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The Australian

29 Nov

I guess when I pictured a date with an Australian man I imagined a tan, fresh-faced stud who smelled like a breezy field of marigolds.  Or at least Aussie shampoo.  What I actually got was a lanky cowpoke with topographical features who smelled as if he had just munched on a doobie in a dank cellar.

I am experimenting with this new concept where I stick to a two-drink maximum on blind dates.  This ended up backfiring on this particular evening because the bar sold wine by the carafe rather than by the glass.  But who can say no to a carafe?  This is one of my new Rules of Adulthood I wrote down in my lady-diary after I turned 28 a few days ago.  Other rules include “Don’t eat pizza for breakfast” and “Learn how to say no.”

We met at a German beer bar with a bunch of fireplaces and fancy tubed meats.  The Australian arrived shortly after my first carafe was ordered, greeting me with a flaccid hug.  You’ll never believe me, but he described the temperature in the bar in true Australian jargon, saying it was “Warm as a pouch” in there.  This statement allowed me to breach the topic of my kangaroo fascination to him and he bragged about lifelong field trips to joey sanctuaries.  I can’t remember anything else he said because I stopped listening after “joey sanctuary.”  That was all I needed to hear.  He was very soft-spoken and I often had to ask him to repeat himself… but I could’ve listened to his accent for a few more carafes.  Damn, I forgot to ask him about didgeridoos.

Note to self:  The two-drink limit rule doesn’t work if, after the blind date, I meet up with someone else and have 76 more beers.  I reunited with The Night Raven after the Aussie and I went our separate ways.  He had just returned from a Thanksgiving trip to The Big Easy and had a very special surprise for me.  Keychains!  I can always count on The Night Raven when I’m feeling blue for some keychains and good cheer.

Despite my original intention to take it easy, those two carafes made for a rude awakening the next morning.  I came to next to a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and several strange tweets I had apparently written about how much I love the solar system.  New rule:  Don’t eat Doritos ever again and try not to allow gay bars to enter your realm of possibilities on a Tuesday night.


Jobless Jake

16 Oct

What do you get when an albino, a kleptomaniac, and an ex-con all work at Wendy’s together?  A date with Jobless Jake, apparently.

A few nights ago I found myself surrounded by action figures at Gotham City, a Batman-themed bar in the depths of North Brooklyn.  I rung a buzzer to be let in to a room the size of my living room that was covered in comic books and other such paraphernalia.  I took a seat at one of the eight barstools and each of the four patrons turned around to greet me and ask what I was up to that evening (I was the only girl in the room).  The bartender’s sense of humor was dry as a bone and he reminded me of a sly alien.

“Jake” had moved to New York from Oklahoma four months prior and was in the middle of the job hunt of the century.  I assumed he must be looking for a very specific job, but he told me he was applying for anything he could find.  It struck me as odd that someone could be out looking for a job of any sort every day for four months to no avail.  I had finished half a beer when Jake arrived.  He was balding, blonde, and looked like he’d had a lot of extra helpings from the family chili pot.  In fact, he kind of looked like Phillip Seymour Hoffman.  We introduced ourselves and the bartender brought over two shots of whiskey “to break the ice.”  I asked how things were going on the job front and he said that he decided the problem was that he was over-qualified– at least that’s what the woman at the job center told him earlier that week.  I wondered if he’d tried searching for employment opportunities on Craigslist and he said that he had, but could only find postings for work as a maid.  “Uh what job category are you looking under?” I asked, and he answered “Miscellaneous.”  What?  No one looks for job listings under Miscellaneous unless they want to be a research study test subject or in an “independent film” where girls get naked and throw suds at each other in a car wash.

Throughout the evening I gathered that he had a college degree in English (equally asinine as my degree in Theatre) and had formerly worked at a Wendy’s (with an albino, a kleptomaniac, and an ex-con) and as a bagger at the local grocery store back in Oklahoma.  He said he really didn’t like his job at the grocery store because he didn’t like being chastised about how to bag loaves of bread.  His roommate that he had moved here with was paying his rent until he found a job.  But he told me not to worry– he could afford to buy me one PBR because they were only two dollars.  I told him I would buy my own drinks.  He lamented that he was having a hard time taking OKCupid girls out because he didn’t have a job and most girls weren’t interested in partaking in free activities on a blind date.  His only other option was the Batman bar.  And there we were.

