Confessions.of.a.NYC.Lezie

Believe it or not, I actually had two dates this past weekend. I’m not going to write anything about the first, which took place on Saturday night, since it went really well and I’m hoping to see the woman in question again this coming weekend.

But I'll happily tell you about the second one, which took place on Sunday night, while most of the rest of the country was being suckered by a huge corporation into believing that overweight men with IQs of 20 running around with a Humvee’s worth of protective gear on is entertainning.

For the past few weeks, my friend Jew had been suggesting that I call up her friend Jenna to take her out. I wasn’t crazy about this idea for two reasons: 1) Jew and I are just friends, although we did sleep together once a long time ago and so it seemed a bit strange to go out with one of her friends. 2) Blind dates just suck.

Whatever. I had Jenna’s phone number and so, while being bored at work last week, I gave her a call. We never spoke, but on Monday and Tuesday of last week we played phone tag and exchanged emails enough to make a date to meet at Taralucci e Vino near Union Square at 7:30pm on Sunday.

But when Sunday rolled around, I was still basking in the fun from my Saturday night outing and really wasn’t in the mood to go out with somebody else. But Jew had mentioned to me a few days earlier than Jenna was really looking forward to meeting me on Sunday night. And so I didn’t want to be a jerk and cancel at the last minute.

Jenna was a tall/slim brunette with long dark hair. Very stylishly dressed. She looked great. Except that she was wearing fur. With a matching fur pocketbook. It all looked fashionable and expensive, but I’m totally turned off by fur. I mean, I have a cat. And I love animals. So right now, she was batting about even: a plus for being gorgeous, and a minus for wearing a fur coat.

And then she made the bartender let her try three different wines, taking almost ten minutes before settling on one. She was polite about it and the bartender didn’t mind, but the high maintenance sign in my head was going off. This was reminding me of my old friend Rachel. In fact, I almost texted Rachel to tell her that might’ve met somebody more high maintenance that she is.

Anyway, Jenna and I settled in to chat over our wine. She had an interesting life story. Her family had moved from St. Petersburg when she was in high school, and they’d moved to Indiana. Then she’d gone to Stanford. Now she made a ton of money at a super huge investment bank. I was intrigued.And then she told me about a movie she’d seen last week. In excruciating detail. The whole plot. My mind began to wander. I told myself to pay attention. She might ask me a question, and I'd be thinking about Rachel in her lingerie. Or something Bill Maher said on his show this week.

But the story of the plot of this movie went on for a super long time.But after two glasses of wine, I started to have fun. And we decamped to a restaurant and had a really engaging, engrossing conversation.

I don’t feel like going into much details but Jenna is extremely beautiful and sexy, and really very interesting and smart. I would certainly see her again, but I think that she might be a little bit "high maintenance" for me. We were out for about 4 or 5 hours. So... I'd like to go out with her again, but in the end I'm not sure if it's a good match. Although, to be completely honest, I'm quite attracted to her. Even in just a physical sense.

Interestingly, I had a date on Saturday night that also went well. I'm supposed to see that girl this coming Saturday, and very much looking forward to it.

On Friday night, I just wanted to go home and relax. But stupidly, I’d let my friend Jew talk me into going on a blind date with a friend of hers.

We’d been at Happy Hour on Tuesday night, and she’d been asking me about my love life. And I explained to her that I was happy being single and, while I wanted to be in a relationship again, it had to be right. With somebody I got to know well and took my time with. And I was in no hurry about it.

Jew stated that she had the perfect person for me, and would I be interested in having a drink with her friend sometime soon? I said thanks, but that I’d pass. I hate blind dates. In fact, if you’re wondering why I’m referring to what eventually happened this past Friday as the second worst date ever, it’s because the most awful one that I've ever had was also a blind date. It took place about 3 years ago, and was just miserable. I’ll post it sometime, because, if nothing else, it really is a hilarious story. But now is not the time.

But Jew would not be deterred. And since she’s a good friend and I was under the influence of a few vodka and tonics with lime, I caved. I said I’d be working late on Friday, but that I could meet for a quick drink. I rattled off the name of a low key wine bar near work, and said she should have her friend email me. Which is what happened on Wednesday. I exchanged a few brief emails with Jew’s friend and said we could grab one quick glass of wine on Friday night. The reply came back agreeing that would be fine, since she’d be at a Fashion Week party until about 10:00 p.m., anyway.

Now, maybe you’ve been on dates before where you didn’t want to go in the first place. But you went because a close friend talked you into it while you were drunk. Honestly, Friday I just wanted to lounge around and watch a movie. But I found myself in a very crowded midtown wine bar, nursing a lovely Sicilian red as I waited for Jew’s friend to show up. And I thoroughly ignored the nasty looks from people eying the empty stool beside me at the bar that I was saving for my date as I tried to stay awake.Jew’s friend eventually showed up. And not only was she already hammered, but she was dressed in an outfit that was completely inappropriate for anything other than a leather fetish party. And it was seriously revealing. And totally out of place for this establishment.

But I told myself that, OK, she’s just come from a Fashion Week party so I should give her the benefit of the doubt.And then we began to chat. Or, rather, she began to chat for about an hour and a half and I would occasionally try to answer a question when she’d pretend to be interested in what I thought about something or about my background. For example, she went on for about twenty minutes about what a great cook she was and seemed to list every single recipe she’s capable of making.

I was thinking about tennis. And tennis - only. And what a great guitarist Johnny Marr had been with the Smiths. And how I hadn't been to see a movie in an actual cinema in a while. And so on.But jew’s friend finally asked me what kinds of foods I liked, and I began to answer and then she interrupted me and went on and on about fifty other things for an eternity. And she reiterated that she liked to cook in a very suggestive way. I guess the implication was that if I were to date her, she’d cook for me a lot. But spending time in a kitchen with this woman seemed like a fate more horrible than I’d wish on anybody other than Tango. And even then I wasn’t sure.

So, I’ll spare you the details. She just talked forever and ever. And I watched her with what was probably a look of utter boredom. And I don’t think I have to tell you that there’s nothing I enjoy more than a good conversation. I like getting to know people. But this was so insanely one sided.

Finally, at 11:30 p.m., I couldn’t take it anymore. I lied and said I had to be up early to... well, I just had to be up early. Being a gentle-lady, I paid for the drinks anyway. With cash, so we wouldn’t have to wait for the overworked bartender to run my card. And then outside I stupidly lit a cigarette, because Jew’s friend bummed one from me. So I was trapped for another ten minutes. And then she asked me if I wanted to get one more drink. Or if she could come home with me to meet my new kitten.

I was tempted to tell her that the Cat had rabies and that he might attack her if she came over, but I didn’t want to besmirch his reputation like that. I just said that it wasn’t a good night, and put her in a cab without promising to call her again. Because I never, ever will.

Even if there’s a major snowstorm and she has the only supply of canned goods in NYC.

It just wouldn’t be worth it to survive a natural disaster under those circumstances.