Kick’n it Café Mogador (Thank you Neil)

“Yaeli! I am on my way and should be there in 15 minutes. My friend Pablo (from LA) and Neil (Douche bag from the other night) are already sitting at the bar waiting for our table!” (Voicemail Benn left on my phone @ 8:42pm Friday May 28th).

Neil???? Did Benn just say Neil’s coming to OUR dinner? It was supposed to be just me and Benn (the French Moroccan from Barcelona who moved here from LA a few months ago).

Benn’s thick French accent resonated in my head as I rolled my yoga mat into my bag. I was running late as it was to our Friday night dinner plans at Café Mogador on St. Marks (between 1st Ave and Ave A). Having both grown up in traditional Jewish homes, Benn and I decided a few days earlier that we’d have Friday night dinner together since our families are far away with mine in Miami and his in Montreal and Casablanca.

Benn and I have been doing a ton of Bikram together. We get together for a few hours a week to sweat together (HOT), practice yoga together, and basically talk about everything EXCEPT for dating! I like Benn. I try and flirt with him but he just won’t have it…

Side note: After that evening at the Box, I completely put Neil off the radar, and now he was coming to MY dinner plans with Benn & friends (I could kill someone). I was looking forward to seeing Benn and meeting his friend Pablo from Barcelona who now lives in LA. I don’t think I was ready to see Neil. I don’t know why? I mean the man screams testosterone from miles away! But then again…he’s a dirt bag right?

8:57pm (Leaving Bikram Yoga LES on Allen & Stanton and heading to Café Mogador on St Marks)
I struggled not to sweat too much on my walk up from Allen Street to St. Marks. Though you check out of the yoga studio, your body still thinks it’s in camel pose and refuses to stop sweating profusely (or at least mine does)! My leggings were sticking to me in all the wrong places, my hair was soaking wet and dripping down the back of my neck and into my tank top, my palms were sweaty and my heart was racing. I was hot and cold and excited and frustrated all at the same time (OY)!.
I turned the corner onto St Marks, and approached the restaurant. Outside was a crowd of trendy, international locals (oxymoron of the week). I scanned the outside for Benn but he hadn’t gotten there yet (damn it!!). My body temperature was finally coming back down to normal and I quickly put on my James Perese Henley. I was about to sit down on the bench outside and wait for Benn to show up until…”Yael! Ciao! GOOD TO SEE YOU!!!!”

I looked up at the tall handsome man and the oversized Polo player on the left side of his navy shirt. His hair was slicked back and his jeans were nice and fitted. He gave me a hug and planted a kiss on each of my rosy cheeks. He smelled good. Clean. Man.
We exchanged several words. I played it cool. Didn’t have much to say anyway. I wanted to hate him for being a Douche the other night, but I don’t think I really cared enough. I pretended to listen as he told me about how he’d been over the past few days…I cut him off, “Let’s go inside and Benn’s arrived with his friend Pablo!”

10:22pm Café Mogador to Rockwood Music Hall
Benn arrived just in time for everyone to reacquaint themselves with one other. Benn’s friend Pablo is an ADRABLE Barcelonan (made that word up) with a thick Spanish accent. He is visiting NYC for 15 days, some work, some play. We were seated next to each other and flirted the entire time (how fun)! The common denominator at the table was Benn. To the right of me, the gentlemen were speaking Spanish. At one point I think I attempted to communicate in French but nothing came out but Italian words like, “where is the bathroom,” or “where is the duomo?” I was being my usual self and cracking jokes and sneaking in some snarly comments about what I think of men who lie about their dating status… and do what I do best, laugh at myself while I’m at it!

I must say how pleased I was when the bill came…the men do what they do best and covered the bill ;-)

Shoot me for saying that but in all honesty, chivalry is NOT dead and I L-O-V-E it!!!

We all knew we weren’t ready to go home so Benn suggested I take the lead and pick our next venue. In the interest of staying local (and not schlepping my yoga mat and bag cross-town), I suggested we go hear some live music at Rockwood (www.rockwoodmusichall.com).

11:00pm Rockwood Music Hall & a whole lot’a Neil!
I can’t remember exactly when it was in the evening, but at some point, Neil decided it was TIME. He decided “now is the perfect time I’m going to confess what's on my mind!” As Pablo and Benn were at the bar waiting for us, I kept thinking to myself how awful this may look since all my credibility to Benn & his friends was out the window (thank you Neil for f*@&cking it up)… Neil leaned in closer to make sure I could hear him over the music, and told me how he couldn’t stop thinking about me and had meaning to call me all week (bull$hit,bull$hit). How when we first met, that night out on the town how much fun we had and how ‘on the same page’ we were and how we had this raw connection he didn’t want to lose…hmmmm…that’s interesting…yet another man validating that I’m not in fact crazy and to even dare to think that we shared anything special made me feel slightly less delusional.

