A few weeks into my stint on Match.com, I received a well-mannered message from a blond-haired, blue-eyed financial journalist that lived on the upper east side named Evan. After exchanging numbers, Evan suggested we get drinks at a charming speakeasy in Greenwich Village.
When I showed up to meet him, he was sitting at the bar awaiting my arrival. He was thankfully just as advertised in his profile pictures and dressed like a dapper young gentleman. The conversation was as smooth as butter and I could already tell that I would be pleased as punch to see Evan for a second date.
One drink turned into grabbing tapas at Brasserie down the block as we entered into the quintessential discussion of how online dating had been going and what our reflections were so far.
Me: It has been interesting to say the least. I go through phases where one day I am determined to get back in the saddle and put myself out there, but then it quickly gets exhausting. But clearly, you caught me at a ‘back in the saddle phase.’
Evan: I hear you. I joined not long ago because I just got out of a relationship and I’m trying really hard to get over my ex-girlfriend. It hasn’t been easy but eventually I know it will happen.
Naturally this was a ginormous buzz kill and butterflies in my stomach quickly flew away.
Me: Interesting. Well, we should get the check.
Evan: Oh, shit. I probably shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. We don’t need to get the check let’s have another round. SHIT, that was a bush league move.
Me: I think I’m OK. Best of luck finding your rebound, but I’m not it..
Hey Evan, go to therapy, not on dates.
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