Sunday, August 2, 2009

Wow Me.

Back before you had a chance to miss me. Hello to all you Sing and Mar fans out there on the Internet. I have many things to discus, and update or two to provide. It has been an interesting couple of weeks. Firstly, I'm sure everyone wants to know how my pseudo blind-date went. I did pop up to NYC last weekend and, as promised, Banjo came through and we went out with her friend. I realized that I had actually met the girl before, which was very comforting, and we settled into a nice conversation about what she was doing (med school) other superficial nonsense. As it turns out, she was splitting time between the US and the middle east. She told me that she was leaving in a week (a comment I took to be a green light for some low-commitment hanky-panky) and I proceeded to woo her a little more assertively.

Banjo informed me that we were switching up bars and in true wing-girl form, made sure that the lady and I had a cab all to ourselves. Everything seemed to be going well, until she asked what I was doing this summer and I told her that I was working for a medical malpractice attorney. Whoops. Apparently Doctors-to-be don't look to kindly upon those paid to sue them . She immediately got defensive and was far less flirtatious for the rest of the night. I swear, I can't win for loosing.

In other news, I have a few other topics I want to discuss. A few weeks ago I attended a friends party where I met a nice girl. Let's call her Princess Persistence. Now, PP was cutie for sure and we exchanged numbers with the knowledge that we would clearly see each other in the future. After a week of texting, we ran into each other at a bar. I thought that we were finally going to have some 1 on 1 time to catch up, but apparently, she felt the need to make herself readily available to every other dude in the bar. When I asked her friend what the deal was, to figure out why I was getting relegated to the bullpen, she told me that PP wanted me to "Wow her". Wow her?! WTF! I have a freaking job. There's your wow.

Why does every girl expect to be swept off her feet with some ridiculous romantic gesture? In real life, people don't run through security at airports to stop women from getting on flights. Because if they did, they would get shot by an air marshal. We met. We had fun. We met again, and now, because I didn't show up to the bar blasting "In Your Eyes" by Phil Collins, I'm not trying hard enough. Puh-Leeze.

A friend of my says we're in a "Man-cession" right now. I don't agree, but even if we were, girls need to lock it up and stop expecting dudes to jump over the grand canyon to impress them. Frankly, I'd be impressed by a girl who's happy I actually called her when she gave me her number.

As a follow up to PP, she saw Nee out the other day and told her that because, I haven't called her since that incident, I must not be interested in her anymore. Apparently she said this with a bid of sadness. Here's the moral ladies: I'm not telling you to settle, but when a normal guy acts decently towards you, maybe you need to go with it instead of waiting for him to turn into prince charming.

No big deal though. There is no bitterness in my heart, and if I saw PP out, I'd give it another shot, but if I get told to cure cancer to impress her again, then she is going to die of Melanoma.

More to come this week.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Sometimes you are the meat in the sandwich

Mid summer is upon us my fellow romantics, and it's time to let the cool summer evenings wash over and bathe us. I feel that good old-fashioned adolescent anticipation that comes from seeing an exposed shoulder and a breeze up a skirt. God I love you on the train in the halter dress.

Today's topic is derived from a situation in which I currently find myself. A friend of mine, the ultimate female wingman, Banjo, has invited me to visit her in NYC. As a slight enticement to encourage my visit, Banjo mentioned that one of her friends that I met back in college was going to be coming out with us. Apparently, she has recently asked about me and wanted to know my situation because she thought I was the bee's knees. Hmmm. Now I'm not saying anything is anything, but what does one call this situation and how would one handle it? It's not really a blind date (I have met her before, apparently). But it's not really a booty call (I didn't get called). So what the balls is going on?

It's a brokered, away-game, pseudo date, hook-up opportunity. J-lo described it as a "hope n' poke" but I don't think that really represents the mindset going into the situation. It's kind of like a non binding arranged marriage for a night... or maybe even like a trying on a pair of shoes; you can wear them in the store as long as you want, but you don't have to buy them unless you take them outside and get them dirty. It's just like Banjo said, "Yo, I found some kicks you would like. Come give 'em a spin in my apartment". I don't know. It's a weird situation and that's the point of bringing it up here.

