Sunday, July 31, 2011

when you know better, you do better...

Our tale begins in the midst of the first NYC Blizzard for 2011. Our heroine after rushing through her morning routine of hitting the snooze button and yelling at the coffee machine - managed somehow to make it out the door and in a suit and "sensible" heels no less, to the Upper East Side for her 10:00 a.m. interview with "Insert Prestigious Teaching Hospital Here". Shaking snow from her hair and tipping the cabbie for not killing her on the treacherously icy drive across the park - she slid and skated her way into the lobby.

"We're so sorry Hun,' the front desk clerk said turning back to her blinking phones, "the Principle Investigator is running behind due to the weather and the R.A. who will be interviewing you is running about an hour late as well. But you are welcome to have a seat." She finished the last part in a no nonsense tone that indicated that questions would not be tolerated and slide the glass partition closed. Separation was automatic and cut me off from the business end of things leaving me adrift in the waiting area. Have I yet mentioned that this particular waiting room was in the Psychiatric area of said hospital?

Taking a seat in the desolate room of chairs and outdated magazines, I tried to make myself presentable and will my toes to turn back to pink from the bluish tinge they were beginning to develop. I sat squarely with my back to the wall in the far corner opposite the door, anyone entering or leaving would be in my purview.

Cue Norman. I know that it isn't nice to coin him Norman Bates - after all he was far from Psycho, but it's rather to capture the humor of the situation. That is his moniker- go with it. The first time I saw Norman he entered the waiting area with a draft of icy wind breaking around his tall frame. I am sucker for tall men so I admit I eyed him up as he brushed the snow from his dark brown hair. He appeared to be in his twenties, in relatively good shape and was dressed in that nondescript New York style men adapt to in the colder months - namely a black peacoat, jeans and boots.

He waived at the receptionist in a way that made it seem they were the oldest of friends and after scanning the rows of vacant seats, decided to sit directly beside me. I busied myself with the forms I had brought for the meeting and kept my eyes trained on them. As I hunched deeper over my paperwork, I attempted to ignore the small ice breaking grunts my new companion was making.

When his less than obvious "ahems" caused him to start all out coughing. I finally resigned myself to look up. He smiled behind the fist politely shielding his mouth. "Sorry" he muttered.

I will admit dear readers, I was a bit taken with what I saw. Dark hair, a bit of scruff, and gorgeous blue-green eyes. "Not a worry." I responded neutrally. Thinking better of the situation, after all I didn't know him from Adam and while he was good looking I had an interview to get on with. I pleasantly shifted in my seat and returned my eyes to my forms.

Norman was not to be brushed off so easily. "So, what brings you here today?" he inquired. I smiled, referenced the pages in my hand and said "an interview" leaving a nice wide berth of anonymity between us.

Now readers, my mother is huge fan and advocate of anything Oprah Winfrey ever uttered and is famous for spouting her succinct little firecrackers of wisdom whenever given the chance, and before the conversation commenced further, it was these words that briefly flitted through my mind "when you know better, you do better." Well Mom, I guess I should have known better - but your daughter it would seem had not learned that key lesson in not speaking to strangers. So a conversation did in fact develop. While I never learned why Norman was in that waiting room, it did become clear that he was a. from NY, b. a college graduate and c. interested in whatever it was that I uttered. Somehow within this short dialogue we exchanged numbers and a noncommittal vow that we would "hang out in the city". At which point my interviewer arrived and I was lead away into an office.

When I reappeared roughly an hour later, excited, because I would be starting a week later in the very position I wanted, the waiting area was vacant once more and there was no sign of Norman. Buttoning up my jacket I trudged back out into the storm and by evening had promptly forgotten about our meeting all together.

Then 2 a.m. happened. I had just fallen asleep when my cell phone went off with that annoying chime - you know, the one I know I should change because it is so startlingly loud. Thinking it was a friend with an actual emergency I rolled over and groped for my glasses. And there was a text with the three most asinine words I have ever read at 2 a.m. on a Monday evening (caveat -they were not from my best friend who lives on the West Coast where 2 a.m. is merely midnight). "Hey, you awake?" I knew I should ignore and try to go back to bed, but we have already established I don't do better even when I know... so I responded - "Kinda, just ready to fall asleep though." There I thought, to the point, nice, but basically indicating now was not a time for texting. So imagine my annoyance when I received back, "Oh, Kool." Readers, "KOOL" is not a word. For my male readers - never text a girl "kool" the word is "COOL" with a "C". "Yup, goodnight." I responded and put my phone on vibrate. Only to have it go off in my hand. "So, whatcha doing?" Honestly! He asked what I was doing. "Trying to sleep - talk to you soon." Only to receive an immediate bewildering response.

"Oh ok, I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite 2 eat 2morrow?????"Apparently this was a five question mark question. I don't know what compelled me, maybe it was thinking I could get him to stop texting, maybe I am just an idiot (very likely), well for whatever reason I returned the text. "Sure, that would work." And was graced with this as a reply "AWESOME!" Terrific! I grumbled at myself, but the phone finally fell silent and I fell back asleep.

