Girlfriend or not a girlfriend?

So I may or may not have a new girlfriend. I'm not sure honestly. I feel like I've pushed her into it.  Of course, she may have wanted me to be her girlfriend too. Chloe took me our for an amazing Valentine's Day dinner at Per Se after a great romantic and fun weekend in Hunter Mountain with several of our friends who are also lesbians. We've been together almost every night she has off from bar tending at work. She practically lives at my place.

Still I feel like I'm gunning for a silver instead of a gold, if you know what I mean. I don't think she means to, but sometimes she does make me feel second best.

And after after we slept together last night she said, "You are an amazing girlfriend." This is what she always says after we sleep together, and here's where it gets weird... she makes me stop before she orgasms.  She says doesn't like it when I make her orgasm. Now that is bazaar to me because everyone strives for that certain release. I like making her feel good and I get excited when she starts shaking and moaning.  And just when I think she's going to ....she freaks out and pushes me away because she says it is too intense for her to finish. Actually she pushes me over and  starts going down on me before I can finish her off. This makes me feel somewhat inadequate, even though I almost got her there. I'm determined to figure out why she won't let me finish what I started.

Sometimes I feel out of place with Chloe. When we go to a bar or out for dinner Chloe looks at other girls. If we go to a bar sometimes she flirts with them in front of me. I'm not sure exactly how to take it. If I flirt with girls she gets upset. I want to give her space, but I want her to respect me at the same time.

When we went to Per Se, this guy at another table was checking me out and I glanced over because he was so obvious doing the scoping. "Oh my god, this guy is too much. He's got the X-ray vision on or something," I said to Chloe.

"What? Do you want to sleep with him?," Chloe said annoyed. "Go ahead," she said. "He's been checking you out all night."

"Uh, No! I'm here with my girlfriend," I reminded her. Then she smiled and changed the subject and that seemed to be the end of that.

Chloe left this morning and said she would be at my home to cook dinner for me, which is really sweet. But it is Sunday night and almost 9pm. I'm wondering if she'll actually show up. She called about an hour ago from her place to say she was on her way, but it only takes her 20 minutes at the most to get here. (I know cause I have been to her place.) So where is she? Flirting with girls at Hens? Probably.

Now, I might be scared because I really like Chloe. Really like her. I think I'm falling for her. But there is something about her that I don't trust completely. For the most part we are two peas in a pod. We like the same foods, laugh at the same stupid movies and I can be myself with her. But there are things about her that make me nervous. It scares me too that she hates her job, and has ambitious dreams to be a doctor that she wants to fulfill eventually, someday. She quit her dream half way through med school and started bar tending. That's what she has done since and she hates it. Perhaps it is just me, but she seems to finish everything half way through including relationships and, whats more is that doesn't seem to bother her. It bothers me though. I have to admit. Maybe I'm just too harsh or judgmental. But I feel like even if I'm part of her dreams, if she has to give it effort, she will quit me half way through too. - Ruby

Dump This Biznitch

It was Sunday afternoon and I had just returned from Astoria where I visited my secret gem, Saloon, for a day of hair pampering (one of the last simple pleasures which I am able to afford). It was a cool, yet sunny day and I was trying to decide whether to go out barhopping for a bit; unusual behavior for me on a Sunday. Josh had not called; there had been a few emails and the assistance I gave to him to find another job as he wanted to leave the comic book powerhouse where he worked. Imagine that—me, the temp employee, trying to find work for another person who had a permanent position! You would think I might learn…no, a characteristic that I had also inherited from Grandma was the put others before yourself, people pleasing syndrome.

Ruby had taken off on Friday for a weekend up at Hunter Mountain. It was a two night ski trip and she had said that she wanted to invite me, though it was strictly a gay/lesbian holiday; which I understood.

Suddenly, my cell phone began to ring. It was Josh and for some strange reason, I began to have some strange feeling. I thought perhaps I shouldn’t answer the call. Then second thought why should I second guess seeming eager to hear from a friend who had become something more? I answered.

“Hey, it’s Josh. Are you busy?”, he asked.

This seemed so odd. “Not too busy. What’s up?”, I asked.

“I wanted to know if I could come over for a minute. I will not be long.”, he replied.

UGGGG, here it comes. He is breaking up with me. He had once told me that he only breaks up with girls in person; too disrespectful over the telephone or text message. Well, all pave the way for Mr. Valiant. I knew what I was walking into and for a second considered jumping the gun and calling him out, though I guess I was still hoping that he wouldn’t dump me. Not because I thought it would destroy me. Whatever, he is a guy who was a colleague, then a friend and we tried the romantic thing for a month; we never established exclusivity. Though let’s get real—BEING DUMPED SUCKS!

After ringing the doorbell I led him into the living room and sat on the sofa...and he began...

