As our drinks arrived, mine in the traditional brown bag, to her even greater dismay, we began to get acquainted. Frankly we had no shared interests, and the date was quickly spiraling to an early conclusion, but then I slipped up…
Depressed and unstable, I went home this past Friday and checked my social calendar (Read: OkCupid) to see if there was anyone to spend time with. Empty. I slumped into my desk chair and made two (yes, two) microwave pizzas.
I took one long drink of my vodka and said that I would love to know his first impression on me. I mean, one of the best things about going on dates with people is you get to learn things about yourself that maybe no one else could have showed you. So, yes. I wanted to hear what this stranger thought about me.
Kim agreed to meet me for a drink at a NYC bar that insisted on having no name and an unwritten dress code rule that men should wear suspenders. I wore a belt; like an adult.
A while back a friend made a suggested If a lady says she is interested in something. Say for instance Post-apocalyptic science fiction, I should show my communal interest in that.
That following is a message I sent that received no reply:
Jews represent 0.2% of the world population. Assuming this is split 50/50 among men and women (it isn’t) I am left with 0.1% of the population. Since half of those people live in Israel, and many of them are too young or too old, I have statistically dated more than my share of Jews.