Double Fisting the Dating Scene (maybe I need to re-word that)

Last week without much to do I signed up for EHarmony making me now a two-fer wanna be internet dater. For weeks friends told me to join eHarmony, people whom I respected and admired, people who’d found not only boyfriends but husbands begged me to join eHarmony, but yet I refused. I had been burned before by ol’ eHarmony and I wasn’t about to poor more money into their scheme. No I was sticking with my pathetic 3 month Match.com membership and that was that. Then the Today Show jumped onto the bandwagon and demanded that I join eHarmony. They practically reached through my 8” 1981 color TV, grabbed me by the collar and insisted that I join eHarmony not only because I was dateless but because their membership had jumped 20% since the recession. Hmmm this did seem like good news but I still was not convinced enough to break out the Visa card. The last straw came in the form of an email, the fates finally put the beat down on me by delivering an eHarmony discount code directly to my inbox – I was hooked. Fine, FINE, just get off my back “voice from the unknown” I’ll join eHarmony.

So here I am 1.5 weeks into my eHarmony experience, a little weary from structuring endless witty responses to dreary questions BUT I have a date. Yes, David from the Upper East Side (Jew, maybe?) is taking me out on Monday night for an actual face to face interaction. He seems pleasant, kinda gets my humor, maybe a bit reserved (but that’s OK) and appears to be engaged and attentive (both very good traits). So we’ll see how this goes, if nothing else I will at least score a free Tom Collins and get to wear my new gladiator inspired strappy wedge sandals.

In addition to my good luck with EHarmony I finally received a cleaver Match.com email. Short but witty (the email, not the guy) however it’s still too early to tell if this will go someplace or just fizzle out. Stay tuned.

Cocktails, Balls, and A Boy At A Urinal

Just a few little tid bits that never really amounted to a full post this week :

Monday night was another free drink fest hosted by my office building’s concierge service. Pix (one of my favorite long lost gays) and I stood atop a roof lounge between the Empire State Building and the golden turret of the NY Life Building enjoying our free bee Bombay Sapphire Gin cocktails while tearing apart the fashion (hardly) choices of the surrounding guests. Lot’s of sloppy boobs, bad spray tans, and at least one twenty something in a borrowed suit 3 sizes too big. The highlight of my night was discovering my new signature drink - ta ta G&T, and hello Tom Collins! How retro 60’s of me. I swear I was built for the bombshell era and now with my Tom Collins in hand…. I am ready for my time machine.

Tuesday was Bastille Day and in celebration Jesus and I went to Barolo for an Italian dinner. Upon entering we were faced with a rowdy group of red faced French men (ooh la la) playing petanque in the restaurant’s roomy back garden. As fate would have it just hours before dinner the co-workers and I were researching petanque and agreed, after looking at the official FPUSA (Federation of Petanque USA) website, I would probably have better chances of scoring a date if I joined an officially sanctioned NYC petanque team than if I stay on Match.com. The pictures show hardy teams of grinning floppy haired Frenchmen enjoying big French Provincial meals and several bottles of red wine – and why am I not playing petanque? Oh and for a mere $20 registration fee I can obtain my official USA petanque credentials so I could compete in the national tournaments. Vivre la France!

On Sunday after my lazy day in the hammock I took a detour over to PS 1 since I was in desperate need of a bathroom. I hightailed it past their summertime environment installation

(looked like Frank Gehry meets Snuffleupagus) zipped past the admissions counter, with a quick smile and a wave, then down the stairs to the WC. As far as I could tell there was only one restroom, I looked at the door for any gender demarcation but there was none. I quickly searched the hallway for another such facility and again nothing so considering PS1 is avant garde I went with the whole Gender Non-specific situation and made a beeline for one of the 2 open stalls. The stalls were fully contained rooms with doors that went from floor to ceiling…ahh ha this is why it is all genders all the time, unfortunately when I exited my private pisser I was forced into a VERY public situation that I was not prepared for. There I was face to back with a young man who was mid stream in his urinal experience – whoopsie! Unsure of how to react he put his head down and sped up his task at hand, I trying to appear ‘cool’ and oh so “avant garde” sidestepped it over to the sinks to quickly wash my hands (running out into the hallway would have been so prosaic). (the following is my internal monologue) - Turn water on…TURN WATER ON….. crap no water, ok move to next sink…good lord who designed this place we have a half wall between us, our shoulders are touching…. ok now just some soap …no not the MIRROR yikes, (half smile as we both regard each others’ countenance in the reflection of the mirror in front of me)...ok I don’t need soap, look back down…. now for a paper towel and I’ll be out of here but where is the paper towel dispenser?...please don’t think I am stalking you peeing man…. I am just looking for a towel…. WTF!!??? It is on the wall next to his right arm!!! Nope no paper towel I’m good…. wipe hands on pants and I’m OUT! What is it with me and bathrooms, maybe this is why I never go?

