My Date with Hipster Glasses

While walking to the designated meeting place:

KG (my more sophisticated Baltimore friend): Heeeyyy! How are you?

Me: I need help.

KG: Okkk…

Me: I’m going on a date with hipster glasses and since we’re meeting there I have to walk into the bar and recognize him either when I walk in or when he walks in. I don’t even know if I remember what he looks like.

KG: Well he has Buddy Holly glasses you know that.

Me: KG I am in Greenwich Village, every guy looks like that.

KG: Oh. This it true.

Me: I am going to a wine bar. You know I don’t do wine. What should I order and not sound ridiculous?

After 20 minutes of reviewing my wine likes and dislikes and finally feeling comfortable with my decision, he commented that this bar’s wine sucks and ordered a vodka martini. That was bad sign #1.

The conversation began with him discussing how he was in various bands since he was in high school up until a few years ago, even playing at CBGB, and is just starting to get back into it and writing songs with hopes to record. I mentioned how cool it was that he played there since it is so legendary and he commented, “well no not really, at least not in the past few years. I actually like the store they have there now better, have you been there?” Me, “um, nooo.”

Then we discussed his job at MTV, which he hates because he contributes to “making people stupid”, and the options for his band name of which included “We Sell Balloons” and “Adjective None” or something like that which I believe is supposed to be some intellectual joke involving his French friend which I don’t really get. Then he asked me how I am creative/ my creative interests.

Well, I have none. So I said this in so few words and, for an attempt to sound charming, I said, “well I do have a great interest in music even though I don’t play it myself. So I do sing a lot, although you would never want to hear it!” Then I smiled a charming smile. Then he said, “well you never know you could keep working at it and…” OK, he is serious. So I said, “No really. I can’t sing.” Bad sign #2. Actually, I think we surpassed 2 at this point.

The night went on with me asking him questions because I lead a boring life and he does not. After making multiple jabs at Sarah Palin he told me he was voting for John. Although confused, I nodded. Then he looked me straight in the face and said, “I’m not really.” I laughed and said how that makes sense, he had me confused, guess I haven’t yet figured out his sarcasm. To which he said, “It wasn’t as much sarcasm as a lie.” Intellectual ass.

He grew up in the city and doesn’t understand the need for suburbs. I was born and raised in a suburb. He goes clubbing on Sundays, of which I have no interest in ever doing so. He defines his friend groups by “French friends”, “Spanish friends”, “Romanian friends” and “Gay friends”. I have college friends, high school friends and work friends. He likes the Rangers, I like the Blackhawks. He thinks the world is polluted and too much concern goes into things like “How I met your Mother.” I could rehash HIMYM’s Monday episode for you right now in this post. And I thought it was DE….LIGHTFUL. He goes out pretty much every night of the week. To this I eluded that he leads a pretty exciting/ fun life. His response? “I wouldn’t say that at all. I just think I pursue my interests.” Get me out of this date.

Long story short, it was not a horrible first date, but I definitely think I bored the hell out of him and he is not going to call. And I am completely fine with that. I actually think I would dread a second date as we clearly are not a good match.

Optimistic side of this? It was a learning experience.

1. I am not as scared of NYC dates anymore. Not as big of a deal as I thought.
2. I feel as though I am “getting back into the game”.
3. I learned more about wine from KG.
4. I know I thought of other good things but can’t think of them at this moment.

First NYC date = A Bust. Until next time…