Fingers, Knees, and TOES!

This is becoming absolutely unacceptable. Last week I rescued Ruby from a date so horrid that she made her escape via a tiny bathroom window, not caring that she may be discovered…but hey, this is New York. I was ever so thankful that she elected me as accomplice to her flight from Fig & Olive, as I could swear that my date the same evening would have been considered torture in many totalitarian regimes.
I met Toetally Crazy on the train when he introduced himself one morning. We did see each other a few times and he finally worked up the nerve to begin a conversation with me before I drank my first cup of coffee (a.k.a. fuel). Following a few more morning conversations I realized that we had such a great rapport that my first cup could wait until the office and Toetally Crazy asked me out.

T. Crazy took me to Spice Market and the usual exchange of information ensued, i.e. Where were you raised? Do you have any siblings? What type of music do you enjoy? Do you have any piercings or tattoos?

I always try to choose my answer to that final question wisely. Feeling that only a select portion of the population should see how I accessorize, I coyly responded, “Well, it isn’t that easy; I am not going to tell you what type of piercings and tattoos I have, though I will say that I do have a few and I do love my toe rings.” His eyes wide with horror, T.Crazy exclaimed in a nervous tone, “UMMMM…toe rings?! Really? UMMM, well thankfully it being winter you will not wear them any time soon!” Of any type of adornment the man could have imagined or been focused upon, he was concerned with toe rings. I replied, “Actually, no, I wear them year round; I think they are pretty.” THIS man stared at me in horror, then ducked his head under the table to examine my knee high boots, coming up only to exclaim…”NOW?! You are wearing them now?! OK, that is fine…just fine…I can handle this.” ”HMMM…”, I thought, “toe rings freak him out; of all of the possible adornment type things…toe rings????” It was at this moment that our appetizers arrived. By the time our entrees were prepared, not many more words had been spoken…and…was he sweating??

“OK, I must ask,” he said in a commanding manner, “please, PLEASE, can you go into the bathroom and remove the toe rings?? I am extremely averse to the idea…the idea of [gasp] feet, and [groan] toes, and [heave] things placed…[heave] around…[gulp] TOES!!”

I stared at him blankly, having forgotten where I was and what was occurring. I was truly stunned and, for a moment, speechless. The beeping broke my trance; I read the text from Ruby and couldn’t understand, though knew that I must go. I must, first and foremost help my friend; secondly leave this lunatic behind. I began, “Well you need not worry about that; my roommate is in trouble and I must leave to help her. No worries, I will be leaving with everything that TOE-TALLY disgusts you. Thanks for a TOE-TALLY amazing evening.”

I left him sitting at the table, still sweating and made my way over to Fig & Olive. Walking past the tables I noticed an extremely attractive man sitting alone. Oh, an empty chair with a glass of wine beside the place setting. Oh well, his date must be in…the….OH! I could barely contain my laughter after walking into the bathroom, greeted by Ruby’s ass! All I could say was, “Dude. Must have been bad.” “Frankie, please just push me through,” she cried.

After meeting her outside, under the escape hatch, I explained why my response time was so rapid and suggested, “How about we pick up some Chunky Monkey and head to the salon for pedicures?” Ruby Toe-tally agreed-Frankie

A Fashionable escape

So this editor I met at Fashion Week asked me out for dinner. I met him backstage, and how I got backstage was purely an accident. As I was waiting in line for a press pass, an editor of a top style magazine decided I was so naive that she must culture me. I was way out of my league and couldn’t help feeling like Anne Hathaway’s character in The Devil Wears Prada. Being utterly shell shocked and surrounded by half-naked models dressing for a high profile men’s wear show. Mr Men’s mag editor approached me for a date.

I met Men’s mag editor at Fig n’ Olives. Upon my new agreement with Frankie, I had prepared a game plan. If Mr. Mag editor was not there when I arrived, I would turn around and leave immediately. If conversation got weird I would excuse myself to the bathroom and take off.

Mr. Mag editor was on time and looked stunning. We were seated by the door of the restaurant on the outside patio. Unfortunately, this defeated both my getaway ideas. Oh well, hope this works. I thought.

As we were scoping the menu, Mr. Men’s mag editor announced his intentions of ordering for me. “There are somethings you must try on this menu so I will take care of it all,” he said.

“Oh that’s ok. I can order for myself. I’m not a big fan of red meat…” I started to say.

“No. I’m telling you. You must try it. I’ve got you covered. Excuse me waiter. We will have…” he rattled off some order that included more red meat then I could believe.

Since Mr. Men’s Mag editor obviously had no intention of taking me out for something I wanted to eat. I decided I had to plan my escape. But how? I took a sip of my wine and excused myself to the bathroom.

In the bathroom I weighed my options.Luckily there was no one else in the bathroom. There was a window in the bathroom. It was one of those halfway up bathroom ceilings. Hmmm I thought. Now that would be perfect. I could get out from there and then I’d be on the side of the building and he would never see me leave. I climbed up on top of the toilet from stall no. 3 and opened the window.

“OK here goes,” I said. I tossed my small purse through and I boosted myself up and through the window easy except my butt was stuck. I pulled and pulled mortified I was dangling halfway through the window. I grabbed my phone and text-ed Frankie. Need help in girls bathroom fig n olives ASAP.

“Dude. Must have been bad, “said a voice from behind me through the wall where I was stuck.

