MTB

I’m a little behind on my updates.

I’m sort of assuming you have been reading and are keeping up.  If you don’t know who Holden Caulfield is (yes, aside from the literary character from one of my favorite books), you will just have to read the earlier post titled, “Holden Caulfield.”

Two Fridays ago, I got a text from Holden Caulfield.  I was pretty surprised.  I thought I’d never hear from him again.

HC:  Hi, how are you?  Hope you are doing well.  And not falling down any steps. [emoticon with tongue sticking out]

Me:  I haven’t fallen down any steps!  But if I did you’d be there right??  How have you been ___?

HC:  If you fall I will catch I will be waiting [music emoticons] Time after time. . .

And we continue our banter via text as Holden Caulfield is updating me about his life I know very little about via text, he slips in:

HC:  And excited to meet up with you soon.

And a bit more of back and forth.  I’m waiting for him to take initiative, be a bit more assertive.  And alas, he says:

HC:  Cool lets be in touch let me know next time you are out on the town with your girls (See, I had invited him to come meet me and girlfriends out once)

Me:  Ok sure.  But FYI you are allowed to hang out with me one on one.

HC:  That all sounds excellent.  We will def hang in NYC soon.  (As opposed to a different city than where we both reside??)

Then Holden Caulfield proceeds to tell me how he’s moving and has a month left on his lease and if I know of anyone who would want a one month sublet.  Dude, I don’t even know if I remember what you look like.

Let’s see what he comes up with next.  Stay tuned.

Look!  Adam Scott has a new cover photo on his Facebook fan page.

I met Marathon Man (MM) out the other night for drinks, three days after he ran the NYC marathon.

MM is about 45 years old, balding and just about all grey, originally from NJ, maybe around 5’11” (maybe), and works in IT  at a bank on Wall Street.  I wore flat boots out to meet him because I knew he wasn’t very tall.

Marathon Man and I had some really normal conversation.  What a breath of fresh air.  Though he, on occasion, interrupted me mid-response to his questions to tell me his stories, I thought the night was pretty normal.  As I mentioned before, men typically like to talk about themselves or at least tell you all the things they know.

I met him at 7:00, at a wine bar in the West Village.  Somehow he knew I love that area.  The next thing we knew, it was 9pm.

We talked a lot about exercise and nutrition, two big things I am trying to focus more on lately. I told him I was thinking about going gluten-free, biking and running more, and various other things.  He told me he will be doing his first Iron Man next year.

Ok, that’s pretty cool.  He is way more fit than the man I dated for over two months last summer who broke up with me via email (I am referring to My Mr. Big (MMB), who I will tell you about another time).

Marathon Man suggested we grab another drink at another bar.  We walked a couple blocks down and around the corner.  I picked out a sour ale to drink and he followed suit.

MM majored in physics in college.

Me:  Physics was actually one of my favorite subjects in college.

MM:  No way, really?  Once I tell women that I majored in Physics, the conversation usually comes to a halt.

Me:  No way.  I love it.  I used to love hearing about how some people do their theses on trying to find monopoles.

MM:  Let me show you the nerdiest app I have.  [Searches through his phone. . . ]  See, you can look at the information on every kind of subatomic particle there is.

I take his phone and look through cartoon figures of muons, leptons, neutrinos, etc. and tap on them to read about them.

Me:  This is so cool!!

NERDVILLE.

It was time to head home.  Marathon man walked me to the corner and hailed me a cab.

Next day around noon. . .

MM: [via text]  I had a great time last night.  🙂

Adam Scott has a new cover photo on Facebook:

I met AJ on a night when Snap was looking for trouble.  And according to Snap, “trouble” equals a “body.”  And a body only.  That evening Snap didn’t need a personality, brains, or even someone to talk to.  Just the body.

But before I continue, I should say that it was really Snap who was looking for this “trouble.”  I played the innocent accomplice.  Perhaps with a bit of instigator mixed in.

Before I met these two out, My Pride & Joy (MPJ) invited me to a college party up at Columbia University.  I politely declined but MPJ told me that a bunch of 22 year olds would be ready and willing to meet a bunch of cougars out on the town.  That makes me feel uncomfortable.

I brought up the idea of going to the Columbia party to both Junior and Snap, just for shits and grins, but they didn’t want any part of it.  The thought of mingling with 22 year olds made them queasy.

We had a drink at a bar in TriBeCa while Junior and Snap caught me up on the couple they were watching from across the room, which they thought was a Match.com meeting.  Apparently the guy caught on that he was being watched and was displaying all the body language that an interested girl did not want to see.