I let Neil speak his drunk mind...I gave him the floor till he felt he had nothing left to say. I didn’t look him in the eye because every time I did I believed every word of bull$hit that came out of his mouth. Instead, I looked at the heavyset saxophone player on stage while Neil confessed his love for me (YEAH RIGHT)!!!

Neil finished telling me all these amazing things I deeply wish were true…he always had an extra word to put in…I simply had nothing to say. I wanted to forget about him (as I did the week leading up to Mogador) and so I stayed strong and smiled and gave him a kiss on his cheek and said, “Cherie…we’re all good…no worries!”

Before Neil could say another word, I needed to save face with Benn at the bar. I felt a little uncomfortable since the elephant in the room was the fact that Neil’s found his pray (me), Benn knows about it and I want to have nothing to do with it (except I can’t help but fantasize about the big’old WHAT IF?)

Benn and I locked eyes as he handed me an Amstel Light OMG I love him…
He gave me that look of “ummm you cool?”
I really didn’t know what to do or say, it wasn’t even a big deal until I turned to face the stage. The performer on stage was a Nathalie Portman type; petite brunette with understated beauty. She had the voice of Aretha Franklin and Billy Holiday. She swayed her hips from side to side and caressed the microphone like it was the face of her own child. She was sexy. Watching her made me sway my hips from side to side…I took a sip of my beer, closed my eyes, and moved to her music…(enter Neil)…

My eyes were closed, my had thrown back…the music was loud but soothing…moving my body and swaying my hips to the music...
My eyes were closed and I let myself go to a place where everything is perfect. I was in a movie…a love story actually. Neil wasn’t full of $hit and him and Benn planned the whole thing weeks ago…it was perfect!

I opened my eyes and turned around to look at Neil…I wanted to push him and say “don’t F*@&#CK with me dude,” but instead I looked over his shoulder and noticed Benn and the crew were gone…
I texted Benn asking him where they were. My phone buzzed a moment later…
“Yaeli, I am home! Enjoy…see you tomorrow”
I didn’t understand why they would have left.

Neil and I exchanged some words on our walk home. I would be lying if I said he didn’t try (again)…but homeboy’s got to step up and show me what a man he really is.
He suggested we go out to dinner on Monday.

“I know you are going away tomorrow to the country with Benn, but when you get back, I would love to take you to dinner…”

I said yes…
We were supposed to go to my all time favorite sushi joint below 14th, Tomo Sushi on Thompson St. between Houston and Bleeker.

Benn and I made arrangements to leave our country holiday earlier so I could make it back in time for our dinner.

May 31 2:38pm
He cancelled…

Despite my cancelled date last night...Benn and I had the BEST weekend in the country together...stay tuned for my next post "Kick'n it in the Country w/Benn"

Dating Man hattan...Part I (What you see is not always what you get)

I know I promised to track my Bikram studio experience, but I’m going to have to follow up with you guys on that one since I’ve had the most outrageous, spontaneous, non-zen, non-yoga, toxin filled last few day. Let me assure you, by no means do I take back or regret my missed days in the sweaty studio (well? Maybe just a little bit) but I must share with you the craziness of being single in this fantastic city and all the $hit that comes along with it.

Last Thursday night, what was supposed to be a mellow evening of dinner and cocktails in SOHO, turned out to be a 3am night ending at The Box. It started off when I bailed on my long overdue manicure appointment and instead met up with a family friend for some champagne and Tuna Tartar @ Delicatessen (http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/delicatassen/). While discussing our weeks and sharing our days, we simultaneously receive a text that read, “I’m at Apotheke, are you ladies going to join us?” (www.apothekebar.com).

6 degree connection (literally)...My friend’s sister’s husband’s friend from Morocco who moved to LA after years in Barcelona and finally made his way to the big city (thank GD), was having drinks with his team and extended an invite. While talking about relevant things, and contemplating whether we should go or not considering it was a Thursday night and it was a beautiful night and it was only 9pm and…hmmm…well? I felt bad as it was that I missed Bikram that night and I knew that if I was to go downtown and meet up with more friends who love to date NYC as much as I do, there would be no way in hell that I would hit the mat the next morning!

“OK! See you soon…we’re on our way” (txt sent from my phone @ 9:27pm)
“C'est parfait! Take Mott all the way down, make a right walk one block make another right” (txt sent from friend’s phone @ 9:32)

Apotheke [ah-poh-tek], (which literally means a pharmacy or drugstore, a place for the art, practice, or profession of preparing, preserving, compounding, and dispensing medical herbs, elixirs and potions), is the site of what once was home to an opium den, and later a Chinese opera house, before hosting a number of different chop suey restaurants (http://www.apothekebar.com/index2abar.html).

