Pokemon Go[ne]

I was delighted to receive a Tinder notification that informed me of a ‘Super Like’ from a strapping 33 year-old named Ryan who had an infectious smile and what seemed to be stable employment. Usually the Super Likes I receive come from the bottom of the barrel so this one had me particularly excited.

We began chatting immediately and after a few hours of exchanging messages back and forth, we set up a date for later in the week.

We sat down in a dimly-lit Brasserie to enjoy a bottle of red wine and some appetizers.

The conversation was pleasantly fluent as we discussed how we both came to settle in the big city and how we could never (like quintessential New Yorkers) picture ourselves anywhere else.

Ryan excused himself to go to the bathroom.

I noticed he was taking an unusual amount of time, especially for a male. I then turned my head toward the front door of the restaurant and noticed him entering through the front door, not coming from the bathroom.

Not wanting to pry, I figured he had an important call he had to tend to and dismissed his awkward reentry.

About five minutes later, he glanced at his phone and once again, excused himself to exit the building.

I thought either there was some sort of family emergency occurring or he just had a very important role in his company. Regardless, I wanted to be understanding.

After he came back, he quickly excused himself a final time. Upon his return back to the table, I inquired if there was anything wrong or if we should meet another time.

“Sorry, full disclosure, I needed to run out because I just saw there was a Gyarados.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What is that?”

“It’s a very rare Pokemon. I saw a few before as well that I didn’t catch yet so I wanted to go grab them. This last one is pretty rare though so I really wanted to go grab it. I put it away now. I promise I’m done!”

“So, let me get this straight. You are 33, and you left our date several times to go catch a Poke-Man?”

“It’s Poke-MON, actually…hehe!”

“Hmm. Well let’s get the check. I’m done as well.”

 

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Eat The Cake, Anna Mae

I met Jarrod at a girlfriend’s office Christmas party because she too was riding solo during the plethora of holiday shindigs that eminently occurred every December.

I did not find myself immediately attracted to Jarrod. He stood about 5 feet 8 inches (next to my 5’7 frame)and was slightly on the husky side. He donned a pair of Prada eye glasses which made it blatantly obvious he was trying hard to be en vogue, but not in a way that was doing him any favors.

After a few champagne punches though, Jarrod, a portfolio manager from Patterson, New Jersey began to grow on me and I was convinced that giving him my number would not be such a horrible idea, so I punched it into his Samsung before heading back up to the Upper East Side (alone) to pass out.

Jarrod and I started hanging out fairly regularly. Though the jury was still out on whether or not I was crazy about him, I did enjoy his company. The one disadvantageous thing I DID find in him was that he recently got into cross fit. Like any cross fitter, he HAD to talk about his work out and his diet despite me reassuring him of the fact  that I could not give one flying fuck about it.

About 2 months went by and I will say that Jarrod was looking a lot more delicious than when I first met him, so I wasn’t minding the cross fit nearly as much. Also, his healthy eating was keeping me in check and I began to shed some pounds myself.

At this time I decided I would invite Jarrod home with me to Connecticut to meet my family and the day of our visit just so happened to fall on the day after Jarrod’s birthday.

Hungover from the celebrating his 35th, we jumped on the Metro North bound for Middletown, CT. We were fondly piecing together the previous evening’s events but we both agreed how satisfying it felt to have a cheat day and eat an entire pepperoni pizza at two in the morning after binging on multiple forms of alcohol. Good times.

We arrived at my parent’s house and everyone seemed to be getting along just fine. My mom and dad are always so warm and welcoming to anyone and the home cooked meal of marinated pork chops, sweet potatoes and broccoli casserole tasted as good as I could remember when I was a kid.

After we finished dinner we were all sipping on some whiskey sours courtesy of my dad when the lights went out. All of a sudden, my mom walks in holding a home made birthday cake covered in 35 candles.

She placed the delicious mound of confection in front of Jarrod and we all crooned him with an obnoxiously off-key rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’

I was simply touched by how much my mom went out of her way to make a cake for this guy that could be a total asshole for all she knew.

And as it turns out, he was.

My mom cut a piece of cake and handed it to Jarrod to which he passed off to me.

“Oh no,” my mom said. “The birthday boy gets the first piece!”

“No, I am actually not having any. I had my cheat day yesterday. My diet is very important to me and I am really trying to stay on track.”

Humiliated, I gave him a nudge under the table.

“Jarrod,” I said. I don’t think one small piece of birthday cake is going to kill you.”

If looks could kill, he would have been annihilated on the spot.

My mom, being the sweetheart that she is insisted she could get him some sugar free sorbet that she kept in the freezer but again, he wouldn’t have any of it.

I excused myself from my parents and led Jarrod into the family room to have a word.

“My sweet mother took the time to make that lovely cake for you from scratch and you can’t even have the decency to take a fucking bite? You better check yourself real quick and eat a piece of that cake then tell her how delicious it is.”

Jarrod marched back into the dining room, took his fork and cut the most insignificant corner off his slice.  I mean 4 crumbs worth. He put it into his mouth then quickly said it the most monotonous tone possible, “This is delicious, but I really need to keep to my diet. I have to keep a food journal for my cross fit coach and he won’t be pleased if he finds out I ate this.”

I must also add that he didn’t even bother to express any gratitude to my mother by saying a simple ‘thank you’ for the hard work and effort my mom put into making this for him.

Livid and wanting to enjoy the rest of my evening without Jarrod, I checked the Metro North app on the cell phone to see what time the next train came. I told him to get in the car as one was leaving in 13 minutes and he needs to be on it.

I dropped Jarrod off at the station and ignored every text he sent after that.



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