Gem #2 (or HOTHO)

Disclaimer: this entry is along non-PG level. Not even PG-13. If you have delicate sensibilities, you’ve been forewarned.

The second gem I met through my Craigslist experiment was a 30 year old English teacher living in Astoria; NYC born, NYC bred. His response was similar to Gem #1 in that it was funny and well written. He included pictures and the closest thing I can compare him to is Buddy Holly. He was a Hipster Of The Highest Order (HOTHO). This was going to be a departure for me.

I went out with HOTHO after my date with Fresh Meat when it didn’t seem like I was going to hear from him again. I wasn’t waiting around for Fresh Meat to get his act together, I was a rolling stone gathering no dating moss!

We made plans to meet the following week for some drinks, but in the meantime started gchatting each other. He was funny. And I think funny is hot. So by the undeniable high school math equation “If, then” is applied here we get: If he is funny and I think funny is hot, then he is hot. Making me laugh gives you brownie points so quickly, and it’s the easiest and funnest way to earn them! As a tiny red flag, he was already referring to me and us in the future tense. For example, he was already planning on taking me to Met’s games the following season. Hm. Um. Hold those horses Mr. Wayne.

I allowed him to choose the bar we would meet at and I trudged off to Astoria after work one fine Tuesday. We were texting as we were traveling and he told me he was wearing an orange hoodie. I was already skeptical. Hoodie to me says: I put absolutely no effort into this outfit whatsoever. However, the caveat here is that he was a HOTHO and therefore hoodies are part of the uniform. I still was able to sight him two blocks away, though.

I entered the bar where he was already ordering some of Brooklyn’s finest lager and we awkwardly said hello. He chose a corner booth where leg room was minimal and required knocking knees. I suspect(ed) this was on purpose. He frequently used the intimate space to emphasize his point by touching my thigh. Side note: not as cute in person. But, as online dating goes, you gotta just roll with it.

Backstory: while gchatting, we had discussed the merits of napping. Oh, the glories of napping!!! We were apparently both fans.

Segway back: After one drink he turns to me and asks, “So what do you want to do? Another drink? Dinner? …..nap?”

I’m sorry. Wait. Did you just ask me to “nap” after one drink??

It was raining outside and I used this as an excuse to respond with a, “um, it doesn’t look so hot out there, why don’t we get another drink?”

So we got another drink. At this point I’m thinking that he’s not a troll. I’m thinking that he’s not the yin to my yang, but I’m not having a terrible time. So after we finish our second drink, he asks again what I want to do. I respond, “’let’s take a nap!”. Please don’t misunderstand, dear reader, I’m not a total vamp. I was thinking some good old fashioned high school couch tonsil hockey could be nice.

Here’s where I learned a valuable dating lesson, which is why I’m sharing this story and still hoping you’re not judging me. Taken aback, he said stuttering, “oh! I’m sorry, I, I just, I just didn’t think you were into it….”

And there’s my dating feedback, my college moniker given to me by my dear friend Lindsay, the Ice Princess apparently lives on. Now, when I go on a date, I make sure I’m encouraging (if I’m into it) and not an ice cold bitch.

I back away from the invitation; his surprise wasn’t encouraging to me so I start to rescind my statement. But he now pursues it. He offers to drive me home. Perfect, 1) I don’t have to spend 45 minutes going two miles and 2) cars are perfect to make out in!

He drives me home and we end up in my apartment. I’m going to spare you the details of one of the most awkward experiences of my life. And yes, I realize how improbable that statement is, because all of my dates are landmines of discomfort.

He actually DID want to nap. We were NOT on the same page.

He whispered into my ear that he had already, um, pleasured himself to my photograph the previous weekend.

And the cherry on top: he asked me to toss his salad.

‘Nuff said.

I hope it’s needless to say, but we did not see each other after that.

Tossed Salad (too easy?):

Lettuce
Tomato
Cucumber
Hard Boiled Egg
Oh, eff it – do you really need me to spell this out?

Gem #1 (Fresh Meat)

I apologize for the extreme delay in posting these adventures. Life has, let's say, taken some extreme and unplanned turns in the last half of 2011. But, back to dating, and more on ch, ch, changes in later installments!

As per my last post, I wound up with two genuine dates from my Craiglist experiment.

Gem #1 was a newly minted NYCer (hereby known as Fresh Meat) who had relocated from Minnesota to Queens about four weeks earlier. His response was lengthy and sweet, not to mention uber excited to be in contact with me. I gave him my number; he text me immediately. Homeboy was an eager beaver. I did not mind this.

We decided to go out the following weekend and he sweetly said, "why don't you let me take you to The Met?". I liked the wording of that communication. It implied assertiveness, no confusion on who was paying for the date, and it was also manly. Mommy likey. (Wow, is that creepy?)

Since he lived in Queens as well, we decided to meet at a common subway stop, Queensboro Plaza. I carefully choose what I deemed to be a cute, yet not trying too hard first date outfit and went on my way. I stood nervously at the station, watching for someone I thought I might recognize exit the N train. The trains came and went. And then as the train pulled out of the station, someone tapped me on the shoulder in that elementary school, I'm standing on your left, but am going to tap your right shoulder so you look the other way, kinda way - and there was Gem #1.

He.was.giddy.

