Monday, June 15, 2009

All The Single Ladies: Part Deux

Being a single 20-something in NYC can be really fun. All the women who are independent, throw your hands up at me! I feel young, invincible and free! I excitedly get ready to go out, ( mid-90's dance music blasting in the background). As I apply my makeup, I wonder where the night might take me. (Placing aside, the obvious value and blessing of having great, fun friends who I love to spend time with), the possibilities of the night that lies ahead seem truly endless. Who will I meet? Every bar I step into holds the promise of my future boyfriends and husband. And if not, no worries--there is always next weekend. No strings, no ties to hold this girl down! Hypothetically speaking, if I wanted to make out with my next door neighbor in our elevator, fine! (Making every sober encounter for the next six months extremely uncomfortable, fine!) I dare you to stop me.

And then there are the other times...the times that being a single 20-something in NYC can be really confusing, irritating and well... frustrating as fuck. Case and point. You DO meet someone. You hit it off. Numbers are exchanged, (you pick out future names for your children)...And, then you wait. And wait. And fucking wait some more. Sure, I could text or call him first, but if I do that, I can pretty much be guaranteed that I will never hear from him again--and be pegged as crazy. (Who me?) So, instead I wait some more. And as luck would have it...I do hear from him! The waiting game is over. I hear from him at 2:47 am, 3:13 am, and 3:36 am. Hmm. That's so interesting! I wonder why he's texting me at these times? (An aside: I think we are all guilty of booty-texting, but at least I know that I feel some remorse after soberly assessing the damage the following morning).

What has dating in NY (and maybe all major cities) come to? Meeting someone drunk in a bar, exchanging some form of bodily fluid, (the type of bodily fluid, I will leave up to you), and then praying that the person speaks to you again!? This can't be normal. And yet, somehow it is. I recently met someone out at night, and was shocked to receive an actual phone call from that guy. Not a text message, face-book message, e-mail, BBM, or smoke signal, but just an old fashioned telephone call. My phone rang, and conversation was exchanged through real words and voices. NOT through my text messaging personality. (Which I think has become quite witty). After hanging up the phone, I realized that I could not remember the last time a boy (that wasn't my dad, brother or platonic friend) CALLED me, on the actual telephone.

Remember when people had phone/address books? Friends phone numbers were written inside. And, in middle school the addition of your own private line was added under your name in the phone book? Remember when there were ONLY land lines, (and they weren't called land lines back then). And if you were REALLY lucky, your family may have also had a car phone too! I can't imagine what dating was like during that time. Did you booty call someone and have it wake up an entire household? I think not. Will the invention of cell phones, and other technological means mark the beginning of the end for chivalry? Only time will tell...

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