Vital Stats: 6’2”, 40, full head of dark hair with threads
of gray, PhD guy (something having to do with research and electronic medical
records). He'd recently relocated to NYC from the Pacific Northwest and either he wasn’t yet
spoiled and hadn’t yet realized that New York City was a playground for single
men or he was spoiled and had realized it. Aesthetic: Business casual.
Demeanor: Something about him—other than his smooth, unlined face—seemed a lot younger
than 40.
What Happened: I came out the other side of the weekend
during which I was supposed to have been with #113 in pretty fine shape—and
with an OKCupid date set for Monday.
#139 and I arranged to meet at a bar on St. Marks. I got there
before he did—i.e., he was late. When he walked in, he grinned spontaneously,
which made me not care that he was late. Oh,
he’s interested, I thought, relaxing into things and then thinking, This is going to be easy.
For the next 90 minutes, sitting on his bar stool with his whole body turned toward me, he didn’t stop grinning at me. Oh, definitely interested,
I thought as I exercised my expert body-language-reading skills.
He told me about himself. He’d moved to NYC last fall from
Portland, where he’d earned his doctorate. He lived in Kip’s Bay, worked on the
Upper East Side, had joined a band and was generally enjoying NYC.
We joked. We laughed. We talked about how because
Manhattanites are generally cursed with too-small apartments that don’t allow
for dinner parties that Brooklynites with bigger apartments should really be
throwing more dinner parties.
“People in Brooklyn need to start an adopt-a-Manhattanite
program,” he joked. I laughed. I caught myself throwing in an extra laugh or two
in a show of enthusiasm.
My level of interest was at a medium. He was tall and cute
and awkward in a good way. The way he hunched over to come down to my level, he
appeared uncool, and, seeing as I’m looking for someone uncool, it was
good.
At the end, he said he had to get up early to show a VIP
around at work. We walked to the corner of 1st Ave. and St.
Marks. He still had that glint of interest in his eye and said, “So, this was
fun, would you like to get together again?”
“That sounds great,” I said.
“Let me get your number,” he said. He slid next to me,
standing close and holding his phone so I could watch him put my number in. His
arm touched mine.
We hugged and he nipped me with an awkward cheek kiss that got part of my ear. I
turned and walked toward home. Thirty seconds later, he texted me: “Thanks for
the fun time!”
I texted back: “Aw, thank you!”
And then a wave of doubt washed over me as I remembered
something #111 had once said: “If a guy texts you immediately after a date, it
means you won’t be hearing from him again.” It had proved to be true on at
least one occasion…but this guy seemed so interested.
Signs of Hope: He was acting so interested. And I was acting interested
enough.
Red Flags: Something about him did seem really young.
Turning Point: Four days passed after my date with #139 and
I’d heard nothing. Maybe he was just really good at acting interested.
Diagnosis: For him: Why act so interested if you’re not?
Maybe in his nine months in New York, he had been spoiled. Or maybe he’d
arrived that way.
For me: It’s really no big loss because I was on the fence
anyway. But it does give me pause…
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