I almost didn't understand how someone who had never met me could be so excited to be on a first date with me. I mean, please, I get it, har har - no, but really. We dont know each other.... I AM pretty cool to hang with but he certainly hadn't been educated in proper NYC dating decorum. Didn't he know he was supposed to be aloof and withhold his true feelings?

We traveled to The Met and randomly walked around. His giddiness continued the entire time we were there, even reaching out to cup my shoulders from behind every 30 minutes or so. Normally, I'm a cynical person (read: bitch) but I actually liked this! I was liking this guy!

COULD I ACTUALLY BE ON A SUCCESSFUL DATE?!?! Stop the presses.

His enthusiasm was contagious! I was smiling! And flirting! And if I hadnt been such a dumb turd prude I would have gone with the moment and let him kiss me in front of the display of Roman war helmets.

After the museum closed, Fresh Meat took me to an early dinner at diner nearby. We exited and walked in the rain. I didn't mind (except for my goddamn curly hair that started to get all wonky Liz Lemon style).

Back to Queensboro Plaza we went, and even though I would have liked to kiss him goodbye, I really didn't want our first kiss to be on a subway platform in Long Island City. So I hugged him and we parted ways.

15 minutes later I receive a text from him saying what a great time he had, and how he wanted to see me again.

I had done it. I had been on a successful date! With someone *I* actually wanted to see again! Not someone who was going to slobber on my face in Grand Central, or tell me about Low Sodium Tacos being the highlight of their Friday night, but an actual potential dating partner! So many exclamation points!!!!

****************

And here's where the enthusiasm ends. There was no second date. He randomly texted me over the next two-ish weeks saying that he was super busy but wanted to see me again (including texting me once at 2a saying he was thinking about me.....I'm sorry, but 2a and youre thinking about me? Whatchu thinkin' 'bout boi? Mmmhmm!). So eventually I just stopped trying.

I had thought I'd found the perfect dating solution - find a male who has recently moved to NYC so he hasn't had time to become a dating disaster. Find a middle america, homegrown quality dude and date him. Date him hard.

Sigh, NYC got to him before I did. Fresh Meat had already started to spoil.

Better Then Sex Cake

1 Box of Devils Food Cake mix

Cool Whip

Caramel Sauce

Heath Bar's crushed

(make that shiz according to directions in a 13x9 pan)

After it cools, poke holes in the cake and fill them holes with caramel sauce. Then cover it with Cool Whip and drizzle more of that caramel on top. Sprinkle the top with your crushed up Heath Bar. Eat.

It's better then sex because I didn't get any (and having cake is better than nothing). AND, after you have a taste, youre gonna want more....just like my first awesome first date ever.

The Experiment

Having tried most avenues of online dating, I decided to conduct an experiment (out of boredom, out of a desire for a laugh, but certainly, no, not out out of desperation.....).

I won't keep you in suspense; I posted an ad on Craiglist.

It was a random Thursday night and I found myself with a few hours to kill before my house guest arrived for the long weekend. I was bored. I was spectacularly single. Why not see what happens?! What have I got to lose?! How many times have I heard that sentence when it comes to dating? Loads. But it's true - so I did!

Here's what I posted:

_________________________________________________________

Subject: You can bring me home to mom, but only if we ever get out of bed - 31 (Sunnyside)

Wanted: a smart, funny, male who wants to go out and explore this amazing city of ours.

You: amazing, fun, smart, will play Clue with me and then watch The Princess Bride, willing to be my baking taste tester and thinks the Red Panda might be the cutest animal in the zoo. That, or a lemur.

Me:

1) I tend to like sports that involve my childhood. This really involves anything having to do with snow, since I grew up in Buffalo. I love skiing, watching hockey and have been known to try a little Nancy Kerrigan action every once in a while.
2) I find that I'm comfortable in most every environment.
3) I can talk to anyone, any time. Literally.
4) I often get men who tell me they dont know how I'm single and female friends that tell me if they were lesbians they'd be trying to get up on it.
5) My mom is Buffalonian, but my Dad is Canadian. I'm a half breed.
6) I have a really good sense of smell, and at night my super sonic hearing kicks in.
7) Five is my lucky number, and green my favorite color.
8) I love to drive and go on roadtrips (and have never been in a reported accident)
9) I travel for work, and lovelovelove it.
10) I'd love to have a medium sized dog someday, but I'd like to have a yard for him/her to play in.
11) Wherever I travel, I buy a Christmas ornament. I like decorating the tree and remembering all the places I've been.
12) I am horrible at Scrabble. I love words and etymology but get beaten on Words with Friends constantly. My ego can take it.
13) I am single, never been married nor do I have children but I would like to no longer be single and one day get married and have children.
14) I know how to cook, but am a kick ass baker who thinks having dinner prepared for me is incredibly sexy.
15) I have two brothers; they're my bookends.
16) I'm a south paw.
17) I've lived in Orlando (summer at Disney), Rome (semester abroad) and Belfast (masters program), aaaaaand now I live here.
18) I think AC might be man's greatest invention
19) I like hockey more than any other sport, but to be completely truthful, its because it doesn't last that long.
20) I am the worst bowler ever. But just like karaoke, I'll give it a go anyway.
21) I'm fun. And funny.
22) I recently rediscovered a love of skiing - I really need to go more often.
23) I have incredibly soft skin.
24) I might be the least judgmental person you ever meet.
25) I've never gotten busy in the backseat of a car.