More important than what it's called, is what it actually entails. I'm not trying to be Johnny Bigtime but this girl did specifically ask about me after a couple chance meetings 4 years ago! I mean, if that's not reason to go into the situation with some confidence, then I'm more dense than a pro hockey player in a post game interview:

But as good of a situation this may seem its also a little weird. I barely remember the girls I just had drinks with 45 minutes ago. How does this woman have any idea who I am?! Fatal attraction much? What if I get up to her apartment and she has pictures of me, or blood samples, or hair dolls? Don't get me wrong, right now I'm not going to keep the bat on my shoulder if some girl is pitching a softball, but if the ball is going to explode when I hit it then I'm not going to face that pitcher.

Fortunately for you guys my moral compass is shot and I am toeing the line between single and really single. Next weekend, the line may cease to exist. If I wind up in a tub of ice with no kidney, at least I'll know where the culprit lives.

Look for a post later this week. There are some complicated new developments that may require some tact in their composition. Apparently the six of you that read Sing & Mar may have been joined by another handful and I want to make sure I can protect the innocent. But much more is is store. Have a great Monday and let me leave you with a quotation from the movie Public Enemies in which John Dillinger (Johhny Depp) if wooing his new girlfriend who wants to know more about him. Dillinger replies: "I like baseball, movies, good clothes, fast cars... and you. What else you need to know?" Boom, roasted.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Damned if you do...

Thursday night in the city. Clearly it was raining because it has been raining for the last 2 weeks and will continue raining indefinitely. I called up Tandy Gold to grab a drink. TG was single for the week because his misses was away on business. i was happy because he tends to be a better wingman when he is in his faux-single status.

We headed downtown to a little spot called Alfa, a bar trying to be more trendy than it should, with patrons trying a little harder than they should. There were only a few people in the bar and to the left of me was a decent looking, slightly older woman who seemed to be dining alone but waiting for company to join her. (This is the point where I must qualify this post by saying I was kind of drunk during this whole event but, on my honor, this is what actually happened.) TG and I proceeded to get after it, drinking some delicious scotch and eventually doing a bartender-lead scotch tasting. After a guest appearance from two of our friends, the woman next to me rose to leave. I turned to her, smiled my devious little smirk and told her "Have a great night". She turned, focused, and fired back: "Who do you think you are", visibly irritated with my cavalier additude and nonchalant delivery. "I've been sitting here all night, by myself and you didn't turn and talk to me once. What's your problem?" Wow, I say to myself. I was actually a little flustered. But quick to compose myself, I went on the offensive: "You had three different guys come up to you tonight. They all looked like they could have been boyfriends or dates at least. Why should I try to pluck you away from your harem of men?"

Now it was getting more interesting. Getting more exasperated, she dug into me, saying that they were all just her "friends" and that I should have recognized that. apparently, I was an asshole for not shamelessly hitting on a woman at a bar. Yeah, I got chewed out for not bothering a pretty girl at a bar. WTF.

I'm drunk with my buddy, trying to have a good time, and this girl is going to yell at me for not trying to sleep with her. Really!? I don't even have a moral for that story, I just had to share.

In other news, I gave a shout to my friends that are getting married last post, but now I'm going to be in one of the weddings! There will clearly be some upcoming posts about wedding prep, etiquette, and strategy. Real life isn't Wedding Crashers...or is it?

Also, while I'm on random tangents, I have a public service announcement for the ladies out their. Those "gladiator" sandals may have looked OK in Gladiator but you are not Maximus and this is not the bronze age. They look terrible on the whole lot of you. They are not flattering and they make your legs/feet look like pot roast wrapped with twine.