AJ came up to the bar and ordered a drink right in front of me and we engaged in conversation.  AJ wasn’t shy.  He quite casually had a normal conversation with me.  He is from Australia.  Works at a major bank in the City.  Probably in his mid-30s.  So, AJ proceeded to get his drink, offered to buy me one, paid for his drinks, then politely excused himself to get back to his friends.

Junior, Snap, and I were really hungry so we decided to bounce.  But before I left, AJ caught up to me and asked me for my number.  Back in my early 20’s, after a few different bad experiences, I had a hard and fast rule of not giving out my number to men I meet out.  I would rather take theirs.  That rule is null and void now.

I gave AJ my number.

We got to a cute corner Italian restaurant, still in TriBeCa, and we sat at a high top table.  Immediately, I spotted a table of three seemingly nice and handsome men and told Junior and Snap about it.  Three of them.  Three of us.  Snap told me to make it happen.

So, after we got our wine and some food, I walked over to the table of three men and asked them if I could sit down.  They were a little surprised that I asked them and the looks on their faces said, “Is this girl hitting on us?”

Well, I wasn’t exactly hitting on them but said, “My girlfriends over there want to meet you.”

So I talked to them a bit.  I asked them if they worked in finance and they said no and tried to tell me that one of them was a CIA agent and that they did other kinds of work but, alas, I was right.  They were all investment bankers.  Two of them played football at UPenn, one of who was from St. Paul.  This one got up and started talking to Junior and Snap.  I thought he had a little bit of game.  I stayed at the table and talked to the other two.

It was clear that this was going to be a great opportunity for Snap.  The three guys happened to live together and just around the corner so they awkwardly invited us to come over.

I can’t believe we went over to their loft.  And what a filthy loft it was.  Total bachelor pad.

And all this time, we were wondering how old they are.

The two guys that Junior and I claimed did not even pay attention to us.  They were off in their rooms doing things.

Junior and I were itching to get the hayll outta there, so we bailed and left Snap so she could hang out more.

I got home and saw this text message from AJ:  “Hey here’s my number it was nice to meet you tonight.  You’re tall and gorgeous.”

Later I heard from Junior that after we left that God awful loft, Snap asked her guy how old he is.  He said 22.  She promptly left.

Oh, the irony.

Here’s Adam Scott lookin’ all dapper.

I decided I needed to be more open about meeting people in other geographic locations, outside of NYC.  Why?  Well, it just opens up opportunity, right?  I mean, people do long distance all the time and if it’s something worth fighting for, it will work.  At least, that’s what I believe.

I met a guy in the Philly area since I go to the area almost every 3 weeks now.

We texted for a bit before I met him and he told me he’d call me and didn’t.  Then said he would call me the next day and didn’t.  So when I gave in and called him, he told me that he had time for me to ask him one question about him.

At this point, I’m about to tell him that it’s really not working for me.  But, the optimist in me is telling me to explore the opportunity.  You know, maybe something was going on in his life at the moment?  That’s completely possible and reasonable, right?  Right???

The day before I left for the Philly area for the weekend, he says, “Hey, ____.  U still coming down this weekend to Philly? . . . Sunday is usually a better day if u have 20min for a coffee:)  (This is verbatim, unedited)

Now, if you know me at all, I think you know that I’m usually a very direct person.  In the next series of texts, we are trying to coordinate a time and location to meet up and I am completely frustrated.  TMC (Twenty Minute Coffee) can’t set a hard time to meet.  TMC can’t even tell me a place in downtown Philly to meet up.  He just can’t pick up the phone and have a two minute conversation. . .

[via text – verbatim]
TMC: Not in Philly today but will be back tomorrow.

Me:  Ok, maybe we can shoot to meet up early evening?

TMC: Early evening tomorrow?  If so, yes

Me:  Ok, let’s shoot for that. [I am waiting for him to take the lead and set a time.]

TMC: Hope u r having fun here in Pa

[next day]

TMC:  Hello r u able to say hello later or do I need to come to ny?:)

Me:  Yes!  Come to NY.  I’m jk.  I think I can but not sure what time.  What’s good for you?  I was thinking around 7 or so?  But really not sure.

TMC:  7 is good.

Me:  [Later in the day] Hey do you have an idea where we can meet up?

TMC:  Can u meet up in Philly?

Me:  I can but need to drop off friends at 30th Street station around 8pm which means I wouldn’t be able to meet up til after that.  Would that work for you?

TMC:  Should be ok.

Can u text me when u drop ur friends off at 30th.