Wanna hang out? Tell me about *you*! :)

________________________________________________________________

I would also like to add that I decided to get a little frisky because I have a theory about my lack of quality response on OKC. While I truly believe that my profile is pretty much on the mark with my personality, it lacks any overt sexuality. Perhaps I'll explore this in a different post, but I feel like when online dating, that as a female, you have to exude some sexuality in order to get a higher rate of response. Okay, I digress, back to the post.

I received 27 responses in two hours. Here are some gems:

I'm cool and really tall. That's all you need to know : )

A SOUTH PAW? NO DEAL

I'll taste your pie!
#25. How about the front seat?
In traffic x

I know you want to be told about me. But after reading that list of things you posted... I have to ask 2 questions; 1. Are you real? and 2. Why are you single? They say if something is too good to be true, it usually is. What really caught my eye is that you are a kick ass baker. Having dinner ready for you is more than sexy, it's mandatory. Cooking is my passion (baking included). It might seem selfish of me to want to know to more about you without divulging info about me. Maybe you'll answer this email, I'd be more than happy to tell you all about me, but I'm way more interested in learning more about you.

I actually live right next to Sunnyside and have never been.

I am in Williamsburg and drive and would love an excuse to go to your neighborhood.

I am 32, a lawyer, over 6 feet tall, smart, sarcastic & funny.

Lets chat some more, I got a new car recently and am really thinking about the line about making out in the backseat :)

That last car comment seemed to get the most attention. A LOT of guys were interested in making #25 happen for me. How generous of them! The rest were pretty generic, some were blatantly solicitousness for some NSA action and then there were two gems. Two, honest to goodness gems. Which resulted in DATES. Craigslist was the best idea I'd had in forever! (Well, at least I thought so at the time....) <---foreshadowing alert!!

I replied to quite a few and eliminated most based on their pictures. The reasons ran the gamut of geriatric, slob, only including their torso in the picture (nice pecks dude!), creepy, next Craigslist killer, to just plain not interested.

The two gems I received deserve their own posts (to follow, clearly).

One night on Craigslist resulted in more action than match, eharmony and OKC put together. But, alas, quantity is not quality.

Recipe:

Seems like a random mix of ingredients that might make you go, whaaa? But it's bangin' and has potential to be amazing. So trust me, try it, just like my Craigslist ad - you might be surprised at what you get!

Tater Tot Casserole

1 lb Hamburger, brown with chopped onion. Place hamburger/onion mix in a greased casserole.
Mix 1 can Cream of Mushroom soup and 1/2 can of milk. Pour over hamburger. Top with 1/2 package of Tater Tots (or more.) Bake at 350 for approximately 1 hour (til bubbling and tater tots are browned.)

Not Quite Spicy Enough...

Low Sodium Taco Dude (LSTD) didn’t have a lot in the plus category before we actually met up for our date. He and I met on OKC back in November. He wooed me with discussions of Buffalo chicken wings, a topic I can probably talk about for longer than I should. After a few weeks of chatting online I told him that I wasn’t really interested in having a penpal. He agreed, not looking for a penpal. Awesome! Yay! But then he never pulled the trigger and asked me out.

So, um, if you don’t want to meet up, then wtf are we doing here? Since the timing was dead center in the holiday season, I decided to give him until the beginning of January to let his testes descend and find the balls to ask me out. He never did, so I just stopped responding. I know you could argue that I could have asked him out too, but honestly, as a female I want to be asked on the date. I feel that if he had actually had enough desire to see me, then he would have made plans to do so. So, I said next!

Fast forward to last month when I get an OKC AND gmail message from him. He was inquiring on whether I had recently taken the N train because he thought he saw me….no, sir, you did not. Good opener, though! For whatever reason I decided to give this dude another chance and *I* asked him if he wanted to meet up a few days later. We made plans to meet at 7p at a bar in his neighborhood. Around 645 he text saying that he was running about 10-15 minute late.

7:10p: I’m texting my friends trying to occupy myself

7:15p: I’m texting my friends that he has yet to arrive

7:20p: I’m texting my friends asking how long I have to wait before leaving

7:25p: I’m texting my friends saying this is bullshit and I’m ready to leave

7:27p: He texts me asking where the bar is

7:30p: I’m about to just leave because who arrives 30 minutes late and doesn’t even bother to look up where the bar is??

Color me not impressed. He rolled up 30 minutes late dressed in what can only be described as an outfit that was purchased in 1997. What am I trying to communicate? This dude wasn’t making an effort and to me, that’s pretty lame.

I somehow managed to survive around 2 and one half hours with him where I learned the highlight of his weekend was making low sodium tacos and going to bed by 9p. If that’s his idea of a rocking good time, him and I are not going to have a whole lot to talk about. When I tried to discuss the amazingness that is travel, he told me about his recent trip to Pittsburgh. Having never have visited Pittsburgh, I inquired as to what one would see while traveling there. He told me about a sandwich he had eaten. Now, I dont know enough about Pittsburgh to know whether there is *really* nothing to do besides eat sandwiches, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that LSTD was probably the problem, and NOT Pittsburgh.

LSTD wanted to go out again. I did not. Upon further examination, I have deciphered why the men I date once have such an opposing view of how the evening goes. He thought it went well enough to want to see me again. I wanted him to lose my number. Let me translate what happened.

me: So, do anything fun this weekend?

