The Beard

Several interesting things happened last night. They may have been a bit of tequila/sangria/beer induced, and yes, my head is still spinning this morning, so I may have to share these stories throughout a couple of posts.

Back on my birthday, I met a bearded bartender that I thought was kinda cute, we exchanged numbers and a few texts, and then... yah, you guessed it. MDFM Phenom. Whatev.

I apparently had no shame last night after downing a few drinks, and Heidi, Muffy, and I headed back to the bar that The Beard worked at. He recognized me, I jokingly asked him what happened with hanging out, and we ended up texting back and forth while I was sitting at the bar. I asked when he got off, he said 4, it was only 1, so we left.

As I arrived home, I received a text from The Beard asking for some dirty sexting.

I was drunk. I could play this game.

It went on for over an hour, I told him to come over after work, and I finally passed out around 230.

I woke up this morning at 9 AM to 2 text messages and three missed booty calls. Oops.


The best part: I turned my computer on this morning to find that I had googled "Tips on How To Talk Dirty".

Wow, I'm juvenile.

Karma & The Principal

After diagnosing my MDFM situation to be a direct result of my bad karma, I have made a conscious effort over the last few months to right my wrongs and leave a good, I dunno...vibe or something, out in the dating world.

I had pretty much set everything in a positive direction until a quick little slip of the Blackberry occurred this weekend.

Let's rewind to Friday, where I had a planned date with The Principal (as in, of a school). We had met on Match.com, and because he lives in Brooklyn (aka Geographically Undesirable), we decided to meet at some beer bar in Union Square. Because Muffy and Heidi were heading out for what sounded like way more fun than my Principal-date, I met them prior to heading downtown, and admittedly got a little drunk.

Three martinis and a $17 cab ride later: I met him, he was okay cute, we had a semi-boring conversation, I diagnosed that as good of a job as I was doing being able to pretend that he was entertaining me, he was doing a poor job of pretending that I was amusing him, and we mutually cut the date short about an hour and a half in. Cool, no big deal. Then right at the end of the conversation at the bar, I do a little head-tilt at something he says, and I try to re-evaluate if he actually is indeed interested in me. Either way, we leave, we walk toward the main street where I can catch a cab and he can catch his train to Brooklyn, we stop for a moment for me to mention I need to head to the left, and he looks, and says: "Okay, nice meeting you. Good night." And turns and walks away.

I was a bit taken aback at his super abrupt farewell, although admittedly not disappointed to escape the lame date and head back to the girls, but at least I then felt positive in his lack of any interest in me.

Until Saturday.

The girls and I were a few drinks in, making fun of his abrupt exit and decided to make light of the situation. I sent The Principal a quick email from my Blackberry:

"I had such a wonderful time meeting you last night. I'd love to see you soon.

Diana"

I said "wonderful"? "Love to see you soon"? I was sure that this would make his eyes bug a little that this was my response to our Friday night meeting.

Fifteen minutes later the good ole Blackberry beeps with a response:

"I had a great time too and would love to get together again. When are you free? How was your night tonight? Hope you had fun!"

Whaaaaaaaaaat? You have got. to be. kidding me. And more than anything, because I decided to mess with his head and in all honesty make fun of him, does this mean I have to work on karma reparation all over again??? Unreal.


....But now that I reflect on this situation and the juxtaposing evening with Delaware, I'm thinking that it may be quite possible that the MDFM Phenom really is taking a turn-around...

Introducing Delaware

So in looking back, I believe that the "Man Dropping off the Face of Manhattan" Phenomenon (we'll call this the MDFM Phenom) began sometime between Halloween and Thanksgiving of last year.

That means I'm going on about four months of this totally unsuccessful streak of either:
a) meeting someone that I am interested in that feigns interest for a while, at the very least, before halting the phone calls and date requests, or
b) meeting someone that I'm totally uninterested in that apparently is also totally uninterested in me, because he doesn't even attempt to call for the second date and give me the option of rejecting him first.

Let me tell ya, Fall '09 and Winter '10 have definitely given me an ego thrashing.

