Book Title: Confessions of An Online Dating Addict: A True Account of Dating and Relating in the Internet Age
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TRYING TO GET OVER MYSELF
I suppose I’m a snob when it comes to dating. No, I’ll admit it. I am a snob when it comes to dating.
I know, I know — it might not seem like it. I dated the farty ferry boat captain and a bi-polar Ronald McDonald, but those were against my better judgment and in moments of desperation. Really.
Deep down I really see myself with a successful man who makes a good living, drives a good car, has a good education, and lives in a nice neighborhood.
Perhaps it is the old Cinderella curse from my upbringing — as young girls we are told the “Prince” will come to whisk us away and we will live happily ever after. I wasn’t like a lot of my friends who expected the man I married to support me 100% and make an excellent living, but I did want this person to have a job or career I would be proud of talking about to my friends.
One day, not long after I found out my “Perfect Guy” Roger was now in a serious relationship with someone, I realized I couldn’t pine for him any longer and I really needed to move on. At about the same time, I got an e-mail from Justin. Hey, I had a live one here! He was 36 years old and lived in Staten Island. Borough. I didn’t really do borough. If you’re not a New Yorker, “borough” means the other parts of New York City besides the island of Manhattan, including Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx, Staten Island, etc. (And Mike doesn’t count.)
But Justin wrote me very nice notes about how attractive I was. His profile didn’t list his career, so I asked what he did and he told me he worked for the City of New York.
“What do you do for the City of New York?” I asked. I mean, that could be anything from repairing streets to the Deputy Mayor.
“I work for the Department of Sanitation,” he replied.
“Uh oh,” I thought. This was a little disconcerting.
“What do you do for the Department of Sanitation?” I asked.
“I pick up garbage,” he replied.
Oh no! Could there be a worse job one could have than a garbage man?
Actually, when I told a close friend she said it would be worse if he was a porn star. Yes, I suppose that would have been worse. But not by much.
I have to say his admission stopped me in my tracks for a moment. Could I really bring myself to date a garbage man? Here I was a college educated, successful woman with my own business and I was about to date a garbage man? I couldn’t have landed any farther from my “Perfect Guy” if I tried.
And then a friend said it really shouldn’t matter what he did, but who he was as a person. So I decided to get over myself and meet him for coffee on a Sunday afternoon. I suppose it helped he did indeed have a four-year college degree and had majored in psychology. He was also studying to get his private pilot’s license. He wasn’t stupid. I’m not exactly sure why he chose to be a garbage man. Does anyone really choose it as a profession? Does anyone say, “Mom, when I grow up, I want to be a garbage man!”
I invited Justin to meet me at a cool coffee house on the Upper West Side. I arrived first, and the coffee house was overflowing with people. So I sat on a bench out front waiting for him. He was late. After about 15 minutes, I saw him crossing the street wearing some sort of strange hat, and I thought, “Oh boy … here we go.”
I was being terribly judgmental right from the beginning and found myself looking for something that would make this not work out. When he got closer, I got a better look at him. He had a beautiful complexion, chiseled features, and nice blue eyes.
It was clear we were never going to get a seat in the coffee house, so we decided to walk down the street and see what we can find. We came across an Italian restaurant, and since neither of us had eaten, we decided to grab a bite.
I noticed Justin didn’t put his napkin on his lap, and when our salad was served, he seemed a little embarrassed.
“I was never good with all this silverware on the table and trying to figure out which is the right fork to use,” he said, and laughed nervously.
“I know. It can be intimidating. Let me share a little trick with you I learned years ago. You just work your way from the outside to the inside,” I said. And off we went. But the fact he admitted he didn’t know what to do was heartwarming to me.
He seemed very nervous, and I felt bad for him. But we had a nice conversation, and after lunch he asked if I wanted to take a walk in Central Park with him, which was just a few blocks away. It had started raining, and I had an umbrella and he didn’t. As we crossed the street, I slipped (must have been the oil and rain mixed together on the pavement) and went face down in the street like a ton of bricks. Could I have been more embarrassed?
Justin quickly reached down and helped me up. To lighten up the moment I said, “See, I’m already falling for you!”
“I’d better hold your hand to make sure you don’t fall again,” he said. I liked that.
We walked around the park and talked for a long time. Conversation came very easily between us, and I had to admit Justin was a really nice, gentle, kind man. After awhile, he leaned over and kissed me, and the chemistry was definitely there.
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