LSTD: oh…yeah…I made tacos! I made low sodium tacos!

me:

what I'm thinking: really? REALLY? THAT’S what you did on a Friday night?!

here’s what I’m actually saying with my chin on my hand, leaning forward to communicate interest: oh really? I LOVE tacos! Mexican is my favorite!

And therein lies my main issue. I feign interested when I should be trying to escape through the bathroom window. I did, however, excuse myself to go the bathroom and flag down our waitress asking for her to deliver the check.

I know this isn’t a baking recipe, but it just seems fitting.

Should you desire to make LST for yourself, here’s how it’s done:

Ingredients

1 tablespoon Chili Powder
2 teaspoons Onion Powder
1 teaspoon Ground Cumin
1 teaspoon Garlic Powder
1 teaspoon Paprika
1 teaspoon Ground Oregano

Directions

Mix all ingredients together. But don’t rub your eyes because you’ll be in pure misery, just like I felt like on my date.

Lessons for men learned from online dating

As you already know, your fearless Dating with a Dash-ers are no strangers to online dating (see Exhibit A, Exhibit B and Exhibit C offered by Emily). We know the sweet highs of sucking face with someone 6 years your junior and the spiral of depression inducing lows of foot fetishism that OkCupid is infamous for. It’s with this experience, that the ever-modest Gentleman X brings you, his loyal and oft ignored (sorry!) readers, the first annual “Lessons for men learned from online dating.”

Lessons for men learned from online dating

Lesson #1: Cast a wide net. For the purpose of this story I sent 50 messages to 50 different girls on OkCupid. Each was a personalized message of about 2 paragraphs, demonstrating that I had read her profile and asking questions for her to respond to. Of those 50 girls here’s how it broke down:

This means that out of 50 personalized messages, I got 2 dates, exchanged messages with 5 girls who just stopped responding after 1-2 exchanges, and 10 girls looked at my profile but elected not to respond. A staggering 24 girls (almost half!) took no action whatsoever, and didn’t as much as look at my profile.

The lesson in all this: message absolutely anyone you think is remotely attractive/appealing in personality because you won’t even get a chance to make an impression with more than half the girls you message.

Lesson #2: Girls get a ton of messages, so make yours count. Since I refuse to admit the lack of response has any correlation to my own shortcomings, there needs to be serious investigation as to why this number is so low. The most obvious conclusion is that my profile is somehow lacking. With that in mind, I asked Mandy and another female friend who is on OkCupid to review. After thorough inspection, it passed both tests with NO suggested edits, with one friend even saying “You seem great in it! I’d date you.” Profile inadequacies were quickly ruled out.

If not the profile then what is responsible for the girls’ inaction? There was only one way to find out. To thoroughly understand the female experience on OkCupid, my roommates and I created a female profile on OkCupid. We used only photos that did not show a face and very basic interests that we think the average girl is interested in (read: multiple references to Zumba and shows on Bravo!). The results were staggering. Within TEN minutes of creation, we got 8 messages from interested men. Two hours after activation, we had 25. All of this without even showing a face. For all these guys knew, she looked like Eric Stoltz in Mask under that blonde hair. The only conclusion we could draw from this is that every girl gets an insane volume of messages and that to break through the clutter you have to be good. Clearly, I don’t know what that entails, but my suggestions are don’t misspell, use emoticons, or mention any weird fetishes. Or do none of that and am still average a 4% success rate like me.

Lesson #3: Like anywhere in life, there are crazy girls on OkCupid and there are incredible girls on OkCupid. Undoubtedly, two of the most confusing interactions I’ve had with girls have come from OkCupid. Both got to the 2-3 date limit, and both ended at the suggestion of the girl. One because of cited “baggage issues” and the other because she “wanted something casual and going on more than 2 dates with me would send the wrong impression.” If any of you female readers can shed some light on what those mean, please leave them in the comments. Because as a man, I’m going to chalk them both up to “she’s just not that into you, man” and write their names legibly in the crazy/unable to maturely express herself column.

Conversely, I’ve met some really intelligent, beautiful and ambitious girls on OkCupid. One even ended up as my girlfriend (albeit for only 4 months). In these situations, I felt no chemistry, generally wasn’t interested or thought we weren’t all that compatible after all. Though, to my credit, every girl was given what I thought to be a mature and honest explanation in all three situations.

OkCupid is like any bar, grocery store, or women’s penitentiary; there are some really crazy girls on it and some awesome ones. Guys, it’s in your best interest to try not to like the crazy ones, but we all know that’s a lot easier said than done.

I could continue for hours on the other lessons I’ve learned from it but Mandy says I’ve gotten to have a wittily tied in recipe to share. So without further ado, I bring you an easy to make, French chocolate cake that is perfect for any date. The lesson in this one is much easier to learn then all the ones above. Girls just love chocolate cake and think a man that can cook is attractive.

