Dating Blogger Amy: Entry 1
Amy Odell is Jewcy's editorial assistant and office manager. Her first entry was originally published in the magazine's beta phase, and all future entries will appear on Tuesdays. But in the interest of debut magnanimity, here it is again. Enjoy! … Read More
Amy Odell is Jewcy's editorial assistant and office manager. Her first entry was originally published in the magazine's beta phase, and all future entries will appear on Tuesdays. But in the interest of debut magnanimity, here it is again. Enjoy!
I’m 21 years old, and I’ve had three back-to-back long-term relationships: a 15-month, a two-year, and a two-and-a-half year. I met my most recent ex at NYU, from where I graduated in May. We lived in the same freshman dorm and began a relationship six weeks into the semester. I had just turned 20 when we got an apartment with two other students my senior year in school. A week before my graduation, I was forced to break up with him. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. I realized how terribly unhappy I was in that relationship and entered singledom for essentially the first time in my life. It was the first time in two-and-a-half years I felt happy and it was the first time in two-and-a-half years I felt free: No one to answer to when I went out at night and came home at 10 o’clock the next morning; no one to constantly make me feel guilty for drinking, etc. I am WAY too young for something that serious. So I took full advantage of my new freedom this summer. Seldom would I go out at night and not come home until after the sun was well-above the horizon. I went (and still go, I suppose) to 27th Street WAY too much. And started meeting and dating lots of crazy/weird guys. On the New York City nightclub circuit, I’ve found there are 4 main species of men: 1. Promoter: Promoter is the worst type to fall for. Promoter’s job is to fill nightclubs with bodies, especially the fair and feminine, for whom rich men will buy $12 champagne. So Promoter knows and cavorts with plenty of women. How does Promoter get them to come see him at a club? Aside from free drinks tableside, lots of flirting. So for a girl like me that has made out with and had crushes on a couple of these men, how do I know I’m special or if I’m just being seduced for business purposes and physical attraction?
2. Owner: Owner is on par with Promoter, as far as bringing women into clubs goes. But, Owner has more status and money and therefore, especially if he’s reasonably attractive, cavorts with the most beautiful women. Promoter might make $100,000 in six months. Owner might make $100,000 in one month or less.
3. Finance: Finance works in finance. Finance buys tables and bottles with other Finances for club entry. They offer girls like me gross vodka drinks when we pass by. Having accepted many of these, I’ve learned that Finance is always an insecure, miserable coke head. Finance hates his job but does it for the money. He thinks money will buy him beautiful women and happiness. He is totally wrong but doesn’t know it and, especially since he works such long, awful hours, buys and snorts too much coke.
4. DJ: True, there’s only one of these at every club. But any savvy party girl knows the DJ is perhaps the best person to know. DJ plays my song requests, puts me on the guest list if necessary, and gives me drink tickets. DJ’s booth has the best view in the house and during the winter is the best free place to check a coat. Best of all, since DJ is working, I don’t have to socialize with him or go out of my way to avoid unwanted interactions with him. These species often make girls believe they’re not as lame/awful as they really are, so a girl that goes out as often as I do will date and fall for these species occasionally. Their worst common flaw: They prefer to ask girls to parties rather than on real dates. DJ is the exception, because he won’t get to spend much time at all with me unless I go on a date with him, as he has to work at parties/clubs. Now, I know the Club Species are not normal, and I know I won’t meet my husband in a nightclub. But I don’t want a husband, or a relationship, for a very long time and the Club Species can be highly entertaining. Nonetheless, I’d still like to date normal, nice guys. I just don’t know where to find them. However, the first date I went on after I broke up with Ex was with a normal, nice guy. STN is a 23-year-old fellow journalist, who I met at a concert I was covering while I was still with my boyfriend. I was sitting by myself wedged into a corner mezzanine seat taking furious notes (it was one of my first big assignments) and STN was sitting several seats down from me. He asked me to borrow some paper and revealed he wrote for a highly respected national magazine and graduated from Harvard. We made sparse and pleasant small talk toward the end of the concert, and I relinquished my seat to gather material elsewhere without saying goodbye. I was kneeling behind the last row of seats on the floor gathering notes when STN approached me, shook my hand, exchanged niceties, and handed me a note that read: “Would you like to have a drink sometime? Circle one: Yes No ~STN Email me email@example.com.” Yes it was an awkward note. But he was nice and cute enough at the time. I was flattered to have been asked out, and having been in relationships forever couldn’t really remember the last time it had happened. So I emailed him a couple days after my breakup. We met at a wine bar in the West Village and each had three glasses of Syrah. We dated over the summer—I saw him around three times a month or so, which was ideal because it always felt new and a little exhilerating. STN is a genuinely nice person. I liked that we shared good conversation and that he would give me good advice about my life and career at a time when I had no job lined up and was spending too many nights partying and too many days napping. But STN was a little too insecure. Once at dinner we had this conversation: STN: I thought you’d never want to see me after our first date. Me: Why? STN: Because I have so much in common with your ex-boyfriend. Me: Well, not personalities. And you have no idea how awful men are here. STN: Like who? Me: I dunno… Like, people I meet out. STN: Like out at clubs and stuff? They must be awful. Me: Well, yeah. They suck. STN: How many dates do you go on a week. Me: [pause] This is an awkward conversation and I don’t want to have it. STN: Ok. [pause] I bet they’re a lot richer than me. Everybody dates more than one person, and everybody knows you’re not supposed to talk about it. And it’s nothing to feel insecure about either. He knew about what happened with my ex, and, though I never specifically stated it, was not too clueless to know I wasn’t looking for an exclusive relationship. And clearly I didn’t really care that STN made a journalist’s salary because I had gone on plenty of dates with him by this point. But there were bigger problems than insecurities: the physical part. He’s not good in bed, although he really does try, and I don’t think he’s going to get better. Clearly, good conversation does not translate to good sex. So I find myself in an awkward position: how can I just be friends with STN? He seems to really like me and I really like him, just not in that way. He seemed to be catching on to this right before my 21st birthday, the day after which he went to India for several weeks. He even sent me an email with hostile undertones about a freelance reporting gig he though I’d be interested in: “Whats up Miss I’mbusyallthetime? A gig from X, in case your interested…” This was the first note of hostility from STN and it rather caught me off guard. I couldn’t help it if I often had plans when he asked me out. I just so happen to have a lot of plans most of the time. And so I didn’t see STN before he went to India (he goes out of town a lot, which works well for me). He’s sent me a handful of pleasant emails, referring to me as “the beautiful Amy Odell” even. He should be back any day if he’s not already. I’m still not sure that he’ll call me. If he doesn’t it’s because his insecurity got the best of him.