Jdating
In my goal to be fair and balanced I feel it's only right that I share my the about me section of my jdate profile. You can view my profile in its entirety here.
I'm a very well rounded individual. I can be seen on Emeril Live and reciting Walt Whitman verse in Gramercy Park. I memorize Zagat's guides simply cause I can. I buy the unlimited Metrocard just to see how low I can get my CPR (cost per ride). I don't snowboard, but ski semi-professionally. Only semi cause I am also high powered Corporate Raider the rest of the year. I read the Times, WSJ, and Mlady Svet daily. I can debate the finer points of deforestation and why the Nets deserve to be in Brooklyn. People often confuse me with Doogie Howser. I play the triangle, dance the horrah, shop at Sephora.
I've been on two very bad jdates and probably saved myself from another by explaining to my potential date that I recently ran into my sleep-away camp girlfriend and the chemistry was still undeniable and thus warranted further exploration. In one case I had seen a picture and in the other I was flying blind. In retrospect I wish was indeed blind and deaf on both dates.
One date 1 we met at Cosi on 6th Avenue and 49th. I was running late after attending a funeral in New Jersey for a colleague's mother and subsequently getting caught in Lincoln Tunnel traffic. The day had not started out joyously by any measure, but was about to get worse. My feeling is if the physical chemistry is lacking, but the conversational chemistry is good I will suffer through the date. However, the only chemistry taking place was the dissolving of the sugar in my coffee. I was on a jdate with a proportional opera lover. Keywords being proportional and opera. In my quest to keep the conversation following I asked the major ice-breaker questions, but did I ever open a can worms with what music do you like. Opera came out. I hate the opera. Something about singing in a foreign language just doesn't make sense to me and no you can't understand what is happening by the acting. Obviously, I know the plot, two people fall in love one dies. Its universal, universally boring that is. After explaining I was not an opera fan she proceeded to talk incessantly about opera for the next 45 minutes. Imagine diarrhea, now imagine diarrhea coming out of one's mouth, got that image, this was worse. She even had the audacity to order another tea that comes is mug big enough for Mary-Kate to bath in. I continued to be polite, but when she pulled out the schedule for the Met and suggested ones she believed I would like my patience began to wear. They snapped when she invited me to a performance at a later date. I unfortunately had dinner plans with my aunt's cat that I couldn't break. I thought I heard the last of her until I got IMs from operagirl, then musicdiva11, then operadiva. She is to this day the only person on my IM block list.
Date 2 was my fault. I was warned ahead of time that she may not have the body type I'm usually attracted to by a male friend and then by her the night before we were to meet. When she referred to herself as voluptuous I knew I may be in trouble, but only an jerk would break the date after hearing about said date's ample posterior. An asshole on the other hand satirizes the events of the date on a weblog. She was wearing a track jacket in her picture, I was seduced by the hipster chic and had never been on a date with someone from Brooklyn. We went for drinks and appetizers to Mica Bar on East 51st. She sucked down 2 specialty cocktails in a hurry and followed that up with a quesadilla eating demonstration. Fully satiated, she turned her attention back towards me, causing me to ponder the pros and cons of ordering more food. Pro she goes back to eating, mouth and tongue are monopolized tragically preventing her from speaking. Con, I was getting the bill. We talked. An hour and a half later I was getting tired and had a full day of sleeping late before going to work in pajamas downstairs in my living room. So we walked to 2nd Avenue so I coud hail a cab, indeed a true gentleman. Maybe I was exuding asshole pheromones that you women find so attractive, but she asked if she could come back to my place. Not one for one night stands ever and clearly not ready to set a precedent I informed her that unfortunately my cousin from Idaho was staying over.
AristocraCity firmly believes misery loves company so post your jdate nightmares as a comment to this blog.
I'm a very well rounded individual. I can be seen on Emeril Live and reciting Walt Whitman verse in Gramercy Park. I memorize Zagat's guides simply cause I can. I buy the unlimited Metrocard just to see how low I can get my CPR (cost per ride). I don't snowboard, but ski semi-professionally. Only semi cause I am also high powered Corporate Raider the rest of the year. I read the Times, WSJ, and Mlady Svet daily. I can debate the finer points of deforestation and why the Nets deserve to be in Brooklyn. People often confuse me with Doogie Howser. I play the triangle, dance the horrah, shop at Sephora.