Have to go into the office for a few things

Me:   Sure but can we decide where to meet up before I get there?  I’m not familiar with the area and it’s not the best area to park and sit.

[no answer – two and a half hours pass]

Me:  Hey there I’m about to drop of friends.

TMC:  Hey only have time for a quick drink or if u just want to drive down to where I work just to say hello.

It’s close to 30th street station

Me:  I’m don’t feel very comfortable going to your office – I’d really prefer to just grab a drink.

TMC:  Ok (did not mean come into the actual office)

There is a place at ___ and ____.  Bottom n next to the ____ hotel.  its an irish bar.

Me:  Is that by the river?  Do you remember the name?

TMC: No its toward center city

go down market n make a left on 18th street

Me:  Sorry can you give me more detail please?  I’m not familiar enough with the City.  🙁

Market street away from Drexel?

TMC:  Yes head east

Me:  Ok I think I know where it is from looking at the map.

TMC:  Ok will head over

N by the way very casual attire

Was working in my office

Me:  Oh darn!  I’m wearing my prom dress.  See you soon.

Hey can you please tell me the name when you get there?

. . .

TMC is almost finished with his Bailey’s on ice when I walk into the bar.  We talk a bit.  Normal conversation.  Seemingly nice guy.

TMC starts getting the check while I still have half a pint of beer, so I literally start chugging it.  That hard-earned beer is not going to waste.  TMC is telling me to take my time as I joke that I need to drink it quickly.  He is sitting at the edge of his seat, ready to go.

We walk outside and he offers to walk me to my car.  In NYC, I’d just tell him to forget it, especially after all that weird texting and rushed drink, but in a “foreign” city, I accept his offer.  I look over and take a good look — Twenty Minute Coffee is wearing baggy grey sweat pants, beat up Timberland boots, and a red fleece jacket that is zipped up to his neck.

Me:  Wow you really are dressed casually.

. . .

We get to the car.  I can’t wait to get home and have another drink.

TMC:  Can I get a hug?

Reluctantly, I oblige.  I go home and play board games with my sister, her husband, and another couple.

I think this is a young photo of Adam Scott:

Yeah, it’s been a bit of a dry spell with dates.  Not completely uneventful but also not a whole lot to write home about – good or bad.

Yesterday I went to my friend’s wedding in Washington, DC.  I sat a table with a bunch of fabulous single women and one fabulous married couple.  Being the fabulous single women we are, we shared dating stories — mostly horrific, some very funny, and some sort of sad.

What is up with that?   I need a good date.  I really good one.

Thus, came my renewed motivation to get back in the game and to spend a little time on updating you with my dating activity.

Here’s Adam Scott after making the winning putt during the final round of the PGA Grand Slam of Golf.

A week ago, today, I met “Holden Caulfield”.

After work, I went to spend about two hours doing some volunteer work in Greenwich Village.  As I stepped out of the building, there were some steep steps where I needed to deeply bend over from the 2nd or 3rd step to unlock the gate in front of me.

New Yorkers, I think you might know what I am talking about.  Squished spaces, steep steps, little clearance from a doorway to a curb.

I walked out the gate, looked up, and saw a young man walking towards me down the sidewalk with a nice, clear smile on his face, smiling at me.

We made eye-contact, so I smiled back.

He says, “Hi.”

Me:  Hi.  [Smile]

Holden:  I thought you were going to fall off those stairs, so I was preparing myself to catch you.

Me:  Oh, back there?  Oh, you thought I was going to fall?  (And) Oh, you were going to catch me if I fell?

. . .

We are walking and talking. . .

Me:  [I look at Holden]  Wow, were you really going to try to catch me if I fell?

Holden:  Yeah.  [Smile]

Me:  [Completely flattered yet dumbfounded at the chivalry]  Wow, that’s so nice.  You just made my night.  [Smile]

Lots of smiling going on.

Holden:  How’s your night going?

Me:  Good, I was just doing some volunteering, how about you?

Holden:  Good, I just had dinner after work with a friend.  So do you live around here?

Me:  No, I live in ______.

Some more smalltalk, chit-chatting as we are walking.

Holden:  Oh, well maybe if you’re in the area again, we can get together or something.  Here, let me get your number. [Digs in his pocket for his phone]

Me:  [Completely surprised that this young man was asking for my number]  Ok, sure.

Holden:  I’ll call you, that way you can have mine.

Me:  [In awe of his confidence and comfort in talking and “picking me up”] Ok, I’ll cross the street with you then go that way.

We cross the street.

Holden:  It was nice to meet you.

