This Heel fell Flat

On Easter Sunday, I went to brunch with a good friend. We were chatting and ended up on the topic of online dating.

She told me a horror story that her roommate recently experienced:
She had met a guy online. They went on a few great dates. She told her girlfriends how much she liked this guy. His internet handle is "YouCanWearHeels"...Not 1 but 2 of her girlfriends had been out with him and warned her of his d-bag ways. She insisted that he wasn't like that....He ended up being a total player and screwed her over in the end.

I went home and looked up this dude on my online dating account. He looked decent, very tall, but there are clear signs that this dude is a jerk based on his profile. I logged off and didn't think any more about it.



Today I get a message from YouCanWearHeels - less than 24 hours after our conversation!

The message read:

Did you not get the memo?! Nice Jewish girls have to say hi if they're going to view my profile. let me know when you wanna chat.

My reply:

Hi there,
Actually, I haven't gotten that memo. But I did get the one about not going out with d-bags. Since you have a reputation as an online serial dating loser, you should probably consider changing your avatar.
TTYN
PS - I'd rather wear flats.

Don't cry over spilled beer...

In 2009, I was going out with a really interesting guy. He lives in a penthouse apartment in a walk-up on the Upper East Side. He works for the government for an agency similar to the secret service. Cute, Smart, Funny. (Check, check, and check). He took me on 4 great dates (and he picked me up in his BMW convertible for a few of them). On our 5th date, we met at his penthouse so I could see his digs before heading to a bar in his neighborhood. A roof deck, beautiful French doors to each of the 3 bedrooms (he has 2 roommates), a gigantic kitchen, beautiful exposed brick walls, 2 fireplaces...I was thoroughly impressed with his pad - not bad for a 30 year old.

At the bar we ordered drinks and found a cozy table out of the way. I mentioned that I saw his name on a lot of the boxes in the kitchen and asked whether or not he was into cooking. He immediately pulled back from me and averted my gaze. His posture changed and his eyes became glassy.



Oh no... what did I say wrong!? Did he think I was prying? Was my question out of line? Was he turned off by the fact I spilled some of my beer onto the table?

After a long and very awkward moment of silence, he explained that he was recently divorced. Most of those boxes were filled with gifts from his wedding or things he and his ex-wife had accumulated throughout their marriage. I was shocked - I felt deceived. This was heavy stuff here! I told him that I needed a moment to absorb this new information.

Instead of changing the subject or asking me about how I felt, he decided to give me a play-by-play of his marriage and its demise. He told me about his ex-wife and how they had been married for 7 years. He talked about how they met, where they got married, how he still thought about her and wondered where she was now. He explained that he doesn't know why it didn't work out... I sat there and downed a few beers. I felt like a psycho-therapist. I knew there was absolutely no way I would go out with this guy again but I stayed and listened to his stories.

After an hour or so, I told him I was ready to head home. He insisted on walking me to my door and I caved in and let him. We got to my door and he kissed me but then he pulled away. His eyes clouded up again. He excused himself.

I never heard from him again but I hope he found a good therapist.

26

This past weekend was my 26th Birthday. I had a great time at a bar on the Lower East Side with my friends (the Skinny). I drank my fair share of alcohol and had a great time.



2 days later after a delicious birthday dinner with my parents, I was cleaning my apartment and clumsily dropped a box on my foot. My toe was bleeding profusely. (It took me about 10 minutes to realize that I'd tracked blood all over my apartment). I wrapped it and elevated it. I took 2 Tylenol and iced it. I bled through about 10 band-aids. I put a few cotton balls and band-aids on it and went to sleep. In the morning, it still hadn't healed... I knew I needed stitches so I forced myself to head to the ER to be patched up. Luckily it went very quickly and I had an adorable doctor. When he put my foot in the boot, I told him I felt just like Cinderella...




Dr. McDreamy blushed and told me my boot is very in this season. I giggled. He winked at me, wished me luck, and left.

...I'm a year older but I've still got it.

The Three Hour Tour

The infamous "boat guy"....

In 2008, I met a guy online. We went on a bunch of dates and they were all great. He's a guidance counselor with a great sense of humor. It was date number 5 and I thought things were going well - could this be my next boyfriend?

I had just returned from a cruise with my girlfriends and "boat guy" called to ask me out on a dinner cruise around Manhattan. How romantic!

I pictured something like this:



I met him at Chelsea Piers just in time for us to board the boat. I was dressed up and ready for a nice evening. I see him waiting for me and rush over to him (we had 5 minutes until the boat was set to take off). He told me to wait right there while he checked us in for our dinner. What a gentleman!

We rushed up the platform to board the boat just as they were pulling the ropes away. Thank goodness we made it! Then "boat guy" turns around, slaps a name tag on me and says "just wear this" and he winks. I figured it was for our reservation...a little odd but not totally strange. The woman greeting passengers upon entry smiles at me. I smile back. She extends her hand and says "Welcome Leila"....I'M NOT LEILA. I look down at the name tag which reads "Leila Bagash." I turn to "boat guy" and he takes me by the hand and leads me to a table. I didn't have time to get a word in.