I've been on two very bad jdates and probably saved myself from another by explaining to my potential date that I recently ran into my sleep-away camp girlfriend and the chemistry was still undeniable and thus warranted further exploration. In one case I had seen a picture and in the other I was flying blind. In retrospect I wish was indeed blind and deaf on both dates.
One date 1 we met at Cosi on 6th Avenue and 49th. I was running late after attending a funeral in New Jersey for a colleague's mother and subsequently getting caught in Lincoln Tunnel traffic. The day had not started out joyously by any measure, but was about to get worse. My feeling is if the physical chemistry is lacking, but the conversational chemistry is good I will suffer through the date. However, the only chemistry taking place was the dissolving of the sugar in my coffee. I was on a jdate with a proportional opera lover. Keywords being proportional and opera. In my quest to keep the conversation following I asked the major ice-breaker questions, but did I ever open a can worms with what music do you like. Opera came out. I hate the opera. Something about singing in a foreign language just doesn't make sense to me and no you can't understand what is happening by the acting. Obviously, I know the plot, two people fall in love one dies. Its universal, universally boring that is. After explaining I was not an opera fan she proceeded to talk incessantly about opera for the next 45 minutes. Imagine diarrhea, now imagine diarrhea coming out of one's mouth, got that image, this was worse. She even had the audacity to order another tea that comes is mug big enough for Mary-Kate to bath in. I continued to be polite, but when she pulled out the schedule for the Met and suggested ones she believed I would like my patience began to wear. They snapped when she invited me to a performance at a later date. I unfortunately had dinner plans with my aunt's cat that I couldn't break. I thought I heard the last of her until I got IMs from operagirl, then musicdiva11, then operadiva. She is to this day the only person on my IM block list.
Date 2 was my fault. I was warned ahead of time that she may not have the body type I'm usually attracted to by a male friend and then by her the night before we were to meet. When she referred to herself as voluptuous I knew I may be in trouble, but only an jerk would break the date after hearing about said date's ample posterior. An asshole on the other hand satirizes the events of the date on a weblog. She was wearing a track jacket in her picture, I was seduced by the hipster chic and had never been on a date with someone from Brooklyn. We went for drinks and appetizers to Mica Bar on East 51st. She sucked down 2 specialty cocktails in a hurry and followed that up with a quesadilla eating demonstration. Fully satiated, she turned her attention back towards me, causing me to ponder the pros and cons of ordering more food. Pro she goes back to eating, mouth and tongue are monopolized tragically preventing her from speaking. Con, I was getting the bill. We talked. An hour and a half later I was getting tired and had a full day of sleeping late before going to work in pajamas downstairs in my living room. So we walked to 2nd Avenue so I coud hail a cab, indeed a true gentleman. Maybe I was exuding asshole pheromones that you women find so attractive, but she asked if she could come back to my place. Not one for one night stands ever and clearly not ready to set a precedent I informed her that unfortunately my cousin from Idaho was staying over.
AristocraCity firmly believes misery loves company so post your jdate nightmares as a comment to this blog.
posted by AristocraCity at 1:09 AM
1 Comments:
well I never J-dated but a friend of mine once fixed me up with someone she met on J-date. She was living in Boston and the guy was in Philly (where I was) so it made more sense. When I met him at a bar downtown, I quickly realized that he was a law student that was sort of infamous amoung my group of friends for pretty much hitting on any Jewish undergrad with a pulse. Needlesstosay the date went poorly (I wanted to take the bus home but he insisted on putting me in a cab and then didn't offer to pay for it) and I never saw him again. A few months later a girl I was friendly with told me she was taking him to her sorority formal. I said (like a complete moron), "isn't that that guy who tries to hook up with every Jewish girl with a pulse?" She looked at me blankly. They had been seeing each other seriously for 3 months.
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