After walking in circles for 10 minutes (literally), we finally found the speakeasy tucked away on a small street in Chinatown, 9 Doyer St. to be exact. If I wasn’t a total idiot trusting the French Moroccan who had just moved to New York, I would have just Google mapped it and realized it’s basically one of the last small streets off the Bowery at its end…we made it (to what I thought was my final destination of the evening).

The scene? An after work downtown hipster crowd 20-something pretending to be 30-something and 30-something pretending to be 20-something, cozied up in corners on vintage leather couches.

The Statge? An old chemistry lab turned super cool hang out (I could find better words here but I need to get on with this blog). I watched the model/actor dressed in a white doctor coat mix up my cocktail with such vigor, and top it off with a mint leaf and some clear liquid drops of (I don’t know what). Our international crowd flirted in many languages; the French Moroccan from LA/Barcelona, and his coworker from Slovakia, another handsome cousin of a friend who’s also French Moroccan yet born in Switzerland but also speaks Spanish for some reason I later learned why (but can’t remember)… I leaned over to my girlfriend and whispered to her in Hebrew that I thought he was kinda cute but could have sworn I was told he had a girlfriend from the other friend’s husband who went to high school with the same French Moroccan from LA/Barcelona...OK who could keep track?!?!

What felt like a teenage hormonal filled social triangle on steroids, was merely 30-something available (& not available) New Yorkers nursing their love potion mixed by the too hot for his own good model behind the bar in the white coat while discussing politics, dating, economics, and food.

At one point in the evening the French Moroccan Swiss Jew that spoke my language in every way challenged me, “oh really? Then what is the formula to elasticity of supply & demand?” ($hit!!) My MBA was put to the test and I needed to prove this handsome (sort of but not really & who really knows if he’s single) Meatpacking residing, 5 o’clock shadow shaven, Swiss business man…where was I? Ahh, yes, I needed to prove this man wrong...and before I had a chance to tell him exactly what I knew, he beat me to it…he raised his potent, mystery drink, takes a sip, licks his lips and through a conceited little smirk says, “the change in supply divided by the change in demand...darling”

The conversation continued into a sequence of “what are we doing here? How did we get here? Palestinians or Israeli’s? Republican or Democrat? Diamonds vs. Pearls, flying private vs. flying commercial (as if), Bonds, and Stocks, and, and, finally, the million dollar question…Why are you single and what are you looking for?

I felt like a carrier monkey that needed to be locked up before spreading a terminal disease! The single folk vs. the committed folk. “I just haven’t really found what I’m looking for I guess,” I needed to confirm the unknown, “Well, since you seem to have your PhD in everything professor and have it all figured out and happily committed, why don’t you give me some advise…enlighten me,” I sipped my mystery drink hoping the magic potion inside would take hold.
(to be continued)…be back in a few…

I guess it happens to the best of us!

I know what you must be thinking, but I can assure you that I’m NOT crazy.
Granted my resume can use some work in the dating dept. The last time I tought I was actually in LOVE was when I was 21, he broke my heart after a short 6 months of BLISS & had the nerve to get engaged a year later to someone else. With no true romantic promise on the horizon in my early 20’s and countless failed JDate attempts, Hamptons summer flings or the glamerous Sundance winter break romances were definitely the trend for most of us in our mid 20's. (well my social network at least).


Don't get me wrong here...I’m not scared of never finding Mr.Right...we all know it will happen at some point one way or the other. But, sometimes this big city gets a tad bit lonely after leaving the trading desk, and the Bikram yoga studio.

From after work dinner and drinks at Abe & Arthur’s (http://www.abeandarthursrestaurant.com/), and happy hour at the Standard Boom Boom Room (http://www.standardhotels.com/new-york-city), to countless nights at Apotheke (http://www.apothekebar.com/), and The Box (http://www.theboxnyc.com/html_site/index_noflash.html), my more recent encounters with the opposite sex have been anything but lame…in fact, they’ve been AWESOME! I really couldn’t find a better word to use here, because AWESOME really sums up my dating experiences (especially since I’ve moved into the East Village a year ago).
The major difference now (than when I was in my early and mid 20’s) is that the Hamptons flings and New Years kisses truly mean nothing. They’re just played out (to me). In a world of party and Sex Drugs and Rock’n’Roll, where does one find the ‘good guy,’ that’s looking to get serious?

Is being introduced to someone from a reliable source the only way??
I mean, I’ve been there and done that too…but no interest on their end. When you play the game right (or at least you think you play the game right) and you still fail, where does that leave you?

The end result is growing old with someone…making memories with them and creating your reality with them…however most people spend their entire youth looking for Mr. Right thinking the ultimate goal is the wedding (that’s only the beginning)!!!
Don’t get me wrong. I love dating…I love the newness of meeting someone new and exciting. I love the feeling of unfolding with a new person (both friends and lovers)…seriously though…I just love ‘LOVE’

And we all know we’re out there…and we’ll all meet before you know it (AMEN)!