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After being an asshole to The Ex Fiancé (re: essentially called his new boyfriend an idiot), I knew I had to try to make it up to him. I waited a week after our run-in at Therapy before asking him out for dinner and drinks: to my surprise, he accepted without persuasion. I felt like Elizabeth Bennet, trying to make amends for all of the awful things she said to Darcy. We met at the...
When I met R, I knew we were perfect for each other. I loved his sassy sense of humor, I loved his curly dark mop of hair, I loved that he only came up to my nose at 5’5”. The first time we hung out we laughed, we flirted, he even took my hand when we walked down the street. Unfortunately, R made it clear from the beginning that he was not looking for a...
While eating lunch at Cafeteria, a very cute boy was seated next to me. He said to me, “Hey. You’re adorable.” Just as simple as that. We ended up eating together and set an actual date for that Thursday evening. I already had plans earlier that day with my friend J. I always have fun with J—to be honest, a little too much fun. J and I always drink too much—rather, I always drink too...
One night, while fairly intoxicated at Pieces, I took out my phone and opened Grindr while my friends danced. I got a message from someone 280 feet away. He was handsome, 38 years old and also named Ian. We chatted, he sent me some pictures of his ripped chest and I asked if I could come over, finishing my Captain and Coke. “I don’t want you to come over just like that. I read your...
Last week, my good friend and photographer Roger Wingman invited me to his gallery opening at G-Lounge, Be Mine (running through March 1). When I matched with K on Tinder the following day, and he asked me out, it seemed like fate that we should go together. Previously, I had a terrible date at G-Lounge. After about fifteen minutes of conversation, he admitted to being fifteen years older than he’d told me, married to a...
Y was one of the first boys I dated in the city. I liked him well enough, I guess. He wasn’t particularly sweet, but he wasn’t an asshole either. I never exactly had fun with him, but I wasn’t having a negative experience. The sex wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad either. Listen, I’d only been in the city a few months, give me a break. After a particularly neutral date, Y came over to...
After my unfortunate run-in with The Ex Fiancé (summary: ran into him in sweaty neon gym clothes with inch-long dark brunette roots holding toilet bowl cleaner), I stalked him on Facebook for a few weeks, planning my next move. One night, while shoving my face with crab Rangoon, he updated his status: “Shopping with the boy for something to wear tonight to Therapy!” I leapt up, throwing away the rest of my orange chicken. I...
I met B at a party two years ago. B was very handsome: pale skin, soft brown hair and a chiseled jawline. All the boys at the party went gaga for him—so, naturally, I didn’t like him. He was taking attention away from me, and that wasn’t easy: I was wearing pleated wool mid-thigh shorts. Unfortunately, once I introduced myself, he was sweet, oozing Midwest charm. He made it impossible for me not to like...
When D messaged me on Grindr, I assumed he had to be a bot. D wasn’t just attractive, he was out of my league. He was 28 years old, a lawyer, and enjoyed creative people. That’s what his profile read, anyway. When I responded, “Hey, how’s it going?” and the response wasn’t, “That was fast!”, I held on to hope that he was real. After brief conversation, he asked me for a drink at Gym...
When going to an underwear party, the most important decision is, naturally: which pair of underwear do I wear? I wanted something slutty enough to say “Take me home” but not slutty enough to say, “Take me to the back room.” I selected a new pair of very thin briefs and a pair of knee-high American Apparel socks. I made the mistake of pregaming at home. A few rum and Cokes in, my logic wandered,...