Molten Chocolate Cake

Ingredients

3 eggs

3 egg yolks

4 ½ tbsp. flour, heaped

¾ cup sugar

6 oz. semi-sweet chocolate

4 oz. butter

Preparation

1. Cut chocolate into small pieces. Do the same for the butter.

2. Melt chocolate and butter together in a double boiler (i.e. grab an oven mitt, a Pyrex glass bowl and small pot of a little less than equal size of boiling hot water and melt the chocolate in the glass bowl, as it sits just barely in the water)

3. Beat whole eggs and yolks with sugar added for 12 minutes (you can take that hand mixer your mom got you when you went away to college that you’ve never used and prop it up on a small box so you don’t have to hold for all that time)

4. When the chocolate and butter mixture is melted, combine with eggs, yolks and sugar (make sure to add chocolate to eggs and not the reverse)

5. Add flour and mix batter well

6. Place butter in well-buttered and floured ramekins (or cupcake tins you get at the grocery store hanging from racks slightly above eye level) and bake for 12 minutes in a 400° preheated oven (Make sure you don’t overcook it, the center is supposed to be melted)

7. Serve with vanilla ice cream (get Haagen-Dazs or something expensive like that cause it matters with this)

Updated: Where I’ve been and the lessons I’ve learned

Talk about being lax in keeping this up to date! I can’t speak for Gentleman X or my lovely friend Mandy (because they have their own tales to tell), but I can keep you up to date on what’s been going on for me the last nine months.

Dating wise I have been on the following: OkCupid and Eharmony as well as being predominantly occupied by a certain male of the species (mentioned in this post )

As it would turn out, that was not nearly the end of that story line. There was quite a bit of back and forth and escalation of that relationship (and please note that I’m using relationship little “r” and not Relationship, because he was certainly never my BF). We were enjoying each other’s company, and I’ll let you fill in blanks of that one. This continued until October-ish when the aforementioned male met someone else and actually started officially dating her.

So that sucked.

What did I learn here? I learned that spending time with someone you work with (and thankfully we never actually worked together, because that would have made all of this THAT much worse) outside the work place, in a non-work form, really comes back to bite you in the ass when you don’t particularly want to see them on a day to day basis. Going to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee all of the sudden becomes a game of subterfuge. Cue the Mission Impossible theme music because I was skulking around corners hoping to not run into him.

Okay, it wasn’t that bad but it wasn’t awesome either. I wasn’t avoiding him because I was some sort of scorned female; I was avoiding him because I was PISSED. There was a lot that was said and I could elaborate at length, but I’ll just give you this one gem. While pointing to a car nearby, he commented, “You’re like this car. There’s nothing wrong with it; it just doesn’t have a sunroof….”

Color Me Mad for the worst analogy ever, but I couldn’t blame him for not feeling “it”.

Besides the “don’t dip your stick in the company ink” lesson, I also learned that timing is a bitch and sometimes it’s just not going to work.

So, truly, for the first time in almost two years, this dude isn’t in my orbit.

Let the dating commence.

Update: As an addendum to this post, I wanted to add that the three paragraph recount of what transpired is only one side of the coin. One can clearly not sum up an entirety of a situation in three paragraphs without omitting copious amounts of details. I do not mean to say, dear reader, that you're too thick to have assumed this on your own, I merely want to do due diligence in saying this is not a full story, and it's only my side. The End.

Recipe:

Boiling Water (we're going to start at the basics here people)

Find a pot (read: boy)

Fill it with water (read: go on a date)

Turn up the heat (read: let chemistry do its thing)

Watch it boil :)

The Crazies - Story #2

This episode of The Crazies is a little bit longer because this guy continued to send me messages. Here is his attempt to convince me he is not crazy. Fail.

Email Title: hello

Body: You were one of my quiver matches and i usually just glance at the little paragraph hit ignore and keep moving. for some reason i kept reading yours. i guess cause i saw you've been to n.o. and i wanted to see what you thought of it. but still i kept reading then i perused your pics and your eyes are amazing and your a very beautiful woman. I know you must hear that everyday from a million guys. i do think we have lots in common. i would love the opportunity to get to know you better. if anything at all a new chat buddy is great I'm really hoping to hear from you. but if not god bless and all my best wishes. personally i find it hard to see a pic and just start writing to it. i'm surprised i've written this much.
besos
alex

After this initial email, he repeatedly IMd me. Basically every.single.time I signed on. I never responded, which is why his persistence is somewhat remarkable.

Email title: hey dear
Body: My greatest ally and my greatest enemy.... Honesty.... I know that I've visited your page a few times. I've seen that you've visited mines. I would love to chat with you I do think your extremely beautiful and eloquent. I don't have mesmerizing blue eyes like you or a that smile that rivals the sun in its warmth. I can definitely guarantee good conversations and my complete honesty. I really don't come on ok cupid that much. Every now and then I pop in to see if I've been lucky enough to receive a message but usually not and it's kinda depressing to not get any. So I try and stay away for as long as I can then I get bored or lonely and pop in again. your probably asking yourself why is he telling me this. Again that honesty thing gets me. My reasoning is that maybe if I give her my face book info she'll contact me?? I know I know wishful thinking. Anyways I'm sorry for bothering you. While I would love to hear from you I understand that I am just one of the millions contacting you. I wish you all the best in your search. God Bless...

After THIS message, he continued to "wink" at me and saved me as one of his favorites, and yes, still continued to IM me. To be honest, I feel kinda bad about it.....

Nevertheless, desperation is a cologne that doesn't smell good on anyone.

The Crazies - Story #1

I feel the need to start a story thread here because lovely Mandy and I often swap stories of The Crazies that contact us. It's entertaining and therefore perfect fodder for this blog. These will be short little vignettes. A mere breath of a story. They're so compact but yet, oh so potent. Just like a SBD.

My most recent communication from OKC:

Email title: Ur the 1

Body: I think I'm in luv with u, everything on ur profile, I feel like I kno u, its seems weird but maybe in my past life u were my wife!

