The Men I Dated Next (to publish upon leaving town)
After My Big Heartbreak last summer, I couldn't imagine sitting across the table with another man and feeling attracted/attractive/happy/hopeful again. At first I needed some time to be by myself, to practice self-care and mourn the loss of what had been so far my greatest love, but eventually just like Stella I finally got my groove back. I am so glad I did because this is who I met:
First there was Romeo, sweet sweet Romeo. It wasn't his real name, but it came from a charming misunderstanding and since he was getting a PhD in theater, I just went with it. He had thin rimmed circular Harry Potter glasses, and his British accent really did make everything that came out of his lips sound so sweet. Even the way he said, *Amanda?* when I walked into the bar where we had our first date made me blush. Then *rubbish* and *flatmate* and *brilliant.* When he asked me once, *Do I have hot chocolate in my whiskers?* I almost died. Though Romeo was British, his kisses were french. We only spent a few evenings together, and it all ended completely amicably. Still, running into him and the woman he was dating a few months later on Valentine's Day was still *rather unfortunate*. I'll always be grateful for Romeo for reminding me that I wasn't totally broken on the inside, and in fact "I still got it."
The 6'4" bearded ginger I dubbed "KFC" for his Colonel Sanders tattoo was truly a breath of fresh air. We met for our first date at a speak easy in Fort Greene, and we drank the fanciest little cocktails which he paid for. KFC was a rare combination of being a true adult--he flossed regularly, had pets and an office with a door--but also was so fun and silly. I loved that he was so eager to learn about me, rather then drone on about himself the whole time. I would come to find out later that the reason he preferred to talk about me was that his life was very intertwined with his roommate, who also happened to be his serious live-in girlfriend. That was an important piece of information that he left out of our conversations but was unearthed thanks to some light social media stalking. I of course called him out on his having a girlfriend, and he confessed to some lies but not all. I felt angry and disappointed, but if I had learned anything from my Big Heartbreak, it was that life is too short to date liars. (I found out months later that he moved to Louisville, KY to work for, wait for it wait for it, KFC corporate). I can't make this stuff up.
I met Squid* at a divvy but delicious burrito bar on a Sunday afternoon. He checked a lot of boxes--he was tall, from Michigan, went to art school and worked in publishing. He was very clumsy and I thought it was pretty adorkable. For our second date, he offered to make me dinner, *squid tacos (!!), and then go dancing at a old bluesy-bar in Red Hook where he meets his friends every Wednesday night. Dinner was nice, but the best part of the evening was my introduction to a bar in Red Hook known as Sunny's, a place I will never forget. We danced in a crowded room with creaky wooden floors and strings of Christmas Lights to Smokey Hormel's band "Smokey's Roundup." We danced slow and silly and to the beat of the music and to the beat of our own. At one point while dancing, he brushed my hair back and put his cold tumbler of whiskey against the back of my neck to cool me down. I'm pretty sure that is the smoothest thing Squid had ever done, and I loved it. Things got weird with Squid later on in the week which is a longer story, so I never saw him again after that night, but twirling with him at 1AM on a Wednesday while Smokey belted tunes in the background will go down as one my favorite dating moments of all time. The squid tacos were just okay.
"Harvard" is a guy from Mississippi that I went out with a few times who had studied engineering at, you guessed it, Harvard. The night before our first date, he called me on the phone to discuss plans. Let me repeat that; HE CALLED ME ON THE PHONE. It is 2016 and that almost never happens to me anymore. We talked for almost an hour before we had even met, and it was so refreshing! He was very brilliant, and I will say that talking/debating with him made me feel smarter too. When we met a few days later, Harvard and I had one of those first dates that just never ends, but in a good way. We bopped from bar to bar to restaurant to bar all over his neighborhood in the East village, smooching on street corners and making shadow puppets in the basement of a pub on Bleeker street. We talked and saw each other for a few weeks following, but the ivy league attitude that I had at first found alluring quickly became seriously insufferable. Also I realized that though he was quick to mansplain complex theories of physics to me, dude had no idea how to engage in appropriate social behavior with women. I'll leave it at that. He had to go.