Discovering your own backyard

Living in my 24 hour city becomes a bit overwhelming at times. The quantity of entertainment options are limitless yet it’s the vastness of the offerings that can stunt my motivation to actually participate. If I miss something no big deal there will be another new show, new exhibit, new whatever in 10 minutes. This past weekend however I made an internal pact that I would take a journey of discovery and visit a new local locale.

Friday night began with a few bottles of wine atop Swason’s Astoria abode. Yes I did call Astoria my home years back however I never sat on my roof and drank wine on a cool summer’s night – I lived in a basement. This act of semi-illegal behavior, though very lovely, was not conducted in order to satisfy my stated goal of a journey of discovery it was simply a nice way to kick off my weekend – and finally prove to Swason that I could drink like the Irish stock from whence I have sprung.

Day 2 of my quest – not so much discovery but I took a journey. LIRR out to Long Beach to put some quality time into my tan – mission accomplished!

Day 3 –Sunday morning, a bright yellow sun and sparkling blue sky beckoned to me as I began to weigh my options for the day’s J of D (that’s journey of discovery). I was torn between two unknown mistresses luring me out into the wiles of the sweeping city; Gantry Park in Long Island City or the grand opening of The High Line in Manhattan. After quickly completing my cerebral list of pros and cons Gantry Park won hands down – mostly because I assumed it would be less likely overrun with hot smelly crowds and avoiding malodorous masses is my main goal for any excursion.

Hopped onto my ol’ 7 train with my wearever chair strapped to my back filled with my survival gear (water, book, grapes, etc…) and 6 minutes later I was exiting at Vernon Boulevard in the middle of nowhere. Yes there really is a reason that for 12 years I have never seen anybody enter or exit the 7 train at the Vernon Boulevard station. Once above ground, using the sun as my guide, I navigated westward past the abandoned one story cinderblock warehouses to the high-rise luxury condos perched on the edge of the East River. The river, just steps away, lapped at the organically manicured man made shoreline bursting with wild pink roses and swaying sea grasses. I had made it – it was GANTRY PARK!

The park consists of piers, winding shady pathways, a riverside board walk equipped with lounging chairs, a rolly polly green space that beckons to be enjoyed by bare feet, a round seating area that is magically misted from below by fine sprays of water and a small row of bright orange hammocks. I thankfully scored the hammock with the best unobstructed view of both the Empire State Building and the U.N. (FYI delegates – your building needs a good power wash). True the bright orange strapping of the hammocks, though comfortable, was a bit reminiscent of those cargo nets one finds on the docks in Newark so I never quite relaxed into a deep rest for I was concerned that a barge with a large crane might take advantage of the situation and use me as ballast for a training drill.

Like Bees To Honey

I’ve re-read my add on Match.com ten times over and I still don’t understand why my cleverly composed advertisement only succeeds in soliciting responses from men who are illiterate and delusional. In the past week I have yet to win a response from any of the thirty funky/ nerdy/ nebishy/ arty/ chunky/ alternative-ish dudes of whom I have contacted – however they have all checked out my posting. Hmmmmm…… Who the heck am I up against that these guys are all…nahhhh I don’t think so? Seriously I’m not checking off the Upper East Side doctors or the Connecticut hedge fund guys, I’m poking the “I’m in a band and work weird hours” guys.

Now for your reading pleasure I submit to you the ONLY match.com emails I received over the past 4 days:

I just want someone who we can both make each other laugh (I’m not sure but I think this guy is looking for us to get together then find a third person, preferably a clown, to entertain us both.)

on my free time , i love talk on fone with fiends, specialy with my sisters, be with my daughter, love watch soccer game, love go to atlantic city, six flag, meet peoplesi ve good intention, im one of the honest person, you llever meet, i ve good faith in god ,i go to church . god bless you

i'm not jealous, just want to find someone who has the same values and who wants to be treat the way she deserves to be treated. Love spending time together cuddling and kissing. waiting on her is something i think is important to make her feel like she should always be treated for fun: spending quality time with woman who enjoys being treated like a queen

Two Birds One Stone

This lady got needs and currently I have two very pressing needs, 1 – a guy to date, 2 – somebody to install my two window air conditioners. Yes I CAN install my ACs, I’ve been doing it for 7 years but it would be sooooo great if there was another set of hands to help. Lugging them out of the closet, dragging them across the apartment, balancing them on the window sill 4 flights up from the sidewalk below as I precariously wedge loose bricks under the bottom edge to help reduce the risk of “flip out” – I’m kinda done. Last year I was almost decapitated when just seconds after pulling my head back into my apartment my circa 1929 window broke loose from its track and came slamming down full force. Unfortunately my left arm was not as lucky as my head; it was splayed across the top of the unit with my fingers wrapped around the outer edge of the AC. I don’t know how I was able to lift the entire weight of the window off my arm with just my free 4 stubby fingers while not loosing the appliance or passing out from the pain, but I did it and as a souvenir I rocked an oozing black and green bruise for weeks.