That's not crazy, not crazy at all.....

The Freak Flag

As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been in contact with dudes on OKC. Here is my one large takeaway and piece of advice to the opposite sex.

We are all sexual beings (some more than others) and I understand that we all have our “things”. For me, I like hands. And broad backs. I like manly men. Rugby players and Paul Bunyons are right up my alley. There are boob men. And ass men. And men who like skinny girls, curvy girls, and everything in between. We all have our things, I get it. However, I don’t want to know your sexual proclivity within the first five minutes of chatting with you. That is not enough time. But it IS enough time for me to say, um, okay, you just flew your freak flag too soon aaaaaaaaaand Ima peace out now.

When I am IMd on OKC I usually respond when 1) I’m in the mood to :-/ (I know) and 2) your picture seems attractive to me on some level, and lastly 3) if you start of the conversation with some sort of compliment. This will at the very least elicit a “hey” back.

On a few separate occasions, I have been in conversation with a dude and it’s gone something like this:

Dude: you’ve got a beautiful smile. How’s your night going?

me: aw, thanks. :-) it’s going well, you?

Dude: blah blah blah, more flirting

me: teehee, flirt flirt

Dude: talk nonchalantly about how awesome I am

me: I find that very interesting!

Dude: (out of blue) will you send me a picture of your feet?

me: _______no response______

Dude: hello? Did I say something?

me: ______no response_______

Dude: so, no picture?

Dude: how about I come over and give you a foot massage?

or:

Dude: Hi….I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re beautiful

me: hey :-) thanks!

Dude: talking talking talking about something he’s seen in my profile

me: yeah, I’m half Canadian but I was born in the US

Dude: I love Buffalo! And chicken wings!

me: {thinking, ooooooo, I think I like this guy!} I have to warn you though, I’m a chicken wing snob….

Dude: (conversation segwaying into what we do professionally) I’m an “Ad Man”

me: I throw him some ad jargon to show I’m advertising savvy and interested in him

Dude: you know what I do! you’re brilliant!

me: :-)

Dude: tell me about your legs

me:{AW MAN! flew his freak flag, aaaaaaaand I’m done}

Ad Man had potential, and I would have definitely gone on a date with him. Incidentally, I did flirt with him a little bit longer and gave him my number, which he called and that I let go to VM. What can I say? I think of myself as a ’nice girl’, but no I’m not perfect. Why didn’t I pick up the phone when he called? Because he flew his freak flag too soon. It does not bother me that legs are his thing. Totally fine. But to bring it up on this medium and that soon, it just doesn’t jive with me.

I guess I’m looking for a little bit more of a gentleman. I, too, want a gentleman on the street but a freak in the bed -- as they say. Let’s fly our freak flags people, but in the right place and time. Just a thought. Incidentally, if you want to send me a picture of you that shows your non-hobbit-like hands, that would be okay too.

Introducing Gentleman X!

Good morning ladies and gents. Is it nice where you are? It’s beautiful here. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Gentleman X, the ladies of Dating with a Dash of Salt’s charmingly anonymous heterosexual male friend. After a year and a half in a committed, monogamous relationship, I have been released into the wilds of singledom, thanks in part to a puppy (story to come at a later date). With little fanfare, I find myself thrust back into the NYC singles scene, and therefore in a position to provide the much needed testosterone shot to this blog. Ladies, join me as we laugh at my shortcomings and difficulties connecting with others. Men, join me in the times we will toast my successes (rate of frequency to be determined). Ask me anything and rest assured, the things Mandy has asked me will ALWAYS be more obscene and personal than anything you come up with.

So right off the bat, let‘s address the elephant in the room. As a 24 year old straight man living in New York City, it is NOT hard to meet girls. It’s a fact, there are more women than men (unless it’s Fleet Week), and the areas where it’s easiest to pick up a girl are common knowledge. That said, it can be a daunting task to meet a girl that one really likes. Let’s check a scenario:

It’s Saturday night. Yours truly is in the basement bar of a club in Union Square. Music is playing, lights are low, and there is drinking to be done. I weave my way through the crowd, towards the bar, to grab drinks for my two friends and I. Cocktails in hand I slowly make my way back to my group, only to be stopped by three girls. “It’s her birthday!” yells one, while pointing to her friend. We exchange pleasantries, and I end up dumping the drinks and talking with the girls. Inevitably, I find myself talking only to the tall blonde, Lucy (name was NOT changed to protect the innocent). She works in advertising (me too!), likes the Kings of Leon (me too!) and plays tennis (not me, but I rock at badminton, close enough). We talk for a bit, and I excuse myself to rejoin my friends after getting her number. She gives it, seemingly eagerly and says she is looking forward to hanging out with me.

Fast forward the requisite two days and it comes time to call her (question for the girls: is it two days? Does a man need to wait to call you?). I step out the front door of my office, dial her number and let it ring. After a time, it goes to voicemail, so I leave a message. Lo and behold, it’s more than a week later and nothing; No call, no text. Lucy has gone from being a pretty, seemingly cool girl to a careless, self absorbed primadonna in the blink of an eye. Why even give me her digits if she wasn’t responsive? Is it that hard to lie and say “I have a boyfriend” if you aren’t interested? Don’t make me plan out calling you and then go through the hassle of leaving you an awkward voicemail. I hate voicemails. I don’t even leave them for my family members.

