New York City is a tough town.
It’s a fast-paced, glamorous playground of exciting nights and movie-worthy work days. Everyone has a game face and a guard up. The guppies and the sharks swim in the same expensive suits and 5 inch heels, and you can’t tell who’s who sometimes.
So whatcha gonna do, honey? Sink or swim? I’ll tell you what you CAN’T do: shrink…like a date I once had did…right before my eyes.
I met Daniel* through mutual friends at a casual cocktail party. We hit it off and made plans to have dinner soon after. A complete gentleman from the start, I loved how he opened doors and pulled out chairs. As the days passed, he displayed wit, charm, and an easy-going nature. What could go wrong, right? Watch.
I got to the restaurant a little early and sat at the bar, in full view of the door so I would see him before he saw me. A text came in as I ordered a glass of merlot, “Running about 10 minutes late – sorry”. Okay, not a great start, but not a big deal…till 10 minutes turned into 45…and he arrived looking awkwardly rushed…and sweaty. I accepted his apologies and shook it off. As he settled in, I ordered my second glass of red and we began dinner. After a terse truffle oil conversation with our server, I couldn’t wait for the wine to hit him so he’d loosen up. Where was the charmer from the night we met? The witty repartee from texts and tweets? Soon enough, the conversation was flowing and the food was good. It was an average night, not amazing but not a bad time either. Besides, first dates can be awkward…or so I’ve heard…but something wasn’t right.
After dinner, we went for a stroll in the warm spring air towards a nightcap. As he talked, suddenly, he hit his stride. There was the man I met! As we reached 34th Street, I offered two bar options: 1) a place that’s more of a sports bar/Irish pub or 2) a hipper vibe sports bar that also plays music, BUT one where we might see people I know. Was he okay with meeting people? Without skipping a beat, he said meeting folks was fine. No fear – alright! Off we went.
We were seated all of 5 minutes with our drinks when I saw a friend of mine walk in and head towards the bar. I leaned across and said “well, I guess you WILL meet someone, my friend Felix** just walked in.” Felix and I saw each other and I waved hello and motioned him over. The men shook hands as I introduced them, exchanged man-greetings (a mix of grunts, mumbles and “whats up?”) and I greeted Felix with a hug and peck on the cheek. Then…from the corner of my eye…I see it happen.
A few fast pleasantries between us and Felix is about to head back to his stool. Now, I already know I’ll be teased about this “found you on a date” moment later, but as he smugly says “my favorite bartender is on – let me know if you need anything”, I can tell he saw it too. Saw what? The shrink. That’s what. My date was visibly smaller in his chair as Felix headed back to the bar, and we resumed conversation.
Now, let’s be clear. My date was tall, handsome and smart with all the right qualifications. Felix simply walked up, said hello, made a snide remark like I’d do to him and a date an attentive offer, and went about his beer pong game business. Thing is though, Felix is tall, handsome and smart too, with qualifications that don’t slack anywhere either – every bit my type as much as my date was. But all he said was “hello”! Since when is “hello” intimidating?!
I can’t tell you what a turn-off that was, to see my date’s insecurities brought out by someone he doesn’t even know. His remarks were no longer funny, his stories no longer interesting. I was checked out. I struggled through a second round and let him see me safely to cab home.
“Sure! Set up golf! That sounds like fun! Thanks for a great night!” ::cab door slam::
“Driver, go north two blocks, east two blocks, and loop back around and drop me back here in front of the bar.” My cabbie cracked up. “Ohhh, you ditch date? Is happen all the time. No problem little lady!” I even made it back in time for the end of the beer pong tourney fascinating political discussions! Yay!
Daniel and I didn’t speak again. I think he knew he was outgunned. What he didn’t seem to realize was that he shot himself. What woman wants to be on the arm of a jellyfish? Imagine how different his night might’ve ended had he traded some anecdotes with his perceived competition, invited him back to the bar for a shot, or even just brushed my hand in some signaling way that said “I’m here…and this is MY date…respect me”. But no. I don’t think he even mustered up the “nice meeting you” as Felix headed back to the bar. ::shoulder shrug::
There’s no shortage of tall, handsome men in Manhattan. Some I know; some I don’t. But you have to be YOU regardless – confidence can make or break you, especially in dating. I walk tall in this town; the man at my side has to as well. In a city of sharks, this “little lady” is no guppie.
*name changed to protect the lame innocent
**name changed to protect the smug not-so-innocent
Avenue 1′s Eva is a writer at www.evasaidit.com
Photos courtesy of C.Holliday