"Frankie, I have been so fortunate to date amazing women in my life," yes, he said this, "and you are breathtakingly beautiful, smart, ambitious. You really are great."

Was he serious? I can't believe this. But oh yes, it gets better...of course it gets better...

"I don't want to continue our relationship", he finally admitted.

"Why are you dumping me?", I asked.

"I know. It is something with me (translation..."it's you Frankie") I tell myself to get over it and I just can't. I am sorry", Josh apologized.

I breathed in deeply; he completely evaded my question.

He continued,"I would still like to, you know, hang out every so often."

I couldn't believe it! My self-pity had turned to disgust. Did he just say that?!

I looked at him point blank and said,"Mmmm, no, I don't do that. I come around once."

He looked stunned. Could he not believe that I was not begging to be close to his hairy like a yak body? "Uh, I think I should go", he whispered.

"Yes, good idea", I agreed.

He walked out the door as I held it open, had the nerve to look back and say, "Goodbye Frankie", way too dramatic.

I raised an eyebrow and almost laughed while I slammed the door shut in his face.

Well, that was it...Tonight is a bar night! I grabbed my phone and called Sarah immediately-- "Hey Girlie, what's up?", she asked.

"Josh dumped me!", I shrieked.

"Oh no! What a loser. He's a hipster, isn't he?," she asked.

"Don't start!", I laughed,"it's fine, whatever, he is a loser and apparently it is something with the name Josh...a few other chicks seem to have the same problem. Though I need to get out of here...NOW! Meet me at Japas in half an hour?"

Sarah laughed,"This is awesome. Almost like you're celebrating. Sure, I am down for that type of fun".

At that moment Ruby walked in. "Hey Chiquita, what's going on dude? I just saw Josh downstairs; he looked like shit and didn't even notice me", she said.

"Josh dumped me", I rolled my eyes as I spoke,"now it's time for some tension release. Let's go!"

"Frankie, I am sorry. That sucks! He is such a dirty dog", said Ruby, "though I am kind of tired from pretending to be Hannah Teter this weekend".

"I'll give you a little hint...for my first number, I will sing...well you must wait and find out", I teased.

Ruby looked at me curiously.

"Why Karaoke, My Dear", which was all I had to say before we were out the door...and losers out of our lives. --Frankie

Blogging a Break Up

Blogging about dating is fun, but it has its challenges. In the two years that I have writen for NYC Dating Disaster, I have tried my best to protect the identities of the men and women that I have dated (Granted, when we first posted the blog we did outright name some major Dating A-holes, but on the whole we keep it low profile). Shy Girl didn't give me that consideration.

"Did you see Shy Girl's blog post about you?" Jane asked, frantically waving her arms. We had met for a drink at Cubbyhole and my happy hour martini was headed back to the bar through my nose.

Luckily I sucked it back in the nick of time."Excuse me? Say what?" I said wincing and wiping my nose.

"Rubes, Shy girl has written like 10 blogs about you! She took out her iPhone and went to Shy Girl's Facebook page where there were links with descriptions such as:
"The cute girl from the bar", 
"I think I like her", 
"I'm buying a U-Haul", 
"Why won't she return my phone calls and finally,
 "The bitch dumped me."

"Ah, good read?" I asked. "It sounds like the top 10 breakup songs of all time. I like the sound of the last one."

"Rubes, they are all about you! She just keeps writing and writing about how you broke her heart. What on earth did you do?" Jane asked.

"Uh, well, I hooked up and then slept with Chloe after the New Years party and then when Shy Girl asked me on another date I told her no because Chloe and I decided we would be girlfriends, " I admitted.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend now?" Jane asked as if her head were going to explode. "Exclusive girlfriend?"

"Yes, I suppose so. But I feel kind of bad, like I pressured Chloe into it," I explained. "We had slept together and were talking about how we were both very bad at being girlfriends and had had shitty girlfriends and I said I wanted another and was looking for something serious eventually, but eventually turned out to be like one hour later after we had sex for the umpteenth time," I said very fast and took another sip out of my martini.

"Holy shit," Jane stated. "This is never going to work. Chloe is a bartender so you'll like never see her with your schedule," she said.

"That might be a good thing," I replied. "Think about it. We both get a certain amount of personal freedom that way," I said trying to sound positive.

"Or you will just end up cheating on each other," Jane said.

"Thanks for your affirmation and support," I retorted.

"Ok, but you really need to do something about Shy Girl or she is going to go psycho on you one of these days. Read her post,"Jane advised.

Jane was right. Shy Girl was hating. She wasn't just venting about bad dates; and we hadn't had sex so posting on bad sex wasn't even possible. Shy Girl had dedicated several posts to our relationship that never was because she didn't know why it never was.

