by Grace Anders
|Remember your first real date?--credit|
Last night marked a special occasion in my life, an experience shared by every single New York woman at some point --- it was my first date in the Big Apple. More stressful, however, was that it was my first date----ever.
I should add that I'm a fairly normal, 27-year-old, well-educated human being. No webbed feet, no crazy religious obsessions, and if I make the effort to curl my hair or spend time on makeup, I can look fairly presentable. I have a theory on why I haven't gone on any legitimate, boy-meets-girl-and-boy-asks-girl-out-for-an-evening-and-in-theory-boy-pays-unless-he's-one-of-those-super-progressive-or-unemployed-type of dates. Most of it centers on the laziness of my twenty-something generation, but I'll save that for another post.
Anyway, I went on a date with Teddy, a very attractive creative type who works in music publishing, and writes scores for foreign films (how tragically New York City of him), no? While I'm not sure I'll be sporting a rock on my left hand any time soon, it was a good experience – although I'm not sure he and I have a future, it provided a bit of self-reflection for me.
My date was attractive, funny, intelligent, and indulged my knack for making jokes at the perfect moment. He enjoys traveling, speaks other languages, and not only bought his mother a puppy, but attended said puppy's princess-themed birthday party. So why was I not feeling it?
I spent the majority of the evening, and most of this morning trying to figure that out. Is it because he's nothing like the older, ego-driven men who define my past relationships? (I have stories that rival bad Rom-Coms.) Or because I'm too picky? Maybe it's because I didn't date in high school, and didn’t gain the early socialization skills and self-confidence required to assess the potential for successful relationships. What is wrong with me that I'm not into him?
Now is the part where if this was a Sex and the City episode, I'd have some revelation about how it's not me, and that all I need are good friends, and why don't we all go on a 5-hour $100 lunch in SoHo instead of actually having jobs?
|Martinis and lunch are a perfect combination|
But it's real life, and the issue is me – I am too picky, and my previous relationships probably have impacted how I interact with men now. It's probably okay if the guy I like doesn't enjoy the same stupid SyFy Channel movies I do (he doesn't), won't go skydiving with me (he won't), and didn't vote for the same person I did. (I was speechless after this revelation.) Those are some of the many quirks that shouldn't outshine someone being a friendly and an overall decent person.
So maybe the fact that they do outshine someone being a friendly and decent person is just another one of my many quirks. It could be the D.C. girl in me that needs political harmony in a relationship, or maybe it’s the result of being a former geeky high schooler that I now need a boyfriend who will indulge my desire for travel and adventure. But either way, when it comes to dating --- I can’t change myself , and actually --- I won’t.
At the end of the day, it's my life. I'm allowed to be picky, even if it’s for what may be considered trivial or superficial reasons. It's one of my quirks that eventually, someone will indulge, and if I'm lucky, even love.
And that, everyone, is a true Sex and the City-style wrap-up. Now, who wants to meet me in SoHo for lunch? Drinks on you!
|Ok girls--cocktails at Balthazar sound much better than a date.--credit|