a joke, but I’d probably call ya cream pie or pudding face.”


One-Way Highway

Chatty Pants strikes again! Granny is going for round two with Tim tomorrow night. He’s a total flirt, which Granny says repulses her… I don’t buy it.

“He’s got a my way or the highway attitude,” she said, “I like the highway.” Granny’s fiercely independent and exactly the same way.

“What he wants is to go to bed,” she insisted, “The old man wants to go to bed. I don’t think he wants to invest in a second meal unless he gets some action.” Although it’s hard for me to imagine an old man trying to get frisky after a second date, Granny’s witchy intuition is often on point.

LISTEN TO OUR CALL: he wants action

I’m doing my best to get her to keep her options open and judgments to a minimum. Their date will either end in fireworks or a vicious arm wrestle.

Friends in a Hopeless Place

Yesterday I had coffee with Will. My feelings before the date hit a wide spectrum from excited to intimidated. It wasn’t so much because I thought we’d click, overwhelmed from the possibility of real sparks; it was more because after reading his HowAboutWe profile I concluded that the chances he was a psychopath were not bad, but of course that was the reason I was “intrigued” to begin with.

He posted the following dates that caught my eye:

Date Option 1. How about we… go out for drinks and you can listen to me talk about my last relationship. I’ll detail how we met, the great memories we had and what led to its downfall. I’ll conclude by talking about how awful she is and why she has made me a miserable person. If time permits, you can say a few words about yourself.

Date Option 2. How about we… We make our own hot toddies at our apartments (or your parent’s house if that’s where you live) and Skype for a couple hours. That way we can continue to browse for people that we’d actually want to go on dates with AND we can improve on our multi-tasking skills.

Date Option 3. How about we… dress up, head to a park with my buddy dave who is a professional photographer and take engagement photos. We’ll then post the photos and update our facebook relationship status to “engaged” and confuse our friends who didn’t even realize we were dating anyone.

Date Option 4. How about we… Get a box of Oreos, go to times square and flip a coin to see who has to throw each one at a police officer. First one to get arrested loses and spends the night in jail.

His dates were the first that made me laugh. I was pretty sure they were jokes but they were still the most creative ones I saw on the site. I clicked “Intrigued” for the first one. He then messaged me back to try and talk me out of the date. I wouldn’t budge. He clearly had a sarcastic, albeit dark, sense of humor that I was attracted to.

I gave him my number and he called. This was the first time I’ve talked on the phone with someone prior to meeting them on a date. I know that’s typical protocol for many online daters, including Granny, but so far I’ve only dealt with men of the 21st century who stick strictly with readable communication (i.e. online messages, emails, texts, and sexts).

Our phone conversation was just as bizarre as his date suggestions. I was unsure of what was sincere and what was bullshit. He played me Rihanna’s “We Found Love” and asked me if the chorus “we found love in a hopeless place” reminded me of the online dating process. I was sold.

I knew what I was getting myself into, on his profile he answered: “For me, a first date no-no is: being serious.” And, “What I would bring to show and tell: 2 dozen mice and a lock for the door. A story you should remind me to tell you on our first date: I brought two dozen mice to show and tell and locked the door on everyone.”

We grabbed a coffee at a café in Union Square. As soon as we spotted each other neither of us knew how to react. We had an awkward introduction until I asked him to please recount the story (fictional or realistic) of his last relationship as he said he would on the website

He began to get into it, “She slept with my dad… and my mom… then my brother caught them,” he joked, but in person it was hard for him to keep up his schtick. “Okay, she’s actually a super sweet girl. We dated for six years, since high school, but neither of us were ready to get married so we broke up,” he confessed.

We both cracked up, settled down, and dropped our guards. He was clearly taking the piss out of the site but I was still amused. Now that the band-aid was peeled back on his ex, he let his theory on relationships flow. We talked about how when you’ve had a serious relationship fail at such a young age, in our society where marriage is a crumbling institution, it’s hard to let yourself seriously fall for someone again.

Now he’s basically just looking for a girl to attend all of his buddies weddings with and maybe grab a beer or two during the week. Commitment seemed to terrify him. He told me about how he likes online dating because it’s an ego-boost. He’s very self-confident and finds that he is able to dominate conversations and work on his game through online dates. He told his friend before our date, “This girl, she thinks she’s gonna win, but I’m gonna win.”

I tilted my head and gave him a look that read, “Come on, bud, we both  know whose in charge here.”

“Yeah, I think this one is a draw,” he said. Then he gave me some advice, “You’re very self-assured, I think it’s probably intimidating to the guys you’re meeting from the sites.” I know he didn’t mean it as a compliment but I chose to take it as one anyway.

We crossed into friend territory very fast. We looked around the coffee shop and decided that anyone who looked at our table would assume we had been pals for years. We were definitely like-minded people, masters of TMI. Will was more than intriguing. We were both clear on the fact that romantically we’d both slaughter each other but we as friends we’d kill it. Next time we hang we’re gonna go with date option number 4.