We naturally progressed to the topic of OKCupid and the usual questions: “How long have you been on it?  How do you like it?  How many dates have you gone on?”  Jake had only gone on one or two other dates so far.  His first date was with a plus-sized girl who asked if he was gay five minutes after meeting him.  I have to admit the same thing crossed my mind, but I wasn’t about to ask him when his profile specified his interest in women.  Apparently he met her at a bar and she spent the whole night complaining about everything, including her friends, whom she had brought with her on the date.  Jake said he ended up really liking the other people they were hanging out with at the bar and even ended up “Friend-zoning it” with some of her friends.  I had never heard that expression before, but mentally catalogued it alongside people who use the phrases “Mickey-D’s” and “Va-jayjay.”  Jake actually called her to hang out again after that, but she never called him back.  After we finished sharing the joy of the OKCupid bond, we shared the joy of the divorced-parents bond and the social media bond.  I told him Facebook makes me tired and Instagram makes me depressed, but I like Twitter.  He said he likes Facebook because he’s “friends” with a bunch of hot babes… but he could never date any of them because all they do is write about how much they hate their parents.  I asked if these “hot babes” were thirteen years old, but he assured me they were at least twenty.

After another round, he walked me to my train stop and asked if I wanted to hang out again.  I said sure because I always say sure… then talk my way out of it later from the privacy of my boudoir.  I felt a little guilty because he looked surprised at my answer.

Before I climbed the stairway to embark on my long journey home, Jake said “Oh yeah, I almost forgot…” and handed me a keychain!  It’s a little orange egg that opens up to reveal some dinosaurs in the midst of a battle with a T Rex.  No one has given me a moving keychain before and it’s definitely a welcome addition to my collection.

I think I just “Friend-zoned” it with Jobless Jake.

The Night Raven

4 Sep

The Night Raven comes at night.  Swiftly, silently; he is unseen coming and going.

The Night Raven feeds on fine whiskeys and gins, breathing in his alcohol like cool mountain air.  He is smart.  Maybe too smart for his own good, and he has seen things I cannot imagine.  His thoughts hover in the humid darkness…… and wait for mine to catch up.  Pulsing candlelight frolics in the background, and, as gin splashes over my fingers, a wave of calm inexplicably washes over my erratic equilibrium.  He warns me about the dangers of opening up to men, letting them in, showing them my weaknesses.  He understands.  He has enjoyed the company of both sexes.

The Night Raven doesn’t see gender.  And he doesn’t see that my shirt is wrinkled; that my hair fell limp from the humidity two hours ago.  He opens a wounded wing to reveal his offering to me: a collection of three keychains and four magnets from his travels through Poland and Turkey.

I smile with my eyes.  I sip my gin.  I hold souvenirs from faraway places I can’t afford to visit in my hand.  I nod my head and confidently show him my weaknesses.

I look at his eyes instead of his scars while I do.


25 Aug

Last night I went on two different dates.  The first was with JesusLuvr69.  He told me to meet him at the Empire State Building at 7pm, then later changed our meeting point to some bar in Hell’s Kitchen.  I was already running 30 minutes late, then got off at the wrong stop and had to walk 20 blocks to the bar.  En route, I ran into two separate thespians I knew from grad school.  Hell’s Kitchen is like the thespian mecca.  At that point, I was tired of walking and annoyed that JesusLuvr69 had made me trek all the way up there, so I went into the next bar I passed and texted him to meet me there.  As soon as I sent the text, he called and left me a voice mail, which I ignored.  I had warned him twice I don’t like talking on the phone, and at this point, I didn’t care if he thought I was a brat .  He arrived at the bar in a jolly mood despite my extreme tardiness and change of venue.  He was still in his work clothes (full-blown businessman attire) and seemed like he was probably in a fraternity in college.  After we finished our round, he asked if I would accompany him to a restaurant a couple blocks away on the Hudson River.

While we walked, JesusLuvr69 did something I was taken aback by… Every time we crossed the street, he moved to the side of me that was facing oncoming traffic.  We passed a sprinkler and he blocked me with his body so that he would get wet instead of me.  At one point we crossed what appeared to be a one-way street, and when he saw that it wasn’t, he apologized for crossing on the wrong side of me.  Now I’ve had guys pull out chairs and open doors for me before, but I’ve never had someone shield me from the perils of moving vehicles.  I wanted to remind him that I’m an adult living in New York City and I’m well-accustomed to crossing streets, but I didn’t want to be a jerk.  We got to the riverside spot and he ordered beers and some chicken fingers.  I have to admit, it was a lovely evening to be eating chicken down by the river.  JesusLuvr69 was very nice, but a little slow.  I had to explain things to him a few times before they would register.  He worked in sales (selling Virgin Mary figurines and patriotic Croc knock-offs to Dollar Stores, as I mentioned in my last post) but kept referring to his job as “working in fashion.”