So Lucy, this recipe is for you. Don’t waste my time. Get some balls and don’t give out your number to dudes you don’t want to call you.

Chicken Cordon Bleu Balls

9 ounces ground chicken
1/4 cup cooked, diced ham
1 egg
1/2 cup Italian style bread crumbs
8 ounces Swiss cheese, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
canola oil for pan-frying

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
2. Combine the chicken, and egg in a large bowl until well blended. Gradually add bread crumbs until the mixture loses its stickiness and can be easily formed into balls.
3. Form the chicken mixture around the cheese cubes and chunks of ham, forming 2 inch balls. Place on a plate.
4. Heat 1 1/2 inches of oil in a deep skillet to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Fry the balls until the outsides are golden brown, about 4 minutes. Drain on paper towels, and place in baking dish.
5. Bake in preheated oven until cooked through and cheese is soft, about 20 minutes. Cool briefly before serving.

Online Dating. Free versus Paid.

Last summer I joined eharmony and dated (unsuccessfully) a few males. Over the winter I joined match.com and dated no one. Eharmony was really good at matching me up with people that I was compatible with, I simply didn’t have any chemistry with them……and the dudes on eharmony weren’t….um……..very attractive. On match.com, however, the profiles featured more attractive males, but I didn’t get the “success” that I did on eharmony. And after paying around $300 for my time on those sites I gave up on paying.

Paid sites discarded, I joined the masses on Okcupid.com. Here’s the lowdown on OKC. Pros: I get more traffic and contact on OKC than I did on the paid sites. Cons: when you click on someone’s profile and they’re online, they get a little notification that you’ve just looked at their profile. For whatever reason, I hate this. I do not want people knowing that I’m scoping them out. I know, it shouldn’t matter - it's a DATING site, but I hate this aspect of the site. I usually say an expletive out loud and immediately close the browser. This is how much I hate this site. Pro/Con: there is an IM feature. It’s a Pro in that it allows you to connect with someone immediately, it’s a Con in that I usually don’t feel like responding.

Remember how I just told you that someone can see that you’re checking them out? This is how it goes: I’m on the site, trolling for an attractive, non-crazy, hopefully employed, funny, interesting, non-self involved, intelligent man that hasn’t been snatched up yet and someone who is none of those things will IM me. But I need to click on their profile before I know this. So I do. And now they know I’ve checked them out. But I don’t want to talk to them. It’s just a basketful of uncomfortableness before I curse and close my browser.

Generalizations about people on OKC: the people on this site are more prone to be looking for someone to hook up than looking for someone to have a fruitful LTR with. Because of this I encounter many interesting men. And am IMd by them. And have quite a few interesting conversations with them (specific blog on this to come).

So, as I said in my last post, I am taking up the dating mantle again and giving online dating the ole college try. Paid sites out, free site in. And oh, its just as entertaining out there as ever!

Recipe:

Hang around your office meeting rooms around 2pm where you are bound to find free food leftover from lunch meetings. The food might be a little slimy, but at least it's free.

Dating with a Dash v2.0

Well, hello there! I bet you thought this blog was defunct, but you were wrong! Like the winter season, we were in hibernation but now we’re back with a vengeance! The summer months are quickly approaching, leaving us with the desire to get out there and explore not just the city, but the dating world as well.

You will notice a few changes to the blog, however. Once a trio of ladies, we are now down by one. Ms. Kelly has entered the realm of having a Plus One and will no longer be a contributor to this illustrious blog. She has found her Significant Other by the hand of yours truly and I take all credit for making this match happen. Male or Female, I full out expect them to name their first child Emily. Secondly, we will be introducing a male contributor! Gentleman X will be blogging occasionally and I think a male perspective here will be welcome and………interesting. J

Those are the updates here at Dating with a Dash of Salt. We’ll be posting new entries soon!

Dating, but Not.

I haven't been on a "date" in a while. Hence, the silence. I haven't been dating because 1) eharmony was exhausting and not fruitful, and 2) I was crushin' on someone else. It's funny how much clearer things are when you're on the other side of them. In the thick of this, I could not see the forest through the trees. Now, I'm hitting the clearing and seeing, wow, I just wasted a lot of time on that.

I was told from the outset that this male was not interested in a relationship. I did not listen. I guess I kinda figured that after an appropriate amount of time, he would get over the ex, realize that I was amazing....and, well, choose me. He did not. But strangely enough, it's okay.

I'd been in this weird purgatory of not knowing where we stood since we were friends.... but not just friends. Last week I did what every adult woman does. I got wasted by myself and wrote him a long incoherent email. I am very mature. We eventually discussed the e-mail and while, kindly, he did not come out and say the words, "I do not like you. Because, you smell." he didn't need to. Sometimes silence says what words do not.

As much as I thought hearing (or not hearing) that phrase would suck, it didn't. I feel surprisingly better. Freer. Now that I know that this will never become more than it is/was, I can look forward. Perhaps I should have tried my drunken tactics a few months ago.

me: "Hey! You! You're rad, I like you!"

him: "oh, yeah, about that....."

me: "oh, really? huh. Okay, good to know"

The End.

And now I can move on. I don't know if it's back to online dating or what my next tactic will be. But hey, it's a new year and now I'm not reserving part of myself in denied hope that this was going to become something.

Here's to fresh starts!