The Detective was so different from the men that I usually date (writers, philosophers, art school graduates), and I was drawn to this about him. He was an Irish-Catholic, Long Island raised, gun-carrying MAN, and I was into it. It also didn't hurt that I'm also obsessed with Law&Order + all things true crime, and I hung on every word as he told me stories of chasing down robbers and conducting drug raids. It was RIVETING. Though he had a hard exterior (arms covered in tattoos, calloused hands from weight lifting), he spoke softly and with intention (and with a thick Long Island accent). He had only ever smoked one cigarette (me too!), and I could tell he was someone who took care of business and of himself. I suspected that the Detective was recently out of a relationship because he would bring his ex up in stories that didn't demand her mention. I was familiar with that impulse, to say someone's name just because you miss him/her. Eventually the Detective and I stopped texting each other, a sort of mutual ghosting, which just happens sometimes. I'm glad for his crime stories though and mostly grateful to be reminded of what it's like to stand next to a man who is strong all on his own. I really like that.
The Comedian asked me out in February but didn't follow though until mid-March when he texted me out of the blue, "What ever happened to us?" We tried to coordinate our schedules but eventually post-poned until sometime in April. Two weeks in April passed and I texted him out of the blue, "What ever happened to us?" I told him that I was moving to Denver in 7 weeks, but we decided that there was no harm in meeting up anyway, and finally on April 20th, we met at a bar in Williamsburg. I googled him before we met (obviously) and learned that he had a PhD in neuroscience but now is "doing the stand-up comedy thang." Could there BE a more attractive combination?? At one point on our first date, I looked at him sitting across from me, and I thought, "Oh no! I think I liiike him." Luckily he turned out to be late all the time and flaked semi-regularly and was a truly horrible texter, but even amidst all that, I really did liiiike him. He was such a fun and welcome distraction from the chaos in my life at the time and such a great one to end on. Then I moved, and that's what happened to us.
First there was Romeo, sweet sweet Romeo. It wasn't his real name, but it came from a charming misunderstanding and since he was getting a PhD in theater, I just went with it. He had thin rimmed circular Harry Potter glasses, and his British accent really did make everything that came out of his lips sound so sweet. Even the way he said, *Amanda?* when I walked into the bar where we had our first date made me blush. Then *rubbish* and *flatmate* and *brilliant.* When he asked me once, *Do I have hot chocolate in my whiskers?* I almost died. Though Romeo was British, his kisses were french. We only spent a few evenings together, and it all ended completely amicably. Still, running into him and the woman he was dating a few months later on Valentine's Day was still *rather unfortunate*. I'll always be grateful for Romeo for reminding me that I wasn't totally broken on the inside, and in fact "I still got it."
The 6'4" bearded ginger I dubbed "KFC" for his Colonel Sanders tattoo was truly a breath of fresh air. We met for our first date at a speak easy in Fort Greene, and we drank the fanciest little cocktails which he paid for. KFC was a rare combination of being a true adult--he flossed regularly, had pets and an office with a door--but also was so fun and silly. I loved that he was so eager to learn about me, rather then drone on about himself the whole time. I would come to find out later that the reason he preferred to talk about me was that his life was very intertwined with his roommate, who also happened to be his serious live-in girlfriend. That was an important piece of information that he left out of our conversations but was unearthed thanks to some light social media stalking. I of course called him out on his having a girlfriend, and he confessed to some lies but not all. I felt angry and disappointed, but if I had learned anything from my Big Heartbreak, it was that life is too short to date liars. (I found out months later that he moved to Louisville, KY to work for, wait for it wait for it, KFC corporate). I can't make this stuff up.