Me:  Thanks for almost catching me!  [As I walk in the other direction]

Next day, Holden texts me and says, “It was nice to meet you.”

We exchange some texts about getting together.  He says he programmed me into his phone as “___ Fallstep.”

I told him he was my Catcher in the Rye. . .

We tried to make plans to meet up — he asked me if I were free for a drink that night but I wasn’t — and tried to coordinate a day in the near future, but it didn’t work out — he was potentially away for the weekend.

The weekend has passed and he hasn’t contacted me again.  And I won’t contact him (one of my dating rules not to contact the guy, I let him contact me).

Well, I was flattered that such young guy would hit on me and it was fun while it lasted.  Homeboy looks way too young for me.

Holden Caulfield.

Here’s Adam Scott signing autographs.

> 24 hours later ILSFTY responds to my text. . .

“So I guess that means no more selfies huh. . . “

Yesterday, I texted ILFSTY to let him know it just wasn’t going to work out with us.

Me: [via SMS texts] Hey ILSFTY.  Thank you so much for the yummy Korean dinner last night.

I’m sorry for going home so abruptly last night but I’m not feeling a romantic connection with you, unfortunately.

So I think it would be best to go separate ways.

And I’ll spare you the whole, “I think you’re a great guy” bit.  I hate it when people feel the need to say those things. (when breaking up)

Thank you again for the nice drinks and dinner dates and wishing you all the best.

ILSFTY:  No response.

Delete name and number from phone.

WJLC = “Westchester Jew, Lived in Cincinnati”

First date with WJLC, who lives in Westchester County and recently moved back from living in Cincinnati for three years.

37 years old, 5’11”.

WJLC does not drink alcohol so we met up for coffee on W 10th street, near where he was going to meet friends for dinner, later.  He suggested we go grab a coffee and take a walk in the park.

WJLC is of Eastern European descent.  He is fair and was probably blond-ish when he was young, which is a look I like.

We grab a coffee and I ask, “So, what park did you have in mind?”

WJLC:  Isn’t Washington Square park around here?

Me:  It’s a little that way.

WJLC:  Or we could go to the Highline?

Me:  [Happy about the suggestion] Oh, I haven’t been to the Highline.  [It was built during the time I moved away and I haven’t ever been]

WJLC:  Ok, then let’s go there.

We walk over that way, not realizing we were a little too far south, so we walk up a bit and find the entrance.  We walked along the city streets.  Doing the usual smalltalk.  Mixed in with some bits of silence.  Walk walk walk.

WJLC:  You’re so tall! [He is not 5’11”]

Me:  Yeah, I’m pretty tall, for being Korean.

WJLC:  Oh, you’re Korean?  Now I can’t guess what you are!

Me:  Haha, oh, sorry!  I know you white people love to guess what we Asians “are”.

WJLC:  Hahaha.  [He laughed and did not take offense]

We got to the southern-most entrance and talked about a bunch of things along the way.  The usual date question made an appearance, of course.  “If you could do any job without salary being an issue what would you do?”

For me, that’s easy.  I’d teach.

WJLC:  Well why’d you leave teaching then?  And don’t say it’s because you didn’t get paid enough.

Me:  Mostly, I left so I could work in a capacity to have a larger impact, more reach.

WJLC:  Good.  That’s the right reason. [Thanks for your approval?] Because you shouldn’t let money be the motivation.  I mean, if you can make ends meet and you’re passionate about what you do, you should do it.

Me:  But money is an issue for teachers.  Teachers should be paid more.  And I can’t just stay in a job where I don’t feel like I get paid enough for all the hard work I’m doing.

WJLC:  Yes, that’s true. . .You know it’s funny, last year I made the most money I’ve ever made and I was completely unhappy.

. . .

Then, WJLC slips into a mode that many men do.  He starts telling me about this and that, as if he’s teaching me stuff.  Like, how to look at a building’s architecture, what this and that means, what that building is, what that restaurant is, blah, blah, blah.

We walked up the entire Highline, then walked all the way back down.  That’s about a mile and a half — and I’m thinking it’s good because I didn’t go to the gym today, but it’s also very humid out and I can tell the curls I curled in my hair before the date are now very limp and my hair’s gotten frizzy.  Not to mention feeling sweaty and hot on an unusually warm October day.

The conversation went in many different directions with intermittent bits of silence.  Stuff about the similarities of Asians and Jews.  Diet, working out, work, the City, but it’s hard to tell jokes, be sarcastic or silly because we are walking side by side the whole time and don’t really see each others’ faces.

