Sunday, July 18, 2010

Dating Man Hattan Part II; D is for Douch?!



THE BOX (WWW.THEBOXNYC.COM)

We walked from Rockwood Music Hall on Allen St. (rockwoodmusichall.com‎) to The Box on Chrystie St. (www.theboxnyc.com). I know, I know, I skipped a few details…rewind…for the blog’s sake, we’ll refer to my Thursday night crush (a passionate fixation on a particular attractive individual of the same or opposite sex) who’s name will be Neil.

(11PM- Leaving Apotheke)...since it was a Thursday night and we all had REALLY important things to do the following morning, we collectively decided to call it a night as early as 11pm. Since I (literally) stumbled upon Rockwood Music Hall the week before after leaving my bff's 29th birthday party @ Thompson Hotel Allen St. She's one of those hot mama's I recently mentioned in my SWF vs. MILFS we discussed in my earlier blogs...I decided to check out who was jamming on the piano and perhaps hear some good tunes before I retired to my Avenue A adorable studio apartment.

“Lele, you wanna come? John Mayer’s predecessor will sing us a lullaby!” I asked my family friend, “yaeli what world do you live in??…I need to wake up for the gym tomorrow…I have a charity in two weeks and going to Tel Aviv in a few weeks…ladies must maintain”…Lele smirked and I gave her a nasty look of envy for being the more responsible one and for having a better body…but whatever...I’m a romantic and my mixed potion from Apotheke was telling me I needed to go to Rockwood!
Neil chimed in…”You’re going out? I wanna go out! Let’s go!”
I smile & say OK!

(11:38pm-Arrive to Rockwood Music Hall)
We arrived @ the little music joint serving fancy wine and international beer on tap, I squeeze my way through the crowd to the lady’s room, leaving Neil @ the bar…

When I made my way back to the bar where Neil was patiently waiting with a glass of…”You said you liked spicy red wine, so that’s what I ordered you…is that ok?” I wanted to die! What 30-something (barely 30 in fact) American BOY would ever be that attentive? NONE! Precisely my point!

I really tried to pretend I wasn’t even slightly interested... I swear, there were conversations that night with no verbal dialogue...i KNOW it wasn’t bull sh—t…or maybe I was just hoping it wouldn’t be.

(12:55pm-Why did I ever say yes to get us into The Box?!)
“Isn’t the box around here?” Neil…
“yes, it’s right up the street, on the next block, why?” I asked (as if I didn’t know what was coming next).
“well…do you think we should go? Do you know anyone that could get us in no hassle?”
(OBVIOUSLY!!! DOES HE KNOW WHO HE’S DEALING WITH???) “umm?? Sure! My girlfriend runs the parties and manages the shows…I go whenever I want since it’s in my hood,” (oh my GD! Did I just say that out loud??!! What is wrong with me??!!! Who am i??!!)
“Let’s go Yaeli...”
….and we’re off….

Right…he said that they BROKE up. I don’t know if I really cared at the moment, I can’t even tell if I was truly listening to his reason…SINGLE! HE’S SINGLE!!!! That’s all I heard 

We roll up to the Box at little before 1am. I approached the super attractive eastern European doorman with his skullcap and military jacket. He smiled at me…I flirt back...before I had a chance to spit another word out; I heard a voice coming up from behind me “OMG!! YAEL??” (hug, hug, kiss, kiss) “Gance, they’re with me!”
Neil and I cut the line and strolled in to the dark Moulin Rough(esque) old brownstone where, “ANYTHING GOES” on our imaginary red carpet with my girl D, who runs the joint. (I felt cool)

Super cool.

She was on her night off and was kick’n it bar side instead. Neil bought the four of us a round of drinks.

D stares me down and complements my “oh so Chanel attire Yael! Only you!” (I felt super super cool). Who knew you could pull off a Burkin bag, vintage channel jumbo pearls, and shoulder pads in a chiffon camisole with cigarette pants and ballet flats @ the Box??!! Last time I was here I was in gold Nike air force ones, wayfarers and short denim shorts! The only thing missing was my tattoo (I’m too scared to get one but really want one)…back on track.

I wanted to show off a lil’bit more and told Neil (who’s never been there before) I would give him a tour of the Box before the sex shows would start in 30 minutes.
I took him upstairs where there was a more intimate setting with a smaller bar and love seats lined up all along the edges of the 2nd floor overlooking the stage and the first floor. Glasses were klinking, girls were giggling, boys were flirting, and the champagne kept on pouring.

(1:23am-The point of no return)
D hooked us up with a small table overlooking the stage.

Neil sat next to me and asked me why I was so tough, why I wouldn't accept anything from him. I didn’t know what to answer him. He asked me about my past relationships and we spoke about what it’s like dating in New York.

I mean, seriously, it’s not a trick question and my answers were straight forward…I truly believe it’s (love/romance/life) black or white. We (human beings) mess it all up by making life one big grey area (too lazy, not enough love, can’t commit, etc)…you’re either into it or you’re not. Simple! Some people can’t deal with rejection, which is why they make excuses…grey…but to me, it’s black or white.
Neil and I got into this a little deeper.

He looked at me like I was crazy…hiding behind my chrome hearts oversized seeing eye glasses that basically engulf half my face…shouting over the music at him, telling him my outlook of life and all…
My cheeks were red and warm from all the wine and my stomach was nice and toasty (one martini w/magic sauce @ Apotheke, one glass of red @ Rockwood & now I’m nursing my 3rd drink).

…From our table to the dance floor to the sex show on stage, and back to our little love seat, we must have done SOMETHING right, because when I got back from the lady’s room to fix my hair and touch up my makeup, I realized I wasn’t wearing my glasses!!! WHAT????!!!! When did that happen?

We searched for them in our booth but we quickly managed to forget about my glasses all together when the master of serimony appeared on stage with her fishnet thigh highs, garter belt, high heeled boots (probably Giussepi if you’d ask me), cristal Madonna like Brah or more like Heidi’s at the Victoria Secret fashion show…side tracked all together…glasses were now an afterthought...

Neil and I decided to call it a night somewhere between 2 and 3. I can’t remember exactly (I know I was in bed sleeping by 3:30ish)…we approached my building and the most unexpected thing happened…”Can I come upstairs?” Neil, asked me…

I couldn’t believe the uber sophisticated French Moroccan from Switzerland who speaks Sapanish as well for reasons I can’t remember even dared to ask me that question!

I WAS INSULTED...

Let me get one thing straight here. THIS WAS NOT A DATE! Had this been a first date, I would have called it a night after ONE glass of wine and the conclusion of dinner.
This was a random, spontaneous fun night out with a handsome individual that turned out to NOT have a girlfriend (or so I thought).

We have mutual friends and have hung out prior to that evening. From our conversations of supply & demand, and politics, and economics, and work and love and family and life in general…I really didn’t think Neil was going to be like the rest of them…


I told him not to be tacky even though he had asked if he could see my place, “I know they didn’t teach you that in boarding school Neil…”

He watched me as I disappeared into the elevator bank and I floated the rest of the way into my studio apartment on avenue A.

I woke up the next morning and realized he never took my number.
I found out from Lele’s friends that he was NOT in fact single
His girlfriend lives in Spain and her name is….

YAEL!!
(what?)

true story

To be continued….

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