It was a strange week.
I joke a lot that I appreciate men in NYC being so bad with women because it makes my job so much easier.
As the Counselor likes to say, “The bar is on the floor,” so any improvement on top of that is significant.
Like I said, compared to the average NYC dude, I’m a goddamn pleasure.
Having said that, there’s a distinct negative to this reality, which is that very wealthy and/or very attractive women just behave in ways that are, frankly, appalling.
Case-in-point, one rando, but very attractive, blonde hit me up outta the blue the other day on IG and she seemed really friendly and nice with a large number of followers, which made me think she was normal.
But, when I took too long to respond to a question, she lost her mind and started ranting about some crazy stuff.
I had to block her and delete that convo because it got so unhinged.
Here’s the thing, I realize that I – as a man – have the luxury to simply move on with my life, while women that have to deal with this kinda nonsense have to contend with stalkers and far worse.
Still, I wonder a lot how people are raised that they can make demands of another person they barely know.
And my follow-up question is, how many men are jumping through every hoop this lady throws at them?
Me: Man, it’s awful out there.
Her: Well, yeah. On that note, what are we doing here?
As for the other reason why it was a weird week, was because I had two defining-the-relationship talks with two different women.
Like with Alison, I figure that I’ll know what I want when I meet what I want.
I’ve always found that logic has a limited role in these types of things.
Her: I just want to know that I’m not wasting my time.
Me: I get that. I only have about 11,000 days left here and I’m not looking to waste any of them. I wish I could give you more clarity than that.
After all these years, people are still the same, and – I suppose – I’m still ever the same.
We all have our front-runners and back-burners and the only real question is when to tell people where they are and where I am.
It’s the part of dating I hate the most and the part that I’d hoped I was long past almost decade-and-a-half-ago when I told Alison that all I wanted was her.
Location: the gym, of course, trying to drop two more pounds
Music: Nothing’s good enough for anybody else, it seems (Spotify)
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