There are 8 other people at this table all wearing name tags and under each name is their place of work. Each person either works at a school or at a financial organization. I look at mine (Crap! Why does Leila have to work in finance?). People are engaging in conversation about finance and education - all very interesting but my heart was pounding. Someone here has to know Leila. Someone is going to look at me and say "You're not Leila." Leila's boss could be one table away! I stayed very quiet at the table and sipped my wine while "boat guy" chugged a few gin and tonics and made frequent trips to the bar.



A presentation was made about education and finance and how they connect. It was interesting. I was furious. After 3 trips to the ladies room, a long walk around the exterior of the boat, and a short stop at the dance floor to watch a sweet older couple, I headed back to my...scratch that Leila's table. There was my date, drunk as a skunk and not looking happy.



He took me to the top deck of the boat. I followed. Partly because I was happy to escape the table for a moment and partly because I was ready to have some strong words with my date. He proceeded to drunkenly yell at me about being quiet and ungrateful. How dare I not appreciate his efforts. I contemplated jumping ship but the water looked cold and I happened to really like my outfit (I was wearing my very favorite pair of heels... worth a thought but not going to happen). I remained polite and quiet.



We disembarked the boat. I tried to talk to him but he refused. He grabbed me and pulled me toward him and kissed me like you'd kiss your grandmother. He stormed off and so did I... unfortunately we were headed in the same direction. We sent glares at each other from opposite sides of the street until we both headed down into the subway in opposite directions.

I got a call from him later that night - he wanted to let me know that "it just wasn't working out between us"....THANK YOU CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!


(That's Captain Obvious...in case you were wondering...)


I still hear from "boat guy" from time to time. Last Halloween he texted me to let me know that I would look good in a "sexy mermaid" costume...



No thanks.

Send in the Clowns

In the spring of 2008 I went on a date with a guy I met online. He was smart, had a great job, and was very sweet. We met in person at a wine bar by my place of work and grabbed seats right by the window. It was a quiet place - very romantic.

Things were off to a great start. He asked me what I liked to do outside of work. How thoughtful! I told him how I play in orchestras. I asked him the same... that's when things went south.

He told me that he's a clown. Not like a class clown. A juggling, chuckling brightly colored outfit wearing, red nosed sporting clown. He told me about Clown Camp - a program where he teaches young children how to become clowns. I thought to myself - alright, that's not so horrible...he likes kids and he's trying to be funny. But then he juggled at our candle-lit quiet table topped with really expensive wine and delicious crostini. I giggled nervously and he took that as an invitation to perform a "Clown Cheer." Although I don't remember exactly how that cheer went, I know that it was loud and long. I was startled to say the least. He told me he went by "BoBo" and that he knew three other cheers that he could show me sometime. I thought to myself - well this is certainly not how I saw this date going. What started out as a somewhat understandable and sort of likable hobby turned out to be a date disruption disaster.

At that point, I looked around and everyone was staring. People looking in the window of the bar were snickering as they walked by. To make matters worse, the waitstaff was standing in the corner pointing and laughing. Our waiter came over to fill my wine glass. Not only did he top me off, but also he whispered in my ear "you need this, honey." And I did.

I like to think of myself as an open-minded person. I'm a musician and I can appreciate a person's need to have an artistic outlet but I have to draw the line somewhere....I think my line is at the circus.

Update: Bobo is now living in San Francisco with his fiance.

Plenty of Fish in the Sea...

I've tried my hand at online dating for quite some time but I have to say that PlentyOfFish was by far the creepiest site I've ever put a profile on. This was the only site where I have received inappropriate messages (sexually explicit). In the short time that I tried this site I received: a message from a 52 year old asking about something inappropriate (hello grandpa), messages from not one but two 19-year-olds that just read "hi" (is this a new dating thing that I'm too old for?), two messages that just asked if I wanted to have sex (NO WAY!!!!), messages from a few Jersey-Shore-esque 20-somethings that contained words like "yo" and "hit it" (ick!), and a few random messages from dudes in other states.

I did "meet" one guy who seemed alright - cute, good job, and a non-creepy profile. We chatted via the IM function available on the site. The conversation went well and we exchanged numbers. The next day he texted me to set up a date and we planned to meet for real on Sunday afternoon. Fast forward to Sunday. I went for a run at noon and came back to a text from said dude. Apparently, he'd partied pretty hard the night before and was too hung over to keep our date. He asked if we could reschedule for the next day. Negative. If a dude can't even keep a Sunday afternoon first date, then how is he going to make a good first impression on the second date? There was already a cloud of negativity forming - He's not a guy I want to be in a relationship with.

While I'm sure there are many people who have success with PlentyOfFish, this is just not for me. Not only was the site itself difficult to navigate, but also the profiles were not easy to read and there was not much information about potential matches. I think this is probably the appropriate site for people who are not looking for a relationship.

On the plus side, this entire experience was free and I didn't waste much of my time.