New York City. A city with a population of about 20 million. It can be a very lonely place. I’ve been single and dating in New York for most of my life, with the exception of some boyfriends and husbands along the way. And I’ve got a lot of stories about it. Wanna hear some?
Well, ever since my divorce, I’ve been dating excessively. Even before then, I went through guys like water. But it’s primarily after the husband and boyfriend-after- the-husband that have been most amusing. The husband thing is a book in itself. It was pretty traumatic and not so amusing. I may get into the amusing aspects of it though. Guess you can find a little humor in even the worst situations. You can even find depressing parts of humorous situations. Which is why I’m writing this, I guess. So, yeah, I guess you’ll be reading about both.
I’d read a book that recommended treating finding a man to marry after 35 like a job. So I tried it and went online, got referrals from friends and co-workers…. Left no stone unturned. I ended up with so many dating stories. So much that co-workers would gather around my desk on Monday mornings wanting to hear the scoop of the weekend. What happened on the date THIS time? They would sit riveted by my stories. My married sister and close friends would do the same and sit and laugh hysterically and the turn of events. They couldn’t believe this stuff was really happening. But had to believe it because who could make this shit up! People would compare it to Seinfeld episodes or Sex and the City characters. Some of the same business, but way funnier.
On Saturday mornings, I my sister and I would always go to my Mom’s house in Long Island. My sister, Mom, my nephews and I would sit around the kitchen table for hours, laughing and talking about the dates, phone calls, encounters had during the week. We’d dissect every line, every body movement to analyze the minds of these creatures. Mom would cut out “Cathy” strips and Dear Abby letters that were apropos to the most recent situation. But I would never post on a corkboard, because that would be… well… pathetic.
This turned out to be great fun. So, when I’d get an offer for a blind date or invitation to a singles event, I’d go. Why? Because even if I didn’t have a good time on the date, I’d have a good story to tell on Monday. And that became my rationale for dating. I became aware that the more people I met, the more interesting my life became. The more I learned about people, and dating. Actually, the worse the date, the better the story. I never really considered myself a great conversationalist, but now, I always have an amusing anecdote for parties.
Since people thought these stories were so funny, my sister kept telling me to write them down for a blog, a book or a sit com or something. So, this blog doesn’t mean anything. This is not a self-help blog. I am not an expert. I suppose I should say, “do not attempt this at home.” It’s just for fun. I’m not married and do not have a boyfriend. I don’t even have a date lined up for Saturday night. Mind you, it’s only Monday, and a lot could happen by the weekend (they say positive thinking is good).
So, that’s all it is. An anecdotal compellation of dating mishaps. For me, looking at it this way makes it not so pathetic and is empowering in a way. Sex and the City did a similar thing on this topic. The ladies were at a party and Miranda was joking about the fact that she was single. They decided it was to cover up her insecurities about being single. That may be what this is. Who the fuck cares. If it cracks you up it’s all good. Because, really, things are going to happen the way they’re going to happen anyway and you can’t do anything about it. You can put yourself out there, but after that, it’s all fate. So, don’t fight it. Go with it. Enjoy it. Next thing you know you could “click” and then all the fun‘ll be over.
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