Dating near me

06-Dec-2019 00:01

“Chee-man, I brought this for you, just in case you get lost in the city,” he said, whipping out a subway map from his battered briefcase. If was enough to get this man out of my hair forever, then it was a small price to pay.

I couldn’t believe it: He had me mistaken for some clueless British tourist! “Because if you are that way inclined, I personally think that’s great.” His timing was comedic for all the wrong reasons. Thinking back on that time more than a decade later, I find myself faced with a nagging question: If I could turn back the hands of time, would I wipe those ludicrous, frequently embarrassing misadventures from the record? If there is one thing I’ve learned in my search for love in New York, it’s that dating in the city means expecting the unexpected.

The flirty banter of this good-looking bouncer couldn’t have come at a more opportune time.

With his all-black uniform and dark sunglasses, Kenny had a brooding allure, something like Wesley Snipes in When Kenny showed up for our date the following Thursday in a saggy gray suit and tie, the overall impression was more secondhand car salesman than superhero.

I should have known the date was going to be a disaster when he suggested we meet in Midtown. In my mind, Kenny was no ordinary tall, dark, and handsome stranger; he was six-foot-six with rippling muscles for goodness’ sake!

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I don’t need a new energy provider, if that’s what this is about,” I said, doing my best to avoid eye contact. I’m just trying to make friends.” Kenny put his pie charts to one side and gave me a sheepish grin; the shoulders of his oversize suit jacket were drooping with embarrassment. “Listen Chee-man, it’s not that I don’t find you attractive,” he said, pausing to clear his throat. He also seemed emboldened to share all of his wildly inappropriate locker-room theories about European women.

Learning to speak the language was the easy part, a simple matter of trading in the slang of my homeland for shiny, new American colloquialisms: Instead of “snogging,” I was now “making out.” (To this day I am still a little confused about the parameters of intimacy around “hooking up.” Does it involve sex or not?