I got more for you fools this week too. Here's a preview:
1. Girls with Boyfriends....
2. Interns
3. Commuter transit

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Catch 22

Recently on a trip to NYC for my Little Bro's graduation, I had the opportunity to catch up with two of my favorite ladies from the good old days at Uni. After a very mediocre dinner (who eats traditional English food?), we head to the nearest bar and the conversation turned to relationships, as it often does. These two ladies are beautiful, motivated, and gainfully employed and they don't have any issue meeting men, but the men they meet never call them back or follow up at all after a date or a liaison. I offered that maybe they were misreading signals but they responded that these guys were staying the night...and then staying to make breakfast the next morning and sticking around all day in an impromptu epic date. I have to say, I'm pretty stumped. I think girls do this too, but last time I checked if you just aren't into a person, or if its just a fleeting one night stand, you don't stick around to make breakfast. Hell you don't even leave a number. This is all kinds of stupid and confusing as balls. My one friend even hooked up with a guy and deliberately left without leaving her number so as not to make it awkward. He took the initiative to Facebook her the next day, but then when she sent him a message, he never responded. WTF.

Riddle me this: What's up with everyone being too cool for school? When did real life become like that scene in Swingers when Vice Vaughn tells his buddy to wait 3 days before calling a girl whose number he just got. If some girl waited 3 days to call me, I would have no idea who she was and that's just the god's honest truth.

No one is that coy. I need everyone to take a deep breath and repeat after me: "I am not Miles Davis. I am not Steve McQueen. I am not that cool." I know cuz you all got some colorful Wayfayer glasses and some ironically situated mustache, you think you're kinda like a big deal, but news flash, Walter Cronkite, your not.

In other relationship news there was a great article in this month's issue of Esquire magazine talking about the death of the promiscuous woman. It got me to thinking, isn't this article kind of right on. I mean, don't get me wrong, read the article and then try to tell me that it doesn't seem a little bit like all of the good women have forsaken sex for other worldly pursuits. I think that the claim is attached to a very specific group of high achieving, intelligent, empowered women but the last time I checked, they all need to get laid from time to time too.

I guess my point is that there is a Catch-22 situation where the good ones keep getting dissed so they stop trying to find organic sexin' and just buy better mechanical alternatives. That being said, ladies need to lighten up a bit. I know it can be frustrating but dealing with you is often more difficult that a trying to teach a color-blind child to solve a Rubik's cube.

On a final note, if you are ever worried for a second if there is still beauty in the world, walk around Bryant Park in NYC for 5 minutes on a warm day and your confidence in the human form will be restored.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

A time for a girlfriend

Over the course of the last few weeks a handful of people near and dear to me have decided to take the next step in their relationships by getting engaged (Jo-Jima!!!!). Other friends have been putting the finishing touches on their wedding plans (Pouch, Vrat). This is fantastic news and even the cynic in me wishes nothing but the best to all of these people in my life. In fact, I have been so moved by the recent influx of romanticism that I was inspired to evaluate some of my own relationship goals.

It's always been a little difficult for me to codify the exactly what I was looking for in a significant other, but after a few days of pondering, I think I figured out a part of the equation. The key isn't to find Noemie Lenoir and profess my love. The real deal breaker isn't who the person is so much as it is when the person is around. Allow me to explain. If you break up the week into times that your really need/want to have the company of a significant other, one could make the case there are a select few times when you actually need that person around.

I want a girlfriend from 11:15 AM-5:00 PM Sundays. Post sleeping in or church, but pre-Sunday night real-life refocus time. Sunday afternoon is the time when people are most likely to do couple stuff. This is brunch time, movie time, hand holding, crossword doing, coffee drinking, and canoodling time. I am dead serious. I know there are other times to the week when it may be nice to have a girlfriend or boyfriend. For instance, try watching Vicky Christina Barcelona and going to bed alone on a Tuesday without being a little unfulfilled. I did it last week...downer.

The bottom line is if you really think it over, you only want a gf/bf on Sunday afternoons. The middle of the week is too packed with real world issues to be coming home to argue over who's show gets watched on Thursday night (30 should win out).

Friday and Saturday are your real-deal relax and chill time. You can get your personal life business done, go out with your friends to have a good time, and not have to worry about texting wifey to tell her you're not exactly going to be coming home that night. You don't really need a gf/bf until Sunday comes a knockin'. That Sunday-Funday period of time is prime time for being booed-up. All of the relationship benefits, none of the relationship grievances.