I met Squid* at a divvy but delicious burrito bar on a Sunday afternoon. He checked a lot of boxes--he was tall, from Michigan, went to art school and worked in publishing. He was very clumsy and I thought it was pretty adorkable. For our second date, he offered to make me dinner, *squid tacos (!!), and then go dancing at a old bluesy-bar in Red Hook where he meets his friends every Wednesday night. Dinner was nice, but the best part of the evening was my introduction to a bar in Red Hook known as Sunny's, a place I will never forget. We danced in a crowded room with creaky wooden floors and strings of Christmas Lights to Smokey Hormel's band "Smokey's Roundup." We danced slow and silly and to the beat of the music and to the beat of our own. At one point while dancing, he brushed my hair back and put his cold tumbler of whiskey against the back of my neck to cool me down. I'm pretty sure that is the smoothest thing Squid had ever done, and I loved it. Things got weird with Squid later on in the week which is a longer story, so I never saw him again after that night, but twirling with him at 1AM on a Wednesday while Smokey belted tunes in the background will go down as one my favorite dating moments of all time. The squid tacos were just okay.
"Harvard" is a guy from Mississippi that I went out with a few times who had studied engineering at, you guessed it, Harvard. The night before our first date, he called me on the phone to discuss plans. Let me repeat that; HE CALLED ME ON THE PHONE. It is 2016 and that almost never happens to me anymore. We talked for almost an hour before we had even met, and it was so refreshing! He was very brilliant, and I will say that talking/debating with him made me feel smarter too. When we met a few days later, Harvard and I had one of those first dates that just never ends, but in a good way. We bopped from bar to bar to restaurant to bar all over his neighborhood in the East village, smooching on street corners and making shadow puppets in the basement of a pub on Bleeker street. We talked and saw each other for a few weeks following, but the ivy league attitude that I had at first found alluring quickly became seriously insufferable. Also I realized that though he was quick to mansplain complex theories of physics to me, dude had no idea how to engage in appropriate social behavior with women. I'll leave it at that. He had to go.
The Detective was so different from the men that I usually date (writers, philosophers, art school graduates), and I was drawn to this about him. He was an Irish-Catholic, Long Island raised, gun-carrying MAN, and I was into it. It also didn't hurt that I'm also obsessed with Law&Order + all things true crime, and I hung on every word as he told me stories of chasing down robbers and conducting drug raids. It was RIVETING. Though he had a hard exterior (arms covered in tattoos, calloused hands from weight lifting), he spoke softly and with intention (and with a thick Long Island accent). He had only ever smoked one cigarette (me too!), and I could tell he was someone who took care of business and of himself. I suspected that the Detective was recently out of a relationship because he would bring his ex up in stories that didn't demand her mention. I was familiar with that impulse, to say someone's name just because you miss him/her. Eventually the Detective and I stopped texting each other, a sort of mutual ghosting, which just happens sometimes. I'm glad for his crime stories though and mostly grateful to be reminded of what it's like to stand next to a man who is strong all on his own. I really like that.
The Comedian asked me out in February but didn't follow though until mid-March when he texted me out of the blue, "What ever happened to us?" We tried to coordinate our schedules but eventually post-poned until sometime in April. Two weeks in April passed and I texted him out of the blue, "What ever happened to us?" I told him that I was moving to Denver in 7 weeks, but we decided that there was no harm in meeting up anyway, and finally on April 20th, we met at a bar in Williamsburg. I googled him before we met (obviously) and learned that he had a PhD in neuroscience but now is "doing the stand-up comedy thang." Could there BE a more attractive combination?? At one point on our first date, I looked at him sitting across from me, and I thought, "Oh no! I think I liiike him." Luckily he turned out to be late all the time and flaked semi-regularly and was a truly horrible texter, but even amidst all that, I really did liiiike him. He was such a fun and welcome distraction from the chaos in my life at the time and such a great one to end on. Then I moved, and that's what happened to us.
I LOVE this! Please, please write a book! Your life is so exciting!
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