WJCL talked a lot about diet.  His diet.  He’s vegetarian.  Then proceeds to tell me about how much protein we need to eat, what protein is for, how if we only ate the required amount of calories our body needs to function we’d be very healthy, blah, blah, blah, and I hesitate telling him that I know these things, that I was a biology major, and taught biology.

WJCL:  So how risk-loving or averse are you?

Me: Hmmm

WJLC:  Like, would you go skydiving?

Me:  Yeah, I want to. [It’s on my bucket list.]

WJLC:  Would you go up in a small airplane that I was piloting?

Me:  Yeah, I’d do that!  [I totally would.]

WJLC:  [Smiles] That’s great.

Then proceeds to tell me more about his flying stuff.

We got back to the Meat Packing District and I let WJLC hail me a taxi.  Cheek kiss, goodbye.  I went home and WJLC went to his dinner.

I’m going to see in what place Adam Scott is in the President’s Cup.

ILSFTY stands for “I lived in Sweden for ten years.”

Dinner date at Hanjan at 8:30pm.  Third date.  Two blocks away from ILSFTY’s apartment.

First date: drink date at Michael Jordan’s Bar in Grand Central Station.  Second date: dinner date at a tapas restaurant (forgot the name) off of Irving Place.

I arrived at Hanjan at 8:30pm and ILSFTY is, once again, sitting at the bar with his back to the door.  He did this at the tapas restaurant, too.

He happens to turn around right after I walk in.

ILSFTY is wearing a black v-neck t-shirt, dark, but not overly trendy/stylish jeans, and black dress shoes.  He wore a sweater and jeans the last two dates.  The last date he wore sneakers.

ILSFTY:  Oh hi!  Good to see you.  [Semi-kiss on the cheek, half hug]

Many, many seconds of silence pass of him just looking at me.

ILSFTY:  So, what do you think?

Me:  Oh, it’s nice.  [I look around – the decor is simple, modern, raw]

ILSFTY:  If there’s one thing that we must order is the the kimchi pork fried rice.  It’s so good.  It’s like bibimbap but with some kimchi and pork and not as many vegetables. . . blah blah blah.

Me: [As I put my hand on his shoulder and furrow my eyebrows] Did you forget I’m Korean?

ILSTFY:  I know, I know!  [A little flustered] But I just wanted to tell you about what it’s like.

We sit.  More talking, talking, talking from ILSFTY telling me about this and that, basically showing me how much he knows about this and that.  I can’t even remember what he talked about.

Somehow our conversation led into talking about bibimbap.  And ILSFTY started talking about how when you eat bibimbap in the stone bowl, you can let it sit and the rice on the bottom forms a crispy layer.  Then, you mix it together and it become a crispy mixture, blah, blah, blah, he’s going on and on.

I leaned in closer and furrowed my eyebrows again and said, “Did you forget again that I’m Korean?”

Sigh.  I’m downing my sake.

More conversation.  Movies.  ILSFTY loves romantic comedies. “Miss Congeniality” is in his top ten comedies.

Me:  I don’t really watch romantic comedies.

He talks about how much he loves Sandra Bullock and how cute she is.

ILSFTY:  Well what’s your favorite romance movie?

Me:  “Sense and Sensibility.”

More conversation about Sense and Sensibility and why he doesn’t like it and asking me why I like it, and Anna Karenina — blah blah blah.  Debate, debate, debate.  Oh, did I tell you he is a lawyer?

Drink more sake.

ILSFTY tells me more about Korean things.  I drink more sake.  I’m tempted to ask him again if he forgot that I’m Korean.

ILSFTY talks more and more about stuff.  All I can think about is how cozy and comfy my bed is going to be when I get home from this dinner.

We finish dinner and go outside.

Me:  [Looking out into the street as we stand on the sidewalk outside Hanjan]  Ok, I’m going to catch a taxi and go home!

ILSFTY:  Really?

Me:  Yeah.  I’m sorry, I’m so tired, I’ve had a long day.

ILSFTY:  REALLY??? [A look of complete disbelief]

Me:  Well, maybe I can stay out for one drink?

ILSFTY:  But I don’t want to keep you out if you’re tired.  But I thought we could spend some time hanging out tonight?  [We are standing at a restaurant he picked, two blocks away from his apartment]

Me:  Ok!  [In response to him not wanting to keep me out – as ILSFTY then hails a taxi for me]

He likes to text me selfies.  Yes, only three dates.

Thankfully, I got home in time to catch some of Elizabeth Smart’s interview on Dateline.

And in other news, Adam Scott is playing in the President’s Cup right now.