“Frankie, please just push me through,” I cried.

Frankie did and then she met me in the side street. “God you are so funny,” Frankie said.

“How on earth did you?” I started to ask.

“I just got out of a god awful date at Spice Market, across the way. Your timing, couldn’t have been better!” she said. – Ruby

Never Take Candy From a Baby

Two weekends ago, while enjoying Tanqueray and Tonic with a nice burning hookah at Le Souk, my dear roommate and I agreed that we were way too extraordinary to continue on with a date if it was going terribly.

One week later and there I sat, in a taxi with Jeremy on our way to Sala One Nine and dancing at Sin Sin to follow. The cousin of a friend of my friend, Jeremy was two years my junior, though what the hell–the men who are my age are too…well…and those older guys are…well…they are ALL just insane! I knew this was going to be an evening to remember as soon as our conversation began.

Jeremy: “So, you like to party?”

Frankie: “Yes, absolutely! I am psyched to go out dancing after dinner; my friends and I are out and about quite a bit, dancing and enjoying good music.”

Jeremy: [Chuckling] “No, I think you misunderstood…Do you like to PARTY?” [Now gesturing toward his nose]

This was it–who did he think he was? Pablo Escobar?!?! This was the moment that Ruby and I discussed! I will never sit through another evening of unnecessary torture!

Frankie: “Look man, the only snow I enjoy is the type that sends me flying down Okemo Mountain on my skis.”

I jumped out of the taxi, which was stopped at a red light, turned, leaned in and before slamming the door to disaster, said, “I am way too old for babysitting; stay away from the candy kiddo”.

–Frankie

Never Take Candy From a Baby

Two weekends ago, while enjoying Tanqueray and Tonic with a nice burning hookah at Le Souk, my dear roommate and I agreed that we were way too extraordinary to continue on with a date if it was going terribly.

One week later and there I sat, in a taxi with Jeremy on our way to Sala One Nine and dancing at Sin Sin to follow. The cousin of a friend of my friend, Jeremy was two years my junior, though what the hell–the men who are my age are too…well…and those older guys are…well…they are ALL just insane! I knew this was going to be an evening to remember as soon as our conversation began.

Jeremy: “So, you like to party?”

Frankie: “Yes, absolutely! I am psyched to go out dancing after dinner; my friends and I are out and about quite a bit, dancing and enjoying good music.”

Jeremy: [Chuckling] “No, I think you misunderstood…Do you like to PARTY?” [Now gesturing toward his nose]

This was it–who did he think he was? Pablo Escobar?!?! This was the moment that Ruby and I discussed! I will never sit through another evening of unnecessary torture!

Frankie: “Look man, the only snow I enjoy is the type that sends me flying down Okemo Mountain on my skis.”

I jumped out of the taxi, which was stopped at a red light, turned, leaned in and before slamming the door to disaster, said, “I am way too old for babysitting; stay away from the candy kiddo”.

–Frankie

Another year; another bad date

That’s it I am officially in my late 20’s and another year closer to 30! My birthday party was a blast. Frankie and I hit Le Souk to drink, smoke hooka and watch some belly dancing. The two of us also dished about our latest disasters. You got it: Coffee guy is next on my list.

While how we met seemed very romantic our first date was long and incomplete. He called and asked me to meet him at a little cafe for lunch during the work week. So I showed up at set time and waited, ordered a coke, and waited, and then ordered a sandwich, and waited…. I was pissed. I had never been stood up for a date before. Sure I have had tons of bad dates, but to be stood up after our meeting. I was livid.

So I decided to be content with my sandwich and soda. His loss. Just as I was paying the bill, guess who showed up. “Sorry I am late. I was with a client. How’s about we do lunch now,” he said.

“Sorry I only get an hour. I couldn’t wait,” I said. “You could have called, but since you didn’t I figured you were a no show.”

“Well, I still think you are hot, so maybe I could meet you after work at your place,” he said.

“No way,” I said. “I have plans tonight. I don’t even know if you would show or be up to snuff.”

I grabbed my purse and I left.

After work on my way to change for Le Souk, I bumped into none other than Elisabeth. It was a tad awkward catching up with her, but nice at the same time.

“Hey gorgeous. Wait up,” she yelled out as I was hauling ass down the 5th.

“Oh hey.” She planted a kiss right on my lips and I was flustered. She looked amazing.

“It’s your birthday isn’t it?” she asked. “I know we haven’t spoken for awhile, but I would love to take you out for a birthday drink and catch up.”

“Uh, er, sure. I guess,” I said, blushing from ear to ear.

It’s funny how some dates work out and some don’t, even though you may really want them too. I really liked coffee guy, but he was a looser not showing up to the date. While Elisabeth who I had no intention of ever getting serious with was fantastic to me. The cosmos are definitely fucking with me.

While watching some belly dancing, I explained to Frankie my theory on dating.

“Within the first five minutes you pretty much know if you are really interested in the date or not,” I said.

“I think that’s about right,” she agreed.

“I’m so sick of wasting my time waiting for the date to be over. If in the first ten minutes I’m not into the dork I’m just going to get up and leave from now on,” I said.

“Are you for real?” Frankie asked, shocked.

“Absolutely.” I nodded and then sipped my cosmo.

Then, Frankie and I laid out a verbal agreement that our dating rules would become a little stricter this year. – Ruby