Vital Stats: 45,
5’8” (supposedly), dark-haired, goofy-smiled executive recruiter with
near-sighted glasses.
First Date: Coffee
at Via Della Pace on East 7th Street.
What Happened: After
finishing “Calling in the One” with Eva, I decided to dip my toe back into the
dating pool and went back on OKCupid for the first time since the fiasco with
#133 with a renewed sense of purpose: I put my real age down and made it clear
that I was looking for something long term.
I’d intentionally overlooked #134 on OKCupid, thinking him
to be nerdy, but then, out with Nora one night at the MOMA for a Cindy
Sherman exhibit, I got out my phone to exhibit my online bachelors, including
him. “Oh, he’s cute,” she said. “You should go out with him.”
I’d forgotten his profile said he was 5’8” because in his
pictures he looked like he could have been 6’, so when I walked up to him, he
was, of course, really 5’6” or 5’7” and I matched his height in my heels. I was not attracted, but he did seem nice—and harmless.
We got a table inside Via Della Pace and ordered coffee. He
was a good talker, which immediately put me at ease because that meant I didn’t
have to talk much. I discovered all kinds of interesting things about him. He
grew up on a horse farm and was a competitive rider in his youth. He got his
haircut by a gay guy in east midtown. He owned an industrial espresso machine
and had combined two one-bedroom apartments to make his huge two-bedroom
apartment.
As he talked, I began to notice that, behind him, the restaurant was
filling with gorgeous Italian men—real Italian men, speaking Italian and
everything. I tried to focus. #134 went on: All his brothers were lawyers,
including one who was an award-winning documentary filmmaker by night and a
confirmed bachelor. “As soon as I hear that one of his relationships is getting
serious, I know it’s about to end,” he said. (Now, his brother I would probably
be attracted to.)
#134 also said he’d had a few long-term relationships and a
previous marriage. Elaborating on the idea of long-term relationships, he said,
“There’s something wrong with someone who’s in their late 30s or early 40s and has
never been in a long-term relationship, don’t you think? People who haven’t had
a long-term relationship don’t know how to give. They’re just selfish.”
Somewhere, the gongs of doom rang. My last long-term
relationship was fifteen years ago. I gulped. Without knowing it, he’d just
kicked me in the gut. But I just nodded as if I totally agreed: People who haven’t had long-term relationships—the lepers.
“I didn’t just insult you, did I?” he asked. I must not have
had quite the poker face that I thought I had.
“Oh, no, of course not,” I said.
I didn’t really hear what he said after that. I had a lot of
self-reflection to do. And now I was really distracted by the hot Italians.
There was definitely something wrong with me. I excused myself to go to the
bathroom and frowned at myself in the mirror. I've always thought of myself as being interested in long-term relationships but my dating history pointed to the contrary.
I took a deep breath and left the bathroom. He didn’t exactly insult me but, with that comment, he did manage to guilt me into agreeing to a second date. We finished our coffee, he paid and walked me to the corner and I
gave him my phone number. After we parted ways, I stopped into a deli and bought a
pack of cigarettes, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a lottery ticket—the
hallmarks of a disappointing date.
I called Eva, who’s financially struggling and trying to
date a non-committal ex-con, and told her about how #134 was successful and into long-term
relationships. “Would he like me, do you think? Could he support both
you and me?” she asked.
And then I came home to my one true long-term relationship: Molly
McButter, my 13-year-old cat, who rolled over so I could rub her big, fluffy belly.
Signs of Hope:
He's clearly into long-term relationships. And he's successful. And he picks up the check.
Red Flags: I’m
just so not attracted to him.
Turning Point:
When he nailed me—my supposed problem, I mean.
Diagnosis: For
him: He seems pretty available.
For me: Am I just one of those selfish people who doesn’t
know how to compromise?
