And the winner who showed up in sweatpants and couldn’t buy me a drink because he’d spent his last on a beer and wings special for himself. And there’ve been wonderful guys in the mix too, most of whom fizzled out because in this city, it’s just really hard to fit two people, and their ambitions, into one relationship. ”) Maybe a change of location — to New Bern, North Carolina; Miami, Florida; Austin, Texas; Sioux Falls, South Dakota; Detroit, Michigan; and Los Angeles, California — was the answer.
Things move so fast in New York that I only recently stopped to ask myself how I’d wound up here, over 35 and still single, but not always wanting to be. I’d already crossed the fuck-it-something's-got-to-give threshold of my New York dating life. If this trip had been a blind date, I would’ve walked out of the bar the second I saw New Bern’s offerings, via a terrifying night of Tindering.
Still, I both got annoyed waiting for him to come to me, and felt guilty over his two-hour commute.
Jason seemed eager for a committed relationship, but I ultimately didn’t see it going anywhere.
Then I practically fell asleep at the wheel coming home.
The next night, we had another terrific date wandering around New Bern and going on a ghost tour (half the town is haunted, apparently).
There was the young Marine who did an exaggerated double take before telling me I was the most beautiful woman in the bar.
And the bassist who insisted I listen to 10 minutes of his music while he watched me react to it.
But he also lived in the beach town of Morehead City, nearly an hour away from New Bern, and his roommate had the car for the night, so could I drive to him?
We had a great night hopping from a seafood restaurant, to a cocktail lounge, to making out at a bar on a dock so close to the water you could dip your feet in.
I went out by myself and by the end of Saturday night was rolling with a new friend group 10 people deep.
I also couldn’t believe the plethora of good-looking, gentlemanly guys who bought me drinks.