Saturday, January 19, 2013

The glass is half empty

My sister and I were looking through dating profiles recently. She kept piping in with mostly positive comments: "He sounds really thoughtful!" or "He's artistic, that's good for you." Then, invariably, we'd get to the bottom of the profile and she'd express the same frustration I've felt many times when checking what age the bachelor in question is interested in dating: "Ugh. Another one who only wants younger women." So many men end their age ranges at their own age, or a year or two below. Why??! Are they  following what they perceive to be social norms without thinking about it, do they not want to date someone who's their equal, are they worried about the fertility of older women? In any case, it's offensive.

Finally, we found one whose age range was wider -- he wanted to date women up to age 45, a good 10 years older than he is! I pointed this out hopefully to my sister. She sighed and shook her head regretfully.

"I'm afraid that means he doesn't want children."

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Goodbye, Man-sprout

I was looking forward to my long-awaited date with Man-sprout, the man I went out with last April who then canceled our second date last-minute and recently charmed me into agreeing to go out with him again. It had been a looong week, one of the longest I can remember, filled with lots of tears over Big Guy's passing, some soul-searching over whether to take off work and go to his memorial, confusingly kind messages from La Moustache, a small car accident that led to missing an important work meeting... I *really* needed a cocktail.

Instead, I got one line:


I'm not going to be able to make it tomorrow. Something has come up. 


Wow. It's hard to know how to respond to this level of rudeness. I decided to just laugh about it and get a cocktail with Slinky instead -- exactly what I did the last time he canceled on me (and SO much more fun than going out with Man-sprout would have been).

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Big Guy

When I saw a message from my ex-boyfriend La Moustache in my inbox this afternoon, I knew that something terrible had happened. I thought first of his dad, or his mom. Maybe his uncle, who still sends me occasional sweet messages.

But instead it was our friend and former landlord in Brooklyn, Big Guy. I should have known: of COURSE a 34-year-old black man who lives in Bed-Stuy is at more risk than 60-something, white French people.

Big Guy was one of the kindest, most generous men I've known. He was always available and happy to help; even before I moved in he offered to drive over to my old house to pick me up so I could sign the lease. He brought me to work when the subway wasn't running, and loaned us his car when ours crumpled to its death one day on Atlantic Avenue. He'd try a taste of any food I offered him, but his favorite was my mom's apple cake recipe. I started baking one for him every fall because he loved it so much. He'd come in for a piece or two, then ask for one to take downstairs to his place so he "could really get into it." I pictured him diving face first into the apple cake, crumbs flying in every direction à la Cookie Monster.

He didn't deserve to be shot in the chest by a drunk man accosting a woman who Big Guy was attempting to protect. He certainly didn't deserve to have his arrest record published in the Daily News in an article about his murder -- how is it in any way relevant to what happened that he drove without a license a few times?? Needless to say, his three children don't deserve to grow up without a father.

I don't know anything about the man who shot him, except that it was his birthday and he was drunk. But I imagine that it's possible that when he woke up this morning, hung over and in jail, he regretted his terrible, impulsive action, whether it was for Big Guy's sake or just his own. I hope Obama is able to do something to make it harder to get guns so that a drunk guy doesn't have the option of pulling out a gun and shooting someone in the chest. It's just so... senseless.