Now, how does one go about finding a girlfriend committed to 6 hours a week on a Sunday? When I sort that out, I will really be onto something special, but first things first. I need to find Ms. Lenoir and pitch her my idea.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

That's not your jacket?

So it's been a long time but a new post must rise again like the sun in the east. There is much to tell and to discuss but there is also much time in which to do it, so let's take our time and properly reacquainted.

Today's hypothetical has to do with the residuals of romance. What does one do with leftover, unclaimed belongings and articles of clothing? The obvious answer would be to return those things to their proper owners so all parties can go back to being as happy as a 30-year-old maid of honor meeting the groom's single brother.

The problem comes in when one has no idea what belongs to whom. Uh-oh. Who's shirt is this? Where did these earrings come from? I don't recall playing rugby at Florida State and I certainly don't have a dog.

Do you find yourself asking these questions? Here's a novel solution. Stop playing away games and take your special friends back to your place. Or, if you live in a house with no furniture, get creative with it and erect a lost and found. A general lost and found is a great way to avoid being the person who chucks peoples clothing in the trash (we're in a recession), to not be the person who gets called out for having the semi-conspicuous balled up pink scarf in the corner, and to not be the person who tries to return something to the wrong party.

I tried to give earrings back once, they weren't hers...pause...yeah...Well it was ok that time, but the bottom line is it could have been far worse. The key to the lost and found is to not include anything that implies sexual encounter or that shows that only certain type of people leave stuff at your house. Keep the clear heels and shinny Versace clutches to a minimum (ahem, J-Lo). Keep at least 1 gender neutral item in there so you don't look like a total skee-hoe.

Most importantly, do not bring the Lost and found out in the open unless someone asks specifically for something they lost. No one wants to explain why most of Victoria's secrets are sitting in a Whole foods bag in your closet.

Keep a clear head and clean house and there won't be any questions posed because you would have been exposed on Room-Raiders. Clean it up.

FYI: April 5: Opening day for the World F-Ing Champion Phillies
April 25: Opening day for skirts.

Monday, January 5, 2009


Happy Holidays. A new year is upon us and guess who’s observed a new dating conundrum? Rather than making a convoluted lead in to the situation, I think I may just lay the issue out there and then follow up with a convoluted explanation: If it worth dating a person you need in your everyday life? I’m talking about the mailman, your doctor, the T.A. who still has control over your grade, or the omnipotent coffee barista. There are so many people like this in our lives that it’s difficult to really account for all of them, but the common paradox is although you may have a professional, perhaps even a friendly rapport with these people, a disastrous dating situation can not only lead to an awkward falling out, but also to an abrupt end in service.

For example, I recently went on a lovely date with the barista at my favorite local coffee shop. I take my coffee way more seriously than most and the bottom line is that, the coffee house is a home away from home, an office, community center, and refuge. The key idea is that the venue for coffee consumption is as important as the bevy itself, and now, I run the risk of potentially ruining my spot because I decided that I would rather have Cafenista froth my milk in a more intimate setting.

As for the date, I wanted to make sure she was removed from her element to put us on neutral social footing, but also to do something creative and silly: Enter ice skating on the riverfront. Middle school style, absolutely. But there it was a great time and we followed it up with a tasty glass or three of hot (very alcoholic) cider. All in, a good date.

As per usual, now the complications come in. What if I manage to piss her off. Does this mean the end of my coffee home? Will I be shunned from my de facto office? There aren’t enough good spots in my ‘hood to risk loosing my cafĂ© home.

The issue is clear. Should one gamble with romance when the fallout could have a wider ripple effect? The answer is jut as clear: Go for it as long as the service isn’t one of a kind. No monopoly suitors. No mailmen, no teachers (while in their class), nobody currently working on a project for you. Yes to everyone who is replaceable. The bottom line is, if it takes more effort than a trip to the Yellow Pages to solve your problem, then you’d best be moving on. No one wants to spend a year without getting any mail or doing a semester’s worth of extra special extra-credit in the professor's’ office.

As for Cafenista, I’ll keep you posted. In the mean time, happy hunting in 2K9.