I write a post about a great second date everyone is so supportive and nice. I got so many comments from you all saying how excited for me you were!
There were lovely tweets.
@NewYorkCliche so excited for you!!
— Zoë Gulliksen (@bookishbelle) April 10, 2015
There were giddy Facebook comments.
There were the sweetest blog comments.
They were all amazing. Thank you guys so much.
For every comment and tweet, message and “Like” I received for my recent blog post A Tall, Dark, and Handsome Second Date, I felt a twinge of guilt.
I wanted to reply to each one immediately NO! Don’t get excited for me! Please! Stop! It’s not worth it! I know because I lived it! I was taking you all for a ride. Just like my date had taken me for a ride. But that’s what my blog is, I suppose. My life in NYC with you along for the ride.
I got excited about a boy after a great second date. You got excited right along with me.
Unfortunately the truth is after that great second date, I never saw him again.
I know, it was pretty disappointing for me, too.
I’m sorry I have to share that with you, take you for a ride that just ends abruptly, in didn’t-see-it-coming disappointment! Ugh. I hate disappointing people! I’m sorry! I wish he had asked me out again! I wish I was still seeing him! I wish he was the love of my life!
Except he was a dude who just wanted to get in my pants. What a lame cliché.
I wish this story had a happy ending.
I almost wish I could make one up, at least give it an interesting ending. Nope. I’ve gotta be honest.
Years ago, my cousin gave me some dating advice. I’ve never forgotten it:
“Never date anyone who is too rich, too good-looking, or knows all the right things to say.
If they are rich, they believe money will buy anything. Including you. If they are good-looking, they know good and well there’s another woman waiting right around the corner. And if they know all the right things to say, you can be damned sure they’ve been practicing them somewhere long before they met you.”
I wouldn’t say my tall, dark, and handsome date was too good-looking. He was quite attractive but no one was scouting him for magazine covers or underwear ads. His shoes weren’t nice enough for him too have been too rich. But he definitely knew all the right things to say.
While on our second date he mentioned making plans for the weekend. That’s just the right thing to say, what every girl wants to hear, right? Well I didn’t hear anything from him until Sunday afternoon when he texted me, asking me if I wanted to come over to his apartment.
That was it, the opportunity for a Latin lover dangling right in front of my nose.
Well, it turns out I don’t want a Latin lover.
I want a boyfriend.
There, there! I fucking wrote it for all the world wide web to see! I WANT A BOYFRIEND.
I’ve enjoyed my casual dating and “seeing where things go” and la la la the hint of anything serious freaks me out! Really, I have. But right now….I….I…want something more serious. Do you understand how hard that is for a New York Cliché to admit? It’s a pain like unto the screeching of a thousand subway brakes!
But there it is. It’s what I want. I don’t want booty calls on Sunday afternoons! (This is the second time with that! Does something about me scream “wants booty on Sunday afternoons”??) I want a boyfriend. And thus-