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He’s a native New Yorker, believe it or not, and his suit jacket tells me he probably works in finance (this assumption proves to be correct). ” The biggest epiphany I’m having is that I’m incredibly bad at marketing myself in this setting.
The music seems to have calmed down a bit, which I later discover is because Girl in Charge asked the venue owners to please lower the volume because there is a serious event happening. I tell him I haven’t met anyone I really jive with, and his natural follow-up question is, “Well, what are you looking for? Put me in a job interview and I’ll dazzle you with the hard skills on my resume, but ask me about my hobbies and the best thing I can squeak out is, “I really love to eat! Date Five wears a puffer vest and loves that I’m a writer.
I am a sophisticated Single Professional, and I intend to get my money’s worth.
I show up to the Muses 35 karaoke bar in Midtown Manhattan on a Friday night, dressed in a gray sweater tucked into a dark skirt with riding boots.
“Well, that’s a first,” he responds (for the record, I stand by this choice — it’s a quality film about familial loyalty and I refused to be convinced otherwise).
By Date Six, I’m most of the way through my house wine and have almost no voice left.
I’m talking a lot, but truthfully I’m quite ready to be done with this and retreat back to my phone screen, where I can swipe away in silence without having to invent lame hobbies for myself. Exhausted, I start venting to my roommate the moment I walk through the door.
You’d think I’d have it figured out by now, but the truth is that I have a horrible track record in practice. In theory, it’s an ideal format for busy people: seven dates, five minutes each, two hours of my night, max.
Apps are exhausting, life is hectic, and I can never seem to attract the type of men I want to meet. As it turns out, speed dating is a bit like the old-school version of dating apps.
Now it's 10 seconds into Date One and I fear this was a terrible mistake. He looks at me expectantly as I clutch my house white wine and take a sip.“I really love to... I’ve developed a habit of reporting on dating culture — the good, the bad, and the ugly of trying to navigate love in your 20s.
I showed up here with big expectations, curious about what speed dating is really like and hopeful I might at least meet someone intriguing. I enjoy that, too, sometimes.”I came here tonight with the hopes of meeting my next boyfriend. In truth, I came here hoping for a funny story, something I could joke about with my friends as I recalled the things I do to try to salvage my struggling love life.
As I tell her about it, I start to realize how ridiculous I must have sounded the entire evening. I confess that I showed up thinking my dates would be the story, but the real narrative was my realization of how exceptionally uninteresting I must have sounded to these guys.