After we finished our fingers, he asked if he could take me to one more place.  We walked a few more blocks to the entrance of some stuffy-looking hotel on the river, then took an elevator up to the sixteenth floor and walked out into an incredible rooftop lounge.  The bar itself was large, dark, and full of rich people.  Looking at the menu, I was glad I was there with an old-fashioned gentleman who was going to pay for my drinks.  A Brooklyn Lager alone was $11.  I had some gin concoction that was $16.  We took our drinks out on the deck by a little reflecting pool and looked out over the best view of Manhattan I think I’ve ever seen.  We talked about our families, how he had been in the military briefly, and how it may be a deal-breaker for him that I’ve never seen “Top Gun.”  Around this time, another guy I had had tentative plans with for sometime this week began texting me to meet up.  JesusLuvr69 had to work in the morning and told me he needed to head home in a bit, so I secretly agreed to meet “Ralph” in an hour.

I let JesusLuvr69 touch my hand for 30 seconds while we finished our drinks (I’m about as willing to hold hands as I am to talk on the phone).  I told him I was going to take the train back to Brooklyn and he said he would walk me to the stop.  Then he changed his mind and informed me that he was going to buy me a cab home since I must be tired from all the walking.  I tried to tell him I’m capable of walking (mainly because I felt guilty I was going to go meet someone else) but he wouldn’t hear of it.  He hailed a cab and handed the driver a twenty, instructing him to take me to Brooklyn.  Then he pulled me in for a dainty Christian kiss.  Once the cab pulled away, I told the driver to drop me at Ludlow and Rivington.  Upon arrival, he tried to charge me $13 for the ride (as if I didn’t see JesusLuvr69 hand him $20), to which I responded with “Nice try, buddy.  Go ahead and keep the change.”  I have the worst luck with cab drivers.

Ralph was already at the bar.  He was much cuter in person than he was online (he kinda looked like a snarky gargoyle in his pictures).  He was tall and dark and had good taste in music and even better taste in movies.  No, I have never seen “Top Gun,” but Ralph and I shared a favorite movie in common that no one has ever seen or heard of before unless I forced them to watch it with me.  So he immediately got 50 bonus points in my book for that.  I don’t really remember much of our conversation.  It was pretty brief since he had to drive back to Jersey where he lives (minus 30 points) and because my gin concoction had been pretty strong.  I walked him to his car and on the way got distracted by a box of street books.  I love street books.  I selected a book, I think we hugged goodbye, then I acquired a beef frank and walked to the train.  The F wasn’t running at 2nd Ave, so I walked and walked and walked around the East Village until the clock struck one and my paycheck went into my bank account.  Then I took a cab home, exhausted from having easily walked 50+ blocks total that evening, but titillated by my new book about grammar.  It’s old and falling apart, and there’s a line of books with noses doing a kick-line on the cover.  A lot of guys on OKCupid could benefit from some grammar lessons.

As for my dates last night, JesusLuvr69 was a nice guy, but his uber-chivalry and affinity for voice mails kind of weirded me out.  I also had to explain things multiple times to him and I don’t think he really got my humor.  Ralph was cool, but it sucks he lives in Poopville, New Jersey and doesn’t come into the city that much.  I would hang out with him again, though.  Especially because (I almost forgot the best part!)… he brought me a KEYCHAIN!  It has been awhile since my last keychain offering, and this one might be my favorite so far.  It’s sparkly and opens to reveal a mirror inside.  He had gone to LA when we first started chatting on OKCupid, and decided to bring me back a keychain after I expressed my adoration for them.  Instant second date material.  Sometimes all it takes is a glittery keychain and a vintage book about grammar to feel like the richest lady of them all.

Grandma’s Bisexual Spice Rack

25 Jun

Last Wednesday night (aka day three of my OKCupid marathon) was a repeat.  I rarely go on second dates unless I actually like the person… which, unfortunately, doesn’t happen very often.