Rewinding back to one of the first cases of MDFM, a girlfriend and I bravely ventured to Brooklyn for a party where we really knew only the host. We ended up quickly making friends and gravitating to the cute boys of our choice, and I managed to having a super flirty game of Beer Pong (how romantic) with a somewhat-shy but pretty adorable guy from Delaware.

The night wrapped up with Delaware and I being the only two left in the back yard with him serenading me and playing my requests on the guitar. (Sidenote: I normally find the whole guitar-playing, boy-serenading shenanigans super unappealing and insanely corny, but this time, I found it surprisingly sweet...) 3 AM rolled around and Delaware's friends started hollering for him to leave, so he took my number, and texted me right away to tell me he had a great time meeting me. I don't remember exactly what happened after that. I do know that there was texting back and forth for a couple of days and that he had said he'd call by the end of the week for us to plan a date.

He apparently got wind of the MDFM Phenom and never called.

Until..... two days ago? (Note: we met in the Fall, and it is now almost Spring.)

I received:
"Hey Diana, it's Delaware. We met at [Redacted]'s party a few months back. We had a musical night and I still remember how much I enjoyed meeting you. I'd like to get together if you're up for it."

It was such a nice message, and I was definitely curious to eventually hear what caused his four month hiatus, and his subsequent reappearance. I waited a good 48 hours before responding, but ending up texting back and forth with him again all night last night. I made no mention of hanging out and am going to wait to see if he can actually follow through on solidifying the plans this time...

If the MDFM Phenom has taught me anything thus far, it is to not hold my breath, but I am definitely intrigued... and eager to see if the Phenom is finally ready to throw me a fucking bone.

Maybe I Shouldn't Have Said That...

Sooo... I'm thinking that telling the woman that set me up with Kevin(*) back in November that I think that things between us didn't work out because, long story short, I think that he couldn't get it up, might have been slightly inappropriate.

Now that I've typed it out, I think it might have been thoroughly inappropriate.

Reason #439 why ending things with a girl in a cowardly way, instead of communicating what the issue might be, might not be the wisest of ideas.

(*)Name has been changed to protect the erectionally disabled.

It's a small, small world.

If it's true what they say about this being such a small world, then I am certainly correct in telling you that this city of 9 million people... is even smaller.

Case in point:

After a string of dating guys that decided to simply drop off the face of Manhattan (what am I doing wrong?), I decided to just suck it up and really start initiating that ever-so-brave first email via my Match.com account.

Enter: Midwestern Boy(*). We've had some pretty good emails back and forth to each other for the last week, and tonight's email is the one that I expect to hold my invitation for dinner or a drink this upcoming week. I decided to send my latest reply to him today right before I headed out to my exercise class in Union Square, and even took the time to mention to him at the end of said-email where I was headed for the evening.

Fast forward a couple of hours: I leave my class feeling fab, super energized and like I'd had a great workout. Sweaty? Yes. Hair in a pony and bangs pinned back? Check. Dance leggings, loose t-shirt and a sports bra? You got it. I've got the iPod in, some tunes blasting and I make my way underground to catch the train home. While standing on the platform, I do the ritualistic scan of the crowd to see if there are any cute guys lingering, and lucky for me, there is one. I don't have my contacts in, but I recognize that he's nicely dressed, probably in Finance like the rest of the male population in New York, and about six feet tall (my height minimum). Even though I'm schleppy looking from my workout, I decide to mosey his direction, and as I step through the same train car as him... Shit.

Oh yah, you guessed it. Platform Cutie was one in the same as Midwestern Boy. The subway car was fairly empty, so there was no ducking behind anyone or pretending that I didn't see him. I held my breath for the 20 blocks before his stop (the stop that he had mentioned in a previous email that he lived at, by the way), trying to figure out what the hell the odds of something like this really happening are (like 1 in 50 bazillion, I think), and hoping that he wouldn't glance at me for long enough to put two and two together and realize that the sweaty, messy haired and make-up-less girl across from him might actually be his date Friday night. He stepped off of his exit and didn't look back. He did check my online profile immediately after he got home though...

So, if that chance encounter hindered my chances for a weekend date, well, there might go another one... right off the face of Manhattan.

(*) Names have been withheld to protect the unsuspecting.