Another weekend in NYC - life in the fast lane. This is when I start to wonder if I'll ever grow up. And lie awake making a list of all of the bad behavior I will discontinue starting Monday. On Friday night I went to chris' house to rent a movie and order takeout. I met chris through a friend a few weeks ago on a blind date. His resume is perfect: cute, well educated, great job, nice guy, settled down, looking to meet a great girl. What's the catch? Well, it's twofold. He makes me yawn and he doesn't want to live in the ny area for long. I'm not sure which is a bigger deal for me. Boring or the fact that he hates ny. I'd understand if he were looking to move someplace intereting - hong kong, Sydney, Paris, but the decision seems to be driven by a longing for warmer weather and a bigger house. Did I mention this guy is only 29!? What do you need a big house in the suburbs for at 29? Unless he has a family of five that I don't know about. Anyway, of course he likes me. Everyone that I want to date is disinterested. Everyone who does want to date me is basically void of excitement and curiosity. But makes loads of dough at a fancy hedge fund. It poses quite a dilemma for me. Well, today we met for a beer and I decided that ive got to stop seeing him and clear my schedule for guys that could have a future with me.
It's hard for me to find those kind. I imagine that it's tough for any normal guy to take me seriously. Picture this: after 8 hours of mimosas and wine at one of the dangerous NYC establishments that provides unlimited cheap champagne at brunch, I head downtown with two single girlfriends. We shouldn't have even been allowed IN a bar at that point. I meet a guido looking guy in a very tight black t shirt who asks for my digits. I oblige. Heck, everyone eserves a chance, right? We move on to bar number two where I spot a guy with a beard. This seems too good to be true. I love beards and it adds instant sex appeal for me. None of the fancy groomed stuff - I'm talking full lumberjack beard. Love them. I not so coyly meet, talk to, and kiss (yes, at the bar) the beard guy. At this point my memory fades to grey and I wake up (yes alone) at noon with a raging headache. However, I've got a txt from the beard guy and we make plan to have dinner. Tonight. With a raging hangover and lack of memories, I have dinner with him. Turns out he's a writer: he's also funny, tall, interesting, smart, and sexy. He took me to the diner!!! Not your typical hedge fund Nyer, oh, AND he put up with my shenanigans last night. He's either awesome or an alcoholic. He walked me home and no real kiss. Just the cheek. Get this, i Dont need to make up an alias. I don't know his name!! I can't remember from last night and he didn't say it in his texts. It was too late at dinner to admit the problem, so I just avoided needing to use his name. I'm not sure if he noticed. I feel awful and I actually like him! How can I find out his name? Will he call? Was he interested? Could I date and get along with the smart, alternative, struggling writer that lives in queens? Or was thinking about this a waste of my time? Or maybe - just maybe - this is exactly the type I should be dating and it never works out because I'm always with the yuppy finance type... I'll keep you posted.
Lauren
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