Sunday, September 23, 2007

Boy 3:2

My CL posting was flagged and removed after it had been up for about 10 minutes. WTF? Apparently someone took issue with my assessment of the CL dating scene. Kind of disappointing. But then again, I promised myself to stop posting for a while, especially because no matter what I post, I seem to get the same kinds of responses from the same people. Maybe if I let it cool off for a while, I can return to a new set of onlookers.

Last night I went out for a second date with my third CL date since coming to The NY. I was surprised I even went on a first date with this guy, as he ignored my age requirement, and from his photos he looked too clean cut for me, and a little innocent/naive. But his emails to me seemed sincere, and although I do go for the edgy/moody/cynical boys, every time I meet a guy in a tee-shirt and sneakers with a little-boy smile, I think of my first love (who, incidentally, got married a few weeks ago). But I felt like Boy had some kind of personality, and I don't like to rule anyone out because of age. I went out with a 36-year-old guy earlier in the week, and while I didn't feel anything for him, it was a fun time and he was a good tour guide.

Our first date was nothing spectacular, but I found him fun to talk to, and we argued about monogamy, which is one of my favorite topics of conversation. He was intrigued by the variety of drugs I've consumed in my life, and because I was drunk by the time we got to this subject, I got on my professorial horse and gave him a run-down of why I've pretty much stopped smoking pot, why I prefer acid to mushrooms, and why I will continue to do cocaine liberally even though I don't understand what it does to me. Much like cigarettes, I just have to do more and more coke if it's available, without deriving much pleasure from it.

At the end of our first date, I felt like Boy was entertained by me, but I couldn't tell if that's just because I had been entertaining myself all evening with my comparatively risque lifestyle, sounding much more hard than I actually am, and when I told him to call me as we parted ways, I wasn't actually sure if I meant it. I typically like guys who seem a lot more experienced than me. But I liked the fact that he argued with me, and voiced differing opinions, because a lot of guys think that any kind of disagreement will endanger their chances of sleeping with you.

So we met up in Union Square Park early yesterday evening without any plans other than to perambulate for a bit, probably eat some food, and then part ways around 10 p.m. so I could attend a get-together at a classmate's apartment on the Upper West Side, and he could do whatever it was he had planned for the evening. We ended up taking the Air Tram to Roosevelt Island, which was really fucken cool, and then going to a diner in the area.

I love diners, mostly because it's an excuse for me to get a burger and a fountain soda, and because my expectations are not too high. The Ritz Diner did not disappoint in that sense, with its harsh light and Whitney Houston stylings. At dinner I became very aware of the fact that I am not a sexy dinner companion, because I have a tendency to take huge bites, talk with my mouth full, and drop half my meal down my cleavage. Somehow we managed to talk about how our lives seem so unfocused and non-traditional compared with those of our families, and wondered if our parents ever had sex with anyone other than each other.

Boy brought up an interesting dilemma about dating, and the question of how do you know when to stop looking? He framed it like this: Let's say you have 100 candidates to hire for a position. You get to meet each one for 5 minutes, and at the end of 5 minutes, you give them a score, and you say yay or nay. You only get to say yay once, and if you say nay, you don't see that candidate ever again. So your issue is this: how do you make sure you get the person with the highest score? If you meet one person, and rate them a 79 and say nay, what if the remaining 99 candidates are all sub-45? What if you hold out until the 100th candidate in the hopes of finding a 100, only to find out you should have taken the 88? His answer was that you decide ahead of time to interview a set number (say, 20), score them each and pass on all of them. Then, you begin interviewing and the next highest score you get, you hire. So I guess it's like defining a median, and then going for the next up. Kind of makes sense to me.

Boy brought up that we seem to have a shared neurosis for punctuality, because I had told him (repeatedly, it seems) that nothing irks me more than waiting around for someone to show up, and he declared that he was completely obsessive about getting places on time, and that even as a little kid, he was completely crazed if he thought he was going to be late somewhere. Compulsive behavior weirds me out, and instead of indulging people's weird idiosyncrasies, I am always trying to help manage them, and I was going to suggest that to Boy that he not wear a watch, as painful as that may be, to try and wean himself off of this time fixation, something that I made myself do. Then I noticed he did not, in fact, wear a watch for exactly that reason, and this made me admire him.

We ended up going to a bar, where we continued our conversation about dating, what constitutes a relationship, love, blah blah blah. I liked talking to him about all these things. At one point several things he said kind of came together in my mind and formed the thought that although I felt we were very similar, our lifestyles and personalities were a little conflicting, and the reason why he was interested in me was because he thought I was kind of wild, and was looking to invite some excitement and reckless behavior into his life. This thought lingered with me and when he said something that I perceived as adding to it, I told him flat out that I was kind of past my partying days and if he was looking for someone to corrupt him, I did not want to be that girl. It felt good to say exactly what I thought, and just as good to feel like he was being completely honest in saying he wasn't looking for that, and he was sorry if he had made me feel like some kind of means to an end. It's so rare when you can talk to someone with so little miscommunication. I often feel misunderstood because I can lapse into vague statements and really inadequate phrasings, mostly because I don't know what I want to say, or I figure no one's really listening so it's not worth the effort of trying to be clear. But with Boy, I feel like we're really striving to make ourselves understood, and it's working, and it makes us both feel more competent and comfortable.

We ended up hanging out until almost 4 a.m. He came with me to my grad student party, and then we attempted to go to another party on the Lower East Side. Since it takes me forever to get home, I crashed out at around five this morning and barely got up in time to get back down to the Village in time for a one o'clock brunch with my cousin.

I have to admit that I thought of Boy much during brunch, and wondered how long it will take him to call me again.

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