I had to go out with this guy (“Cody”) again because I couldn’t remember anything about him other than the fact that I had been intrigued by his bizarreness.  I usually take notes after all my blind dates (sometimes during, like in the case with Dennis the night before) and the only thing I had written down under Cody’s name was “Grandma’s bisexual spice rack.”  I knew he was bisexual and I remembered him smelling like a plethora of dried herbs… but I couldn’t remember anything else.  He had left the country a few days after we first met and it had been over a month since then.  Of course I asked him to bring me back a keychain, but my expectations were low.

We met at a bar in South Williamsburg, and as soon as I walked in, the bartender leapt out from behind the bar to give me a hug.  I hadn’t realized it, but this was the bar that my buddy who used to bartend across the street from my job had moved to.  I sat down next to Cody, who had also acquainted himself with the bartender.  I recognized right away that Cody was wearing the same shirt as last time- with an anatomical sketch of a ribcage covering the front.  He was cute, albeit a bit awkward in his body.  He kind of reminded me of a bald eagle who has seen too much.  He did have a nice head of hair, though.

I also remembered that he drank like a pro.  I think he had about six glasses of straight gin while I was there… and he had been at the bar drinking two hours beforehand.  I took it easy because I worked the next day, and because even I can’t drink like that.  We chatted for a couple hours, he showed me his new tattoo, and reminded me of the story of his worst blind date.  He had told me this story last time, but clearly I had been catatonic and didn’t remember anything.  Apparently, he went on a blind date with a cute girl from OKCupid and the first thing she brought up was her cat and how she suspected he had an undescended testicle.  (The cat, not Cody.)  She went on to tell him that she had to start sleeping on her stomach, because the cat wouldn’t stop humping her chest.  She said it had been getting better, however, since she bought him a stuffed monkey to hump instead.  Now, if your cat’s genitals aren’t a prime first date topic, I don’t know what is.  I have never seen a cat hump anything, but I did have a large Jewish Canadian attempt to ride my leg like a dollar store donkey the night before.

Around this part of the evening, he reached into his man-purse and bestowed upon me the KEYCHAIN JACKPOT.  I never knew airport souvenirs could excite me so much.  He had gone above and beyond the assignment and brought me back a keychain from Quebec, Munich, and Cologne.  He apologized that he had forgotten to get me one from London.

After that, it became more and more apparent just how intoxicated Cody was.  I offered to walk him home and told him I would meet him outside in one minute- I wanted to say goodnight to the bartender.  When I got outside, he was nowhere to be found.  I walked the perimeter of the block, but he had disappeared into the night.  I even tried calling him (I hate talking on the phone) to no avail.  He texted me the next day, apologizing for his weak liver and thanking me for a lovely evening.  It had been a lovely evening.  Contrary to what my blog may convey, it doesn’t take much to please me.  A good bar, some laughs, cat testicles, and a treasure trove of keychains usually does the trick.


The 2012 Keychain Experiment

26 May

After five months or so on OKCupid, I have come up with the most brilliant of plans.  Almost every guy on the website uploads pictures of himself doing some serious traveling.  Many of these guys even kill two birds with one stone and put up a picture where they’re in a foreign country, topless, jumping off a cliff into a body of water.  This allows them to show us ladies not only how worldly they are, but also what they look like without a shirt on.  And we all know how important the shirtless bathroom mirror shot is when selecting a mate.  Sometimes I’ll even check out a guy’s profile and find that each of his profile pictures were taken in a different country, featuring him wearing sunglasses and a fez, riding camels, climbing a monument, spelunking in a fanny pack, holding someone’s native baby, etc.  In many cases you can’t even tell what they look like because they are so far away in front of a mountain or something on fire.

Anyway, after lamenting for days over how my keys have been looking a little naked lately, I came up with a pleasing and challenging solution:  Try to get as many guys to bring me a keychain offering as I can!  I can’t afford to travel the world right now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a happening keychain situation.

None of my friends seem to be as excited about this as I am, but really, the possibilities are endless.  Ah well, who will be laughing when I have fobs from around the globe?!  Right now, I’m looking at potential keychains from Prague, Morocco, Uzbekistan, and Idaho.  I wasn’t sure if they have keychains in Idaho, so I told that guy I would accept a potato magnet as well.

Thus far, I have received one keychain- A Washington D.C. one from Judgmental Jonah. Here it is with my keys and yoga card.

I will be sure to keep you abreast of any and all keychain updates!