I awoke at 8 a.m. somewhat refreshed and reached for my glasses and cellphone thinking only about making coffee (yes, I am a well established addict). Unplugging my phone from the charger I noticed it was blinking- indicating I had either an email or a text message. Turns out I had about 25 text messages ranging in time stamp from 3 a.m. right up to 7:45 a.m. all from - you guessed it, Norman. They covered a wide variety of topics from what movie he was watching on his laptop to what he was thinking at the moment. Here are some examples- "they should make a sequel to Momento", "Christian Bale looks scary in the Machinest", "do you know how to play checkers?" and so it went. I scanned through them while I sipped my first cup of joe, needless to say, I was deeply confused. Apparently, I mused Norman does not make a habit of sleeping and has a penchant for stream of conscious late night texting.

My day remained relatively quiet - a few errands in the morning, class in the afternoon. Then around 7 p.m. my phone went off. "HEY! READY FOR DINNER?!" I seriously thought about canceling. Or playing the someone is sick or my apartment is flooded card - but for whatever reason (I am going to go with his eyes and his height)I texted back that we could meet at Columbus Circle and grab a bite from there.

He was late by twenty minutes, and when he got there loped over to me the way a little kid would. "Sorry I am late, the weather..." he said, making a gesture with his hand toward the windows to indicate the wintery mix swirling in the wind. "It's ok, really" I returned. We decided to grab a bite to eat in Hell's Kitchen, which was only a short walk from CC. One thing I noticed about Norman was how quiet he had become, whenever I asked him anything or tried to engage him in conversation he replied with a weird little laugh and kept walking. Strange I thought, but kept walking alongside. We passed several restaurants and when I mentioned this to Norman he indicated there was a specific one he wanted to eat at the name escapes me all these months later. Turns out it was Thai and all in all it was a very nice restaurant. He revealed during the conversation several whoppers - a. he was part Thai (I cannot verify this fact - most likely true), b. he had only been back living in NYC since October (so basically 5 months - okay no biggie) c. he lived with his brother and sister (fine it is NYC rent after all) and d. he was 23 (a young 23). It was the 23 thing that I couldn't handle. Nearly two years younger than me wasn't exactly jiving with me. He became more talkative over dinner, saying he loved playing guitar, just got out of his first serious relationship (it was seven months long), and was loving being back in New York. What puzzled me during this entire conversation was his mannerisms, something was off about Norman. So, I brought up the text messages. How was the Machinest? I asked. He stared at me blankly for minute and then covered with "it was an okay movie, why?" Thankfully at this point the check arrived and we were saved any further exploration of this topic.

Norman decided he had to escort me back to Columbus Circle, and on the way he went back to his less than chatty self. I just couldn't understand it, since after all he had approached me in the waiting room and had blown up my phone with text messages he apparently couldn't remember. Once we arrived back in front of the Time Warner Center I felt physically relieved. Norman gave me a stilted hug and mentioned he had a nice time. I thanked him for dinner and made a motion to hail a cab (the only exit strategy needed). At which point I did a double take, Norman had walked across the street where standing at the corner was pretty much his doppleganger. The two high fived and started walking away. I chalked it up to poor vision and the snow that had begun to fall, it was a friend of his I was sure. He probably met him to go to a bar after dinner with me.

I got home, snuggled with my cat and tried to forget the weirdness of the night. When naturally my phone went off :

NB- "Did you have fun tonight?".
TES - "Yea, it was nice, thanks Norman."
NB - "Did you like the food?"
TES - "Yes, it was fine."
NB - "We should do this again"
TES - "Actually Norman, I think we are looking for two different things. I had fun, but it's not going to work out."
NB- "Really!?! Damn I knew I should have gone..."
TES- "Huh? I don't really understand that last text message Norman."
NB - "I got sidetracked with some stuff and my agoraphobia kicked up today so I had my twin go instead... I mean we are identical so I figured it would be fine..."
TES- ::DELETE NORMAN FROM PHONE::

New York City (2)/ The Exit Strategy (0)

Yup I had just come home from a date with his twin... some would say two for the price of one - for me this was just a bit too much "ick factor". But as Mama always says "When you know better, you do better." ;)



I'm back...

with more fodder for the cannon.

I know I have been away for a few months - but if anything I have been collecting field research, bringing with me more tales of the unusual and sometimes awe inspiring world of NYC dating.

I feel I should come clean now - though this blog is entirely meant to be anonymous (except for the lucky few who know if its existence) I have another blog that I write about my life and times in NYC that is more public and therefore been getting a lot more attention. Juggling the two has become something I have attempted to sort out and I think I have a handle on it now. I have devised a plan to attempt to keep both afloat. Each Sunday night from here on out I will devout to this blog. To this email address and to any and all things related to "The Exit Strategy". Like I said in the title - I am back dear readers - I am sorry for being absent for so long.

So who is next on our hit list - what poor unfortunates have spun me for a loop - fear not I have plenty in my arsenal.

For instance, there is Norman Bates whom I subsequently met in the waiting room of a psychiatry department... (yes I knew better), the Islander as in guy from Long Island who attempted to woo me using words he had made up (sexay anyone... Bueller... Bueller?), Mitch McDeere from the Village who plays more games than a chessboard in Washington Square Park), The Diver, an actual commercial diver and subsequent film buff who thinks that deep existential conversations should happen via text message at 3 a.m., and Young Cusack, once you get past the resemblance to John Cusack circa 1986, I found this guy to be pretty much 110% creepster... so stay tuned - I think you will all be pleasantly surprised!

laters <3