One post whined:
Why won't you talk to me. I thought things were going well. I was falling for you before you broke my heart you asshole.


Another post stated:
I wish I could cut your heart up into tiny pieces you fucking bitch. I hate you and I hope you get a disease and die you slut

Did I really want to talk to the person that had written that? Did I deserve that?

In truth, Shy Girl had confused the hell out of me. She seemed nice at first. But then she had talked about how she was still attracted to men, but wanted to be with a woman; made a bet with her best friend over whom I would choose to date; came to a party as a friend and told everyone she was my girlfriend and then made a scene and passed out on the living room rug at Cindy's. So I had simply just told Shy Girl that I wasn't interested in seeing her anymore over the phone. That apparently wasn't enough.

"OK," I said and grabbed my phone and dialed up Shy Girl who answered a little bit too quickly and eagerly. "Hi. Yeah, so I see you've been writing some posts about me," I said.

"Yes," she admitted. "I don't know why we broke up," she complained. "You just dumped me!"

"I did," I said. "Listen, it wasn't you. I'm just at a place right now where I don't think I can be with anyone," I lied. "You were fantastic, but I'm not sure we are really good together, and I don't think that I can be as good to you and you could be to me," I said.

Jane rolled her eyes and took a sip of her amaretto sour.

"I don't want to hurt you," I continued to say to Shy Girl. "I'm very sorry if I caused you pain." This was true. I didn't want to hurt her.

Jane nodded approvingly.

"Well, if you ever want to grab a drink," Shy Girl said. "I think we would have made a great couple, but I understand if you are not ready for commitment. I thought you were. But I want someone who is serious and treats me well."

"And you deserve it," I said. "I have to go now, but again, I'm sorry. I hope we can still be friends."

"Friends," Shy Girl agreed.

I hung up. "I feel like an asshole," I admitted.

"You kind of look like one too," Jane said and rubbed my head. "But I love you anyway, you dog."
Jane checked her Facebook on her iPhone. "I think she's OK now."

Shy Girl's status said "Over It."  - Ruby

Hipster Who?

Josh had left town for a few days last Monday to visit with family who live up north in Vermont. Sweet of him to make time to travel six hours on a good weekend, though the threat of snow could quickly turn a winter wonderland into a never ending road trip. I didn't care that he did not call for a few days. I never understood the stalker technique of dating which consists of constantly keeping tabs on the person you are dating. He was with family, plus I was keeping myself entertained by meeting with Nigella for drinkies at the Whiskey Blue located within the W in Midtown. Nigella's buddy, Don, has worked at the hotel for quite some time...and had been trying to work his way into her pants much longer.

"Why don't you give him a shot?", I asked Nigella, partially kidding.

"Mmmm, no. One drama crazy relationship at a time, thank you", was Nigella's reply.

"But he looooooves you", I said in a Tanqueray and Tonic generated proclamation. Nigella was kind of, semi attached. She and the guy she had been seeing for the last four years were off...again. We'll say on hiatus. Though she was in no mood for any BS right now; boyfriend, break hook-up, rebound or otherwise.

"Hey why don't we talk about your little boy-friend?", she asked,"How old is he now? Twelve?".

Oh Nigella's wit. Never a dull moment. "He is legal", I added to her bad joke,"he is up in Vermont with family this week. Poor thing is missing kickball this week", I quipped.

"Wait", said Nigella,"Kickball? Oh no. Wait. Does he wear flannel and tight pants? Grow facial hair? Does he try to be ironic and look for the irony in his attempts at being ironic?", asked a concerned Nigella.

"Dude. You almost made the Tanqueray and tonic shoot from my nose!", I laughed, "And yes, I choose answer (D) All of the above".

"Frankie! I think you're dating a hipster! EWWWWWW."

I never really got the entire concept of The Hipster. That infamous being that had supposedly invaded and conquered Williamsburg, Greenpoint, LES, and now existed in cells throughout Astoria.

"No, Nigella, don't be silly", I said, "He is Josh, just Josh. I mean, what is this hipster label? I don't get it".

"Oh Frankie, this is not good. Your ignorance of The Hipster makes me fearful that you could not recognize one. They are obnoxious, almost emo but not. They have this air about them like they are superior, though they are completely full of shit."

Nigella's definition seemed much like those found on urbandictionary.com.

We kept chatting about it. If it were true, then I was toast. Though I could not easily identify The Hipster, what I did know is that dating one would not have positive results for me.

I definitely march to the beat of my own drummer, though in an entirely different manner than those who could be termed alternative or hipster or whatever anti-mainstream term one could use. I am simply me. As Michael Cera said during Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist,"I don't really subscribe to any label".

Which is probably why I could not recognize that I had fallen into like with a hipster. --Frankie