Eli and I texted steadily over Memorial Day weekend; he seemed perky, intelligent and music loving. He revealed that he plays in a cover band with old lawyer friends and sent me Youtube videos of himself playing guitar. I agreed to a Wednesday evening drink in the middle of an intensely busy market week- I am committed to trolling for Internet dates!
I walk from my office, vibrating and nauseous, and almost turn back five times. Like a teenager, I get a pep talk from a girlfriend- what exquisite torture the first Tinder date can be! I slyly circled the block, groaning audibly to myself (I do the same during pap smears) while I walked, and spotted him standing in front of the hotel where we were due to have rooftop drinks. I realize quickly he spotted me first, and in what will become a common theme in these Tinder dates, he catches me circling the block. He is wearing Nantucket red chinos and brand new Adidas, and will later show me his very spiffy socks. He didn't lie on his profile- he is Tinder 5'10", which is actually 5'8" in real life.
As we head into the elevator that is sure to take us to paradise, a young urban fellow with face tattoos looks at Eli and says, "Dude, is this neighborhood dangerous? Do I need to bring my gun? I don't want to have to kill no one." To Eli's credit, he is completely unratttled and calmly says, "No, man, neighborhood is fine, but do what you got to do". The young urban fellow looks impressed that a short Jewish lawyer doesn't sweat for a second.
We have mediocre wine at a very odd rooftop bar that uses a boombox to funnel in music, and he begins to talk about himself. He recently moved from the West Village to Chelsea and is hoping that the neighborhood will be as lively. He is visibly worried that he will not have his creature comforts in this new backwater area- I nod and assure him that he will most likely survive. He shows me pictures of rugs he is thinking about buying and quickly scrolls past endless photos of boobs and vaginas and various tan body parts. After two hours of listening to Eli talk about his marvelous self, I tell him I really must get home but I sincerely enjoyed meeting him. At a minimum, I ripped off the band aid and got myself back in the dating scene. He tries to kiss me and I just barely dodge his advance. I hop on the subway, and immediately begin swiping up fresh meat.
DATE ONE- Showed up, and didn't throw up! I call this success!
WEATHER REPORT- A fresh and fragrant evening in Manhattan, enhanced by low clouds of electronic cigarette fumes.
WINE SELECTION- When one can only select from Chardonnay or Pinot Grigio, one realizes that there is no winning selection.
As we head into the elevator that is sure to take us to paradise, a young urban fellow with face tattoos looks at Eli and says, "Dude, is this neighborhood dangerous? Do I need to bring my gun? I don't want to have to kill no one." To Eli's credit, he is completely unratttled and calmly says, "No, man, neighborhood is fine, but do what you got to do". The young urban fellow looks impressed that a short Jewish lawyer doesn't sweat for a second.
We have mediocre wine at a very odd rooftop bar that uses a boombox to funnel in music, and he begins to talk about himself. He recently moved from the West Village to Chelsea and is hoping that the neighborhood will be as lively. He is visibly worried that he will not have his creature comforts in this new backwater area- I nod and assure him that he will most likely survive. He shows me pictures of rugs he is thinking about buying and quickly scrolls past endless photos of boobs and vaginas and various tan body parts. After two hours of listening to Eli talk about his marvelous self, I tell him I really must get home but I sincerely enjoyed meeting him. At a minimum, I ripped off the band aid and got myself back in the dating scene. He tries to kiss me and I just barely dodge his advance. I hop on the subway, and immediately begin swiping up fresh meat.
DATE ONE- Showed up, and didn't throw up! I call this success!
WEATHER REPORT- A fresh and fragrant evening in Manhattan, enhanced by low clouds of electronic cigarette fumes.
WINE SELECTION- When one can only select from Chardonnay or Pinot Grigio, one realizes that there is no winning selection.
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