I'll be honest and say I did not have the best dating luck during my few short months living in Atlanta. Apparently, cooking healthy and elaborate dinners at home, going for runs during the midday, and going home every other week are not the best way to meet guys. Who knew? Although an orthodontia student with no dance skills and even less game once told me I was beautiful, so we'll put that in the "win" pile. Anyways, upon moving to New York, I vowed, New City: New Man. Seems like a simple enough mantra. There are millions of guys in this city. Millions. And I'm awesome. So what could possibly go wrong?
 |
| A sneak peak of my Match profile |
It starts off like an explosion. Lots of likes, winks, personal messages, page views. I almost order all new hats... but then I take a closer look at who is providing all of this attention. Let me be honest, a lot of weirdos. I spent a good long while just sorting passed guys that were 19 or 40, guys that lived in New Jersey, guys that listed "World of Warcraft" under interests, guys who considered themselves atheists, and so on. That left me with a much smaller pool to work with. Blerg.
No worries. I pressed onward towards true love. I responded to a few guys via the Match.com personal messaging system to see if there were any sparks. After some vetting I took two conversations "off line." I met Tim (he called himself Timmy, but since he was 25, I refused to indulge him in the nickname). He picked me up from work and then asked where we should go. I thought to myself, "So you invite me out for drinks with absolutely no plan. Good God." So we wander into a nearby bar. I order wine and he orders beer. We both get carded. Come on, I think, but then I think a little more, and boy does he look young. We get to talking, and the conversation is fine. I learn he is close with his family. Like super close. Like still lives at home, has no plans or desire to move out, and hopes to settle in Connecticut forever. Hmm, considering I just moved half way across the country to live in a giant bustling city, this guy and I may have different ideas for the future. I escape after one drink with a forced hug and an awkward kiss on the cheek. Okay, so first "frog" of NYC - check.
Don't worry, I had another Match.com date days later. And it went much better. We talked for hours over coffee (hot chocolate for me, actually) and agreed to see each other again. We had great conversations and enjoyed each other's company. We even went out on Valentine's Day. I think we went out a total of seven times, but I kept anticipating a "click" that never happened. We made sense on paper and didn't not like each other. My sister might have told you I ended it because he was "too nice" for me. I would argue it was because we didn't quite click. But the truth may actually be that I couldn't be with a guy that tried to order a veggie burger. How completely offensive!
Since cooling on Match.com, there was a bit of a lull in my dating life. That all changed one afternoon in a taxi. It was summer in the city, also known as boiling hot. I jumped in a cab on my way across town. The windows were all down but the traffic was so slow there was no breeze to be felt. Moments later the driver rolled up the windows and blasted the AC. What a welcome relief! Then he explained himself. "I turned on the AC because I want you to be cool, but also because you smell so nice I wanted to roll the windows up." ... And that's when I decided to join Hinge.