Fast forward to summer 2009 and once again it is time to re-install my units but this time I thought I would do the very smart thing and post on my facebook – for all 154 friends to see – my need for help. Not only did I post that I needed help I even offered up a pint and a cheeseburger from Donovan’s (voted NYC’s best burger by TONY) and guess what, the ONLY person who responded was Q in NC promising that if she was in NYC she would lend a hand. Really, really? WTF!? It would even be cool if Scooter offered to do it when he visits at the end of the month however he and Galleta’s have decided not to respond to voice mails or emails. Yep I just called both of you out in the blog – but I have no worries of any repercussions since Galleta is MIA and Scooter recently informed me that he’s just too busy to return calls, reply to emails or read the blog anymore.

While bemoaning my fate to an old friend (name withheld) she suggested a very creative solution to both my needs (#1 and #2). She recommended that I post an add on craigslist.com offering a buffet of torrid services in return for AC installation. At first I shrugged off this strategy however as the temperature rises and Match.com has been unable to locate at least one “mutual match” out of their 16 million subscribers, this raunchy plan is shockingly gaining my approval.
In closing please share in the horror of the only email I received yesterday from Match.com. While you are reading this please picture a fat balding 55 year old man in a Hawaiian shirt, gold chains, faded tight jeans, white socks, and cream colored pointed-toe shoe-boots lounging in a leather office chair with one hand on his crotch and the other holding a telephone receiver to his ear.

you will fall in love

HI MY NAME IS (removed) WOULD LIKE TO MEET FOR DRINKS THISN WEEK I LIVE AN WORK IN THE CITY, 917*399-(removed) CALL U WILL HAVE FUN,,

Gone Fishing

Onto day two of “Match-fest 2009” and even though I have not garnered a response from the 12 gents I reached out to, I’m still keeping the faith. I have committed to searching at least 200 profiles per day and with only 12 ‘hits’ out of 400 profiles… I think this may take awhile. On the receiving end I have been the recipient of 7 ‘winks’, one email, and one tedious 6 minute IM session during which my male pursuer informed me that I was “cool” a total of 5 times then when I refused his request for my personal email address he responded with, “well then will you just go out with me”, I said no. As for the email I received – here it is:

hello, i'm not into describing myself since every time i sit in front of this box, i loose all the words, but i'm very open minded and easy going person that like to have fun and live his life happy and quiet.

I’m intrigued by this mysterious ‘word swiping box’ that the author alludes to in his email and I wonder - if this lexiconian Bermuda triangle is so offensive then why doesn’t the wordless Romeo just change his location when writing? Oh well I guess I will just have to live with the mystery because I already deleted this easy going guy who doesn’t like to conjugate verbs.

Back in the Mix

Last night while not installing my two air conditioners I re-registered on Match.com. I feel like I have to do something to meet a guy and even though I have been on and off Match for over ten years (yikes) and have never met anybody I am still optimistic that I will find that arty confident needle in the haystack. I tried in earnest in February to really focus on my Match subscription, hitting it hard for hours every night, searching profiles, emailing, ‘winking” but after 2.5 weeks of chumming the waters in the hopes of snagging a dude who would pony up for some drinks to justify my $32 subscription fee not only did I not bag a single response I also was laid off. Being laid off with no savings and two grad school student loans tends to put a damper on one’s flirting ability so I was forced to quickly shift my obsessive focus from Match.com to Monster.com. Now that I am gainfully employed and have traded in my winter bluish skim milk pallor for a good “starter tan” I am primed for the hunt (I guess). I even bit the bullet and prepaid $75 for a three month membership. I usually only purchase a month’s subscription because at day 27 I lose momentum and throw in the towel but now I can’t shrug off my responsibilities to continually search the postings of the 30 – 45 year old male populous who inhabit the 30 mile radius around Metro NY.

On Match, like most web dating sites, you have to log in and search profiles frequently or else your profile gets pushed to the bottom of the pile, the more time spent searching the better your chances are at getting found, especially since it is about a 2:1 ratio of woman to men in my age group and geographic location. Please note this ratio includes all the married guys who are lying about their status, the 5’5” guys who state that they are 5’9”, the guys who post a full add but never pay for a subscription just so they can feed their ego, and the Nigerians. Then there is the self marketing side of the equation and since “it takes a village” I am posting my actual add here in hopes that you will weigh in with your edits and or comments:

I'm a smarty pants artistic chick who’s sensitive and sappy when I am not bitingly witty. I have a quick tongue, a great sense of humor, and I will keep you on your toes. I'm gregarious and goofy with an affinity for alliteration. What I lack in interest for essay questions I make up 10 fold in entertainment value. I can spit out a story in seconds that will send milk shooting from your nose or rival any barrel of monkeys.
My Date: You would posses the 3 C’s, charisma, charm, and confidence. Any dude with the phrases “Laid Back” or “Easy Going” may not be the guy for me. I tend to head for the guys who are actively engaged, energetically enthusiastic, dynamically intrigued, connected, inspired, and curious.

I will keep you updated on my progress and if we all think happy thoughts within 90 days I will have at least one date that will produce more than just a humorous blog posting.