Lemon Meringue Pie (because it's sweet, tart, and FRESH!)

Ingredients

Lemon Filling:

• 4 egg yolks (reserve whites for meringue)
• 1/3 cup cornstarch
• 1 1/2 cups water
• 1 1/3 cups sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 1/2 cup lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
• 1 (9-inch) pre-baked pie shell
• 1 recipe Meringue, recipe follows

Directions

Adjust the oven rack to the middle position. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Whisk egg yolks in medium size mixing bowl and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, combine cornstarch, water, sugar, and salt. Whisk to combine. Turn heat on medium and, stirring frequently, bring mixture to a boil. Boil for 1 minute. Remove from heat and gradually, 1 whisk-full at a time, add hot mixture to egg yolks and stir until you have added at least half of the mixture.

Return egg mixture to saucepan, turn heat down to low and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 more minute. Remove from heat and gently stir in butter, lemon juice, and zest until well combined. Pour mixture into pie shell and top with meringue while filling is still hot. Make sure meringue completely covers filling and that it goes right up to the edge of the crust. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until meringue is golden. Remove from oven and cool on a wire rack. Make sure pie is cooled completely before slicing.

Meringue Topping:

• 4 egg whites
• 1 pinch cream of tartar
• 2 tablespoons sugar

Place egg whites and cream of tartar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat egg whites until soft peaks form and then gradually add sugar and continue beating until stiff peaks form, approximately 1 to 2 minutes. Use to top lemon filling.

Yield: topping for 1 (9-inch) pie

It’s not me. It’s you. And your teenage angst.

Two of my best friends have lately suffered the same agonizing, horrifying fate.

It begins innocently enough. Two people meet, go out on a couple of dates. Maybe hit the sack once or twice…”I really like you”…”I like you, too”…and then bam…out of left field someone drops the, “I think you are great, but I’m just not emotionally available right now.”

Sometimes it continues with an explanation, “Once, in high school my girlfriend cheated on me and it ruined me for life. Even though that was over 8 years ago, I’m just not ready to let anyone in.”

Then one glistening tear falls down their face. So. Much. Emotion.

These words are, of course, teenage angst in a new and demented form. In New York it happens once every 13 minutes. Or once every 5 minutes if you are unlucky enough to inhabit Brooklyn. Unfortunately, most of my friends are attracted to Brooklynites like a moth to the flame.

And then, after the bomb of “emotionally unavailable” explodes the relationship into a zillion tiny little pieces that can never be put back together, he or she discovers that emotionally unavailable person is dating someone else. And then he or she feels like shit. Complete and utter shit. The type of shit that gets stuck on your shoe, dries and then leaves shit all over your apt in little dried up shitballs.

Even after the shitballs are vacuumed and the carpet fabreezed, they live on because you’ve only destroyed their body. Not their soul. Because the shitballs were really horcruxes and you only destroyed 3 of the necessary seven. That is shit science, my friends.

The shitball seed of doubt has been planted, and for weeks, nay months, every action of the opposite sex either affirms or denies their self worth.

We have all been there. I know I certainly have many times. And I know what you are thinking, and you are correct, she is totally not as pretty as me. She has nice hair, but other than that she is busted. And her personality sucks, too. Also. Did I mention that she sucks? One more time: she sucks.

But despite how sucky she may be, reality is he picked her. And they are in love. And they will probably get married and dilute his glorious, glorious genes with her sucky ones, and they will have completely average children who eat glue and almost fail out of college due to their excessive drinking habits, whereas our children would have written the next great American novel and won the Nobel Peace Prize for their work with orphans in the Congo.

We all have choices. He chose wrong. But that is not the point.

The point is: in his emotionally unavailable pity party he didn’t realize those things and he doesn’t deserve to have Noble Peace Prize winning children with me. The end.

Also, some people want average. They don’t want the challenge that comes with smart or funny or quirky or whatever else. Some people just want what society has told them to want and they don’t want to work hard for it.

The best way I can describe this is by paraphrasing something this guy said on The Real World last night to describe a girl he was dating.

“I like her because she is blond. I like that she has a nice body. I like that she says ditzy things when we hang out. I like that she has a high voice. Those are important qualities to me.”

Despite the fact that everything that comes out of his mouth is usually purposefully inflammatory, he was being serious. I turned to my roommate and said, “That is what is wrong with kids today.”

Someone’s hair color is not a quality. And someone worth being with isn’t going to think that way, because to think that way is to make everyone interchangeable. That is some Brave New World bullshit.

In my wise old age of 24, I know that I never want to be reduced to a string of physical qualities and any guy who doesn’t see how awesome I am for actual, quality reasons isn’t worth my time.

Sometimes relationships don’t work out for real reasons, clearly, some people just aren’t compatible. But if the “emotionally unavailable” card is ever played my advice is to run. Run far, far away. Because nothing screams “emotional immaturity” as loud or as clear. Even if they are 32. And you are better without them, because they didn’t appreciate you fully to begin with.

And when they do date someone else who you are far superior to, take some solace in the fact that they probably only like them for their stupid hair and fat ass. And you, my friend, are much, much more than that.

Lastly, do everything in your power to destroy those last horcruxes. My general advice is to tell my friends to get a hobby, which they don't really appreciate, but I think is sound advice. It will make you even more well-rounded than you already are.

Recipe for Shitballs.

Step on some shit.
Let it dry out.
Walk around your Apt.