Monday, June 22, 2009

Dating Retox

After a detox some might say you shouldn't try and retox yourself in a single night. Eh, but have I ever been good at doing things in moderation? I was eager for my detoxed self to get back on the market.

The most refreshing tip Patti Stanger gave in step 3 is not to follow the old ‘you should be open to going out with anyone because you never know’ adage. She insists you shouldn’t waste your time or his. If he doesn’t do it for you from the start then he never will. The date I had lined up for Thursday night seemed to meet all my criteria: over 5’2”, employed, educated and bonus - he was cute!

We had the obligatory pre-date phone chat and he came across like a pretty interesting fellow. When he suggested a date, time and a restaurant I should have known this guy was too good to be true.

During our conversation I learned that his social life revolved around the NYC model scene. Crap! What was I going to wear? The search for a fashionable frock lead me to one of my go-to/cut-down-to-my-naval dresses that always seems to be a date pleaser. Next question: to Squeem? Or not to Squeem? Faced with this dilemma I did what ever ex-sorority girl does, poured myself a glass of wine and followed Robert's Rules of Order.

Pro:
Looking like I have a 24 inch waist
Con: Compression Sweating + Nervous Sweating = Bad News
Con: If things get flirty, how do you explain the non-medical back brace you are wearing?
Pro: Looking like I have a 24 inch waist

*Point of information
– the evening is going to include solid food not just liquids.

The Squeem stayed home. We meet at TAO and after a little schmoozing with the Maître d' we were seated right away. The waiter came over before I had a chance to open the menu but my date spoke right up, “Yes, we’d like 2 of these cocktails, Pellegrino water, an assortment of appetizers along with the fish and chicken entrées.” Being out with someone who had such command over the dinner table threw me a little off my game. The last time someone ordered for me I was still in diapers.

As dish after dish and drink after drink were brought to the table I was reassured that leaving the Squeem at home was the right choice. By the time the entrées were served it was clear this fellow was very fancy. He sent back the drinks that were not to his liking, pointed out where he would have preferred to sit and shared that he owned several condos in the city but preferred the one on Park Avenue.

Towards the end of the meal the restaurant started to clear out and I could finally hear what this guy was saying. Up to this point in the evening I just did a lot of smiling and nodding. Perhaps he had only been around agreeable republicans, but as the waiter cleared our plates he came right out and told me that I gave off a very conservative vibe. Seriously? I’ve been called a lot of things but never conservative. And since when do conservative girls wear dresses cut down to their navals?

Despite being a very charismatic and charming by the end of dinner I knew this dude wasn’t for me, maybe it was his judgment on what causes baldness[1]. However, I was curious as to how the night would end up. As we left the restaurant he asked if I would mind stopping by his apartment so he could set his TiVo for the basketball game since he had some $$$$ riding on it. [2]

We get to his building and head up to the penthouse, that’s right - the penthouse! As we rode the elevator I laughed to myself as I recalled telling a coworker earlier in the week that I just wanted to date a guy that had cable. After receiving the grand tour I made some sarcastic comment about the hospital corners on his bed, which he credited the housekeeper for of course.

I stuck around for awhile before thanking him for dinner and heading out. He walked me to the elevator and gossiped about his famous neighbors. The elevator came, we said goodbye, there was kiss on the cheek and he reached out his hand, which I shook, and the night ended with -

"Um, ok? I was just reaching for the elevator, I wasn't going to shake your hand."

Cringe! Of course he was, who shakes hands at the end of a date? ....apparently the detox also got rid of all my remaining social skills - geesh!

As the cab pulled away from the Park Avenue penthouse and headed south toward my East Village fourth floor walk up I could help but think Patti would be proud.

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[1] This guy reasoned that he shaved his head because he was was a neat freak. I'd say he had no hair because of male pattern baldness.

[2] I know….I know….He could have just said, “Want to go back to my place and watch Boiler Room?” and I should not be going back to the apartment of an almost stranger. I’ve quoted Oprah more then once about how you